FOG ISLAND. PRC, 1945. George Zucco, Lionel Atwill, Jerome Cowan, Sharon Douglas, Veda Ann Borg, John Whitney, Jacqueline DeWit, Ian Keith. Screenplay by Pierre Gendron, based on the play Angel Island, by Bernadine Angus. Director: Terry O. Morse.

   Fog Island cost about a buck-ninety-five to chum out and looks it, but here is a film to sink your teeth into; a stylish, creaky Old-Dark-House thriller directed at penurious pace by someone named Terry Morse and offering a hand-picked cast of cinematic low-lifes including George Zucco, Lionel Atwill, Ian Keith, Veda Ann Borg and Jerome Cowan (best remembered as the short-lived half of the Spade-Archer partnership in The Maltese Falcon) at his slimiest.

   Before going on to rave about this thing I should add perhaps that by nomic standards, Fog Island don’t amount to much. The script makes very little sense at all, the sets — when there are any seem about to topple any moment, and the whole affair is served up with a rushed look that seems cheap-jack even by PRC’s bottom-of-the-trash-can standards.

   Watching it is like seeing a derelict car chug its clanking way down a superhighway – you can’t believe it’s actually moving right there in front of you, much less understand what keeps it going.

   For the record, Fog Island concerns itself with the efforts of recently paroled embezzler Zucco to revenge himself on his unindicted co-conspirators, and their efforts to prise out of him the money they’re sure he squirreled away.

   As the plot unspools, hints are dropped here and there that Zucco and/or some of his cronies may or may not be guilty — but these are mostly left unresolved in the haste to get this thing in the can.

   What’s left is brilliantly atmospheric and astonishingly grim as Zucco, Atwill et. al. struggle, grasp and claw at each other to see who will emerge Wealthy… or Alive, anyway. Oh. there’s a romantic sub-plot stuck in there somewhere, but Director Morse and writer Pierre Gendron (who worked on Ulmer’s masterful Bluebeard) clearly save most of their interest for the Baddies — who are all played by much more interesting actors anyway.

   The big Confrontation scene where Zucco and Atwill pull out all the dramatic stops and hammer away at each other (accent on Ham) with histrionic abandon has — no kidding — Real Chemistry — made all the more compelling by being shot practically in the dark to hide the cheap-o sets.

   With nothing to distract us, the eyes are drawn irresistibly to the spectacle of two full-blooded (to put it mildly) performers face-to-face and toe-to-toe in the thespic equivalent of a knockdown drag-out prize fight.

   After this emotional high point, Fog Island drags, lurches and stumbles a bit to a conclusion that, as I say, is surprisingly grim and well-realized for a B-Horror/Mystery Movie. The glimpse of impressive artistry someone heaped on this obscure thing while no one was looking makes me despair of facile, expensive things like The Firm and Line of Fire.

   Which is not to say that Fog Island is as entertaining as either of them; it isn’t. The only thing it has going for it is the gratuitous energy and enthusiasm of its creators. Which is enough for me.