In common with most of those made by Warwick Films this one is nothing much to write home about and is directed by the spectacularly undistinguished John Gilling.
Victor Mature's trademark expressions that range from glum to deadpan add little to this tepid thriller about international drug smuggling whilst statuesque Swede Anita Ekberg, surely one of the most splendid specimens of womanhood ever to walk on to a sound stage, is far less effective when called upon to emote.
By far the most fascinating character and the one with all the best lines is the deranged drug peddler played by the brilliant Trevor Howard who simply saunters away with the film.
This feeble opus serves to remind us, if indeed we need reminding, that in films of this type Britain is very much the poor relation to America and France, lacking the grittiness of the former and the stylishness of the latter.
Victor Mature's trademark expressions that range from glum to deadpan add little to this tepid thriller about international drug smuggling whilst statuesque Swede Anita Ekberg, surely one of the most splendid specimens of womanhood ever to walk on to a sound stage, is far less effective when called upon to emote.
By far the most fascinating character and the one with all the best lines is the deranged drug peddler played by the brilliant Trevor Howard who simply saunters away with the film.
This feeble opus serves to remind us, if indeed we need reminding, that in films of this type Britain is very much the poor relation to America and France, lacking the grittiness of the former and the stylishness of the latter.