There are some lukewarm reviews on IMDB for the film but
it’s a convincing kitchen-sink crime drama with a memorable if occasionally jarring
lead performance from David McCallum as the troubled petty crook Terry Collins.
As Collins, McCallum never lets the intensity drop as a rebel with no cause but
his own and no loyalty to family or friends. The exception to this is dancer Sue,
played by McCallum’s then wife, Jill Ireland who I have to say provides the
most stunning of catwalks for her moment in the club; she’s got star power to
spare, as with her husband, and near infinite legs!
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| David McCallum |
As with the excellent but underused Kenneth Cope, they
bring out what there is of the drama and make this low budget Las Vegas a low-impact
but compelling watch for a bank holiday afternoon; the showgirls may be faking
it but the feeling of supressed violence and desperation is tangible.
All begins with an old man’s late-night bus journey from
Notting Hill set to a swinging Harold Geller score. He arrives at his
destination and gets fatally knocked out by a blackjack wielded by petty Terry
who takes his money and throws his wallet down the drain.
We’ve had the violence so now it’s time for “sex” as we
enter the Adam and Eve club presumably down a dark Soho Alley to find smiley
Marian Collins introducing a variety of acts starting with “Dimples” (Vanda
Hudson) in tight-fitting silver slacks and, initially at least, matching top,
as she strips and sings “I’m Only a Girl” to row after row of pale, stale males
sucking harder on their cigarettes with every gyration and discarded item of
clothing; it’s definitely the singer and not the song.
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| Jill Ireland and her near infinte legs... |
Terry arrives at the club just as a black dancer (Faye
Craig) gives the film’s most overtly sexual performance – just as with Pascaline
in Beat Girl… the differing moral standards of the age towards “native”
dance and expression? He settles down to a short and salty exchange with Joe
Lucas (Brian Weske) a lower league but established criminal who none-the-less
has more street smarts.
Backstage, star attraction Sue, who is fending off the
advances of club owner and gutter entrepreneur, Jacko Fielding (John Chandos)
before taking to the stage. Sue’s dance is perhaps more graceful and composed
than you’d expect in such a dive but Jill Ireland simply acts her way through
it with a range of expressions that conveys much beyond the choreographed
physical routine. With the occasional cut-away to an increasingly distracted Terry,
she’s defiant, alluring and ultimately in control of the room. You get the
feeling there could have been a much deeper story here.
But. Not today… what we get is not enough character
development and a story that, whilst competently directed by Charles Saunders,
falls between the twin stools of titillation, crime and socially aware drama.
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| Grumpy breakfast with mum and his ol' dad. |
Terry’s tense breakfast with his belligerent Dad (Thomas
Gallagher) and long-suffering mother (Edna Doré) starts with a close-up of a
fry-up and abrasive exchanges that almost lead to violence; they’re a family on
the brink and Terry’s either going to put up or shut up. The headline in The Daily
Express tells him there is no going back as it’s revealed that his mugging has
turned into a murder.
But no one seems to take Terry seriously and as the girls
in the club, Dimples, Margo (Anne Scott) and another (Gillian Watt) laugh at
him he slaps out and is floored by a fierce straight right from Dealer (Fred Griffiths). Terry just hasn’t got what it takes and just doesn’t know it and as
Sue takes pity on him, getting him laid out in her dressing room her quickly turns
from grateful of hateful as he forces himself on her.
Things are about to get worse for Terry though as his
former partner in crime, Johnny Calvert (Kenneth Cope), gets early release from
Wormwood Scrubs and comes looking for his share of the proceeds from the job
that landed him in clink as well as his old love, Sue. Terry’s spent the money
though, of course, but has a plan to rob the club and pay his mate back in
spades.
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| Gillian Watt dances as Kenneth Cope and David McCallum make plans |
Johnny’s hard to persuade though after making up with Sue
– accepting his own part in her having to turn to this life even as Jacko is
lining up a new star dancer Dolly (a brief cameo from Jacqueline Jones who was
in Antonioni’s Il Grigo in 1957). Meanwhile the coppers have found the
old man’s wallet and, having identified prints, are sweeping the neighbourhood trying
to find the matching fingers…
Time is running out and everything will turn on the boy’s
plan to rob the club – just one last job to get Johnny the money to get away
with Sue and Terry’s only hope of escaping the law. What do you reckon’s going
to happen?
Dusty Verdict: Jungle Street is very near the real
thing and is saved by the grit of McCallum and the grace of Ireland. There’s decent
support all round and you do end up caring about – most – of the characters
although Terry’s a particularly un-redeeming character which, to be fair, is
the point; we keep on expecting him to turn the corner but he can’t and whatever
he sows, he reaps. Plenty of character actors to spot and there’s a smashing
turn from Meier Tzelniker as elderly jeweller Mr. Rose. Shirley Anne Field has
a bit part too although she doesn’t dance.
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| Attentive audience |
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| Vanda Hudson |
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| Marian Collins |
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| Faye Craig |
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| Jill Ireland |
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| Anne Scott |
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| Gillian Watt |
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| John Chandos and Jacqueline Jones who had a much bigger role in Antonioni's acclaimed Il Grido (1957) |
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