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Twelve Hours to Kill


TWELVE HOURS TO KILL
(1960, Cahn)
A film with the number 12 (Twelve, Twelfth, etc.) in its title



"This time we'll make sure there isn't any leak, or any chance of anybody stumbling over. He'll just disappear."

The above statement has to do with Martin Filones (Nico Minardos), a Greek man in New York City that ends up witnessing the murder of a gangster. But reading the statement without context, you probably couldn't tell if whoever said it is looking for Filones' benefit or harm. Leaks to who? Disappear how? That ambiguity is a key part of this lean and effective crime film from director Edward L. Cahn.

Twelve Hours to Kill follows Filones as he's sent to a small town called Denton, supposedly as a way to protect him. Unfortunately, the two thugs sent to silence him follow him there, forcing Filones to doubt of everyone, especially those that are sworn to protect him. His only ally seems to be Lucy (Barbara Eden), a local woman that shelters him at her home.

Stumbling into little films like this is one of the joys of this challenge. This is a very low budget, B-film that I had never heard of, and yet, it was a pleasant surprise. There is little flash to it, but it is still a pretty tight crime thriller, with some grit to it. Minardos and Eden have a certain innocent charm, but they are as effective when the story goes to more darker places.

The film is not without its flaws. The pace is a bit off around the middle section, and even at 83 minutes, feels like its stretched a bit too long. But the solid lead performances, the ambiguity of the characters, and those B-movie rough edges make it work.

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