The Prowler

Synopsis: In a fancy suburb in California, the gorgeous housewife Susan Gilvray finds a prowler outside her house late one night and she calls the police. Officer Webb Garwood and his partner answer the call but do not find anyone. Later Webb returns to Susan's house with the pretext of checking if everything is OK. Susan invites him in to have coffee with her. Webb soon learns that Susan is married to John Gilvray, a middle-aged broadcaster of a late night radio show. They also discover that they are from the same hometown. Webb makes a pass at Susan and even though she tries to put him off they soon start a love affair. When John becomes suspicious Susan ends her relationship with Webb. Though difficult Webb stays away from Susan. Without Susan's knowledge Webb plots a scheme to get rid of John; he simulates a scenario where John is "accidently" shot dead. There is an inquest and it is ruled that John Gilvray's death was not intentional. Webb quits the police-force a job he was never happy doi
Director(s): Joseph Losey
Production: VCI Entertainment
 
IMDB:
7.3
Rotten Tomatoes:
100%
Year:
1951
92 min
Website
171 Views


131-A, code 1.

Quite a hacienda.

Oh, thank you so much for coming.

You reported a prowler, ma'am?

Yes. About 20 minutes ago.

I looked up, and there was

this man looking in the window.

Which window?

It was one of the back windows.

There's an empty lot on

that side, isn't there?

Yes.

When he saw that I'd seen him, he jumped

away from the window, and I phoned you.

We'd better check that

lot for footprints, Webb.

Roger.

Now, if you'll show me the window.

Oh, yes, of course. Right this way.

You'd been sleeping?

No, just resting.

I don't sleep very much at night.

And that's where you saw the face, huh?

No. In here.

I'd been lying on the bed

resting and listening to the

radio, and I thought if I

took a bath, I might be able

to sleep better.

And afterwards, just as

I was putting my robe on,

I looked up, and there he was.

Well, if I was you, from now

on, I'd keep the curtain closed.

You ever notice in a bank,

they always keep the counting

room out of sight so the

customers won't get tempted.

I suppose you're right.

I just didn't think. Oh, it's you.

No footprints out here.

The grass has just been cut, and

they'd be kind of hard to spot.

Then again, maybe the

lady's just imagining things.

He was just as plain as

your friend's face just now.

I'm sorry to have caused

you all this trouble,

but I do get nervous at night, and...

That's our job, ma'am.

You always alone at night?

Yes.

The maid comes in daytimes, but

she leaves right after dinner.

Well, from now on, be sure and

pull the shades and lock the door.

I will.

Think you feel comfortable

enough for us to leave now?

Oh, yes, I'm perfectly all right now.

I'm sure you are.

Goodnight, ma'am.

Goodnight, and thank you.

Call us again if you need us.

Yes, I will.

That is quite a dish.

Here.

I don't suppose any use

asking you to stop by tonight

and take a squint at our collection.

Pretty plush, if you can get it.

You know, the wife spent

the whole day today polishing

up those specimens we

found out around Barstow.

She's pretty proud of them.

I wish I could convince

you a hobby's a good thing,

especially for the good

things you learn on the side.

I wonder what her angle is.

Huh?

Say I wonder what her angle is.

Her? No angle.

They're well-heeled.

You know, there's history

slathered over every square

foot of this country of ours.

And one time or another, me and

the old lady has dozed it out.

Like those ghost towns I tell you about.

We never would have seen them if

it hadn't been for our rockology.

Is she married?

Yeah. Sure she is.

Some crackpot squeezed

enough dough to retire and

then works for the fun of it.

Can you tie that?

If I had his moolah, I'd take the hills.

That house must have

set him back plenty.

Yeah, maybe 35, 40 grand in this market.

Probably beats his mother.

Heads or tails?

Nevermind, Bud.

I'll check us in.

Oh, hello.

Come in.

Thank you. I was just passing by.

I thought I'd check to see if

everything's still all right.

Why, yes.

At least I think so.

Do prowlers generally come

twice in the same night?

No, but we do.

It's part of the job.

Hope I didn't wake you up.

Oh, no. I was just

having a cup of coffee.

We're generally supposed

to make check-up calls,

especially where women are

concerned, and when they're alone.

Well, if you're sure

everything's all right,

I'll be on my way.

Wouldn't you like come coffee?

Thanks, if it's not too much trouble.

Oh, no. It's no trouble at all.

Well, then make mine

milk, if you have it, huh?

Just sit down and I'll get it.

Looks like somebody around

here's been in show business.

That's right.

Actress, huh?

I tried to be. It didn't work out.

You're good-looking enough.

What's the matter, didn't

you have enough pull?

I was just a little short of talent.

Aren't you going to have your milk?

Oh, yeah. Sure.

You know, I've got to keep in shape.

I suppose you're married. Most of

the good-looking girls I run into are.

Is this questionnaire

in the line of duty?

Could be.

I am married. Happily married.

If I was happily married

to a girl like you,

I wouldn't leave you alone nights.

John doesn't. He's here 24 hours a day.

Tender yellow young squash we sell

down here at the Ranch Market.

I give them to the wife.

And by the way, there is a little

lady who really knows squash.

Well, she puts them over a slow flame...

I hear that program every

night. Is he your husband?

He is.

No kidding?

Isn't he the one always signs off

with I'll be seeing you, Susan?

That's right.

Yeah. Well, then you're Susan.

Disappointing though it may be, I am.

That's a real coincidence, isn't it?

My name's Webb. Webb Garwood.

Webb Garwood. Somehow

that sounds familiar.

Hey, wait a minute. Where are you from?

Indiana. Terre Haute.

Did you ever see East Indianapolis play

Terre Haute High School? Basketball?

Of course I have.

You're not that Webb?

Nobody else.

You played center. We got beat

three Years in a row because of you.

Oh, well. There were four other

guys on the team, you know.

I know, but you were the only

one we were really afraid of.

Didn't you get a scholarship

to some college or something?

Yeah.

I don't follow the

sport pages very well.

I don't seem to remember

what happened after that.

Scored the winning

point on our first game.

After the second game,

they put me on the bench.

Coach said they were trying

to teach us to work as a team.

I got him thrown opened good,

right in front of the whole squad.

From then on, he had it

in for me, that's all.

Told the athletic director,

and they stopped my dough.

Just another one of my lousy breaks.

Hadn't been for that, I'd

have had my four years of

college, have a nice, soft

job in one of those big bond

houses, and I'd be eating lunch

every day in the university club.

I used to clip your picture

out of the Terre Haute paper.

Yeah.

Who'd ever have thought...

That I'd turn out to be

just another dumb cop, huh?

Oh, no. I wasn't thinking that at all.

I was just thinking how funny

it is the way you meet people.

Yeah.

People you never thought you'd meet.

They say there's no such

thing as a native Californian.

Those were the days, no kidding.

I wish we'd met there instead of here.

What street did you live on there?

Lakeview.

Oh, well, that explains it.

You had sidewalks and

lawns out in front.

I lived down on Carrington.

My old man's idea of success was

a buck 20 an hour union scale.

He's a maintenance

worker in the oil fields.

He must have had a dozen chances

to cut loose on his own...

make himself some real

dough wild-catting, but he

was too yellow to risk his buck

20 an hour, so he never made it.

Well, it's just about

that time, you night owls.

This is John Gilvray bringing

to a close the Ranch Market...

It's almost his signing-off time.

I've got to check out, too.

I guess you'll feel

safe from now on, huh?

Wouldn't you like to stay

and have breakfast with us?

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Hugo Butler

Hugo D. Butler (4 May 1914 – 7 January 1968) was a Canadian born screenwriter working in Hollywood who was blacklisted by the film studios in the 1950s. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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