By Paul-John Ramos
“Foreign Intrigue…An exciting television drama played against the tense background of present-day Europe.”
Such was the introduction to each episode of Foreign Intrigue, a syndicated TV series that was filmed in European cities like Stockholm, Paris, and Vienna and broadcast on United States networks from 1951 to 1955. One of the first espionage dramas to appear on the small screen, it depicted journalists who investigate crime rings and, through major suspension of disbelief, proceed to break them up. The show enjoyed sponsorship by Ballantine Ale and a wide audience that extended across borders. It became the first American series to reach homes in Canada and was also screened in European cinemas as a second feature.
Foreign Intrigue, along with work involving Sherlock Holmes, has made Philadelphia-born Sheldon Reynolds a footnote as one of the first American producers and directors to negotiate those murky seas that television sailed in during its earliest years. TV was in its embryonic stages during the early 1950s, when programs lacked the aesthetic cohesion that we nowadays take for granted and, of great importance to producers like Reynolds, the formulas for maximizing profits were still being hashed out. In an article he wrote for the July 1952 edition of Television, an industry magazine, he explains how Foreign Intrigue‘s production costs in Europe were no less than those found in New York or Los Angeles but could be offset by distribution to European theaters and the authentic foreign settings that gave added appeal. The television industry, of course, has learned to conduct its business since then, but people like Reynolds helped to get matters started.
Amidst the success of his TV series (it was nominated for three ‘best mystery’ Emmy Awards in the U.S.), Reynolds produced, wrote, and directed Foreign Intrigue‘s motion picture spinoff, which was released through United Artists in 1956. The adaptation of television shows to the silver screen was a newly emerging concept and Foreign Intrigue hence became one of the first series crossovers. Reynolds’s full-length color feature (the television show, of course, was always in black and white) marked his debut as a film director and preceded three European coproductions that he helmed during the mid-to-late 1960s, including the Western A Place Called Glory and the spy spoof Killer’s Carnival. Clearly aiming for box office profits, Reynolds was able to obtain the services of Robert Mitchum, French actress Geneviève Page, and Swedish starlet Ingrid Thulin to lead Foreign Intrigue‘s proceedings. As a director not known for working with the bigger names, this was a major coup, indeed.
Having supplied this background, it must be said that Foreign Intrigue‘s history is much more notable than anything that can be found in the film itself. Foreign Intrigue the motion picture, which relates to the TV series in spirit but does not carry over any of its original premise, is a mishmash of spy story, noir, and romantic thriller that tries to draw life from the three talented lead actors rather than sustain itself with an engaging story or competent filmmaking. The original series had those scriptwriting, acting, and technical issues that are commonly found in TV shows of its day; despite having better resources and a much better lead cast, Reynolds seemed to bring all of the show’s weaknesses into his film rather than weeding them out or, at least, reducing them.
The film’s story, to be perfectly honest, is thin. It opens on the French Riviera in what was the present day. Victor Danemore (played briefly by French actor Jean Galland), an older man who lives in his luxurious mansion, suffers a heart attack while reading and dies. He is found just before expiring by his press agent, David Bishop (Mitchum). As the post-death formalities take place, Bishop is approached by various unfamiliar men and asked if Danemore said anything – anything at all – before passing. Since Danemore said nothing, Bishop has no information to divulge, even if he wanted to.
Bishop has become unemployed after his boss’s death, but these strange men and their questions have piqued his curiosity. He acknowledges his years spent on the upkeep of Danemore’s public identity as millionaire, industrialist, and philanthropist while having no genuine proof that Victor was any of these things. Danemore’s beautiful and considerably younger widow Dominique (Page), who confesses a hidden love for Bishop, does not even have an idea of what the man was up to. With an urge for closure, Bishop starts to investigate Danemore’s background. He begins prying around without an endorsement from Dominique, who considers ignorance to be bliss and is happy to trade her loveless marriage for a life of relative freedom.
The search leads Bishop to Vienna, where a mysterious document from Danemore is being held by an attorney, and Stockholm, where he chats with the widow of an industrialist whom his boss frequently joined at meetings. The industrialist’s adult daughter Brita (Thulin, listed as ‘Ingrid Tulean’ in the credits) is highly attractive and charming; the two become smitten. This all happens while Bishop is being tailed by Jonathan Spring (Frédéric O’Brady), an investigator who has been hired by someone just as interested in Danemore’s past. Along the way, Bishop walks onto a scene of murder, learns of international blackmail, and becomes a target himself.
This description may not sound like enough for a motion picture and, indeed, Foreign Intrigue runs short on depth and what its title is advertising. As the synopsis makes clear, Intrigue has no connection to the TV show’s journalism premise and only draws from its general spirit of espionage and an ambition to satisfy transatlantic audiences. The result is a flaky story that vacillates between spy drama, noir, and romantic thriller. When you consider that Foreign Intrigue was released seven years after The Third Man and a decade after Notorious, there is something antiquated about this story and how it tries to win the audience’s interest through a sloppy mix of politics, romance, and what were far-off locations. This film is also a clunky piece of technical work, with Reynolds failing to make any improvements on the directing style or methodology of his TV series despite better resources that seemed to be available.
As mentioned before, this film is held together by the talents of its three lead actors. Mitchum, Page, and Thulin have confining roles but their abilities defy them and make Foreign Intrigue much more watchable than it should be. Mitchum goes about his business in the cool manner that we’re familiar with, though he has little opportunity to show much else. It is intriguing, at least, to see Mitchum in color during his prime years, when he was better known for noir. Page, who appeared in films like Belle de Jour and Grand Prix, has the most limited role, but she plays it with a balance of upright demeanor and sexiness. Thulin was a favorite of Ingmar Bergman and appeared in nine of his films, including Wild Strawberries, Brink of Life, and The Silence; here, she is little beyond Bishop’s love interest, but it’s hard not to enjoy her presence.
Whatever these actors bring, it gets pulled down by the tepid script and a director who could not seem to do much outside of his television-based comfort zone. Reynolds, who was always listed in big cursive letters on the screen and must have thought very highly of himself, chose some nice locations that include buildings in Vienna and an assumably Stockholm waterfront, all well-captured by cinematographer Bertil Palmgren. However, he continued to use techniques and approaches from the TV series that easily fall into self-parody – for instance, the kitschy performances by supporting cast and extras and the screen wipes for transitioning from one scene to another.
Color film could also be the worst enemy of directors like Reynolds, as evidenced by at least one exterior background that is obviously painted onto a set and perhaps would have been less noticeable in black and white (Hitchcock had the same issue in films such as The Birds and Marnie). When you consider that so much attention was given to shooting on location, this giveaway is both strange and laughable. The soundtrack by Paul Durand (with an opening theme by Charles Norman) is often acceptable fluff from the TV series, but it gets very annoying in moments of tension, when we only hear percussion being tapped over, and over, and over. The film’s visual editing, audio, and dubbing of non-English speakers are average for better-financed productions of this era.
I was glad to have seen Foreign Intrigue as a fan of Robert Mitchum, but there is nothing that makes me care to watch it again. It is a puffed-up television episode whose talented cast raises it to levels of watchability. The story, which does tie into serious levels of international crime, has been better treated by more accomplished films. It would also have been nice to get a satisfying ending, but we don’t even have that; after Bishop’s investigation comes to a head and it is revealed (though I, at least, sensed all along) that Dominique is not the good girl she pretends to be, Foreign Intrigue concludes without a full resolution and suggests that a sequel or TV offshoot might have been in the works. Of course, nearly seventy years later, we know that neither came, which makes these untied strands extremely frustrating.
With all of its flaws, Foreign Intrigue is worth seeing once for its star factor and as a curio of when television was beginning to influence the motion picture industry. It will also be a nice shout to Geneviève Page, who is still with us – she is 95 years old as of June 2023. While I cannot recommend this film, it will be a serviceable time-waster for fans of the period.
Rating: 2/5