This is a modest British B thriller of the mid-fifties, which contains no remarkable performance. Its chief interest is historical, in that it shows some interesting shots of London at the time, and gives an extended view of what London's airport was like in 1955, including inside the hangars. The urbane and suave Tom Conway plays yet another gentleman detective, but he seems to have no zest for it this time, and his flirtations with women have lost their zing entirely, as he is getting on a bit and showing it. The plot concerns commercial espionage. Everyone wants to get hold of a new chemical formula to combat metal fatigue in aircraft and sell it for a fortune. Various chaps wave guns unconvincingly, someone gets shot in the shoulder, several unscrupulous people ooze greed enough to make us believe them, a girl is kidnapped without looking particularly frightened, and the plot is complex enough not to be boring. Honor Blackman has a major role, looking glamorous and intense, but has no magic. Arthur Lowe, later popular on television, does well in a cameo. Michael Balfour is silly as Conway's sidekick. This is no classic, but it is not hopeless.
