Purely Joyful Movie!

Too much about the plot just didn't add up, the writing was bad, some of the scenes were cringey and awkward,

I think this is a new genre that they're all sort of working their way through it and haven't got all the kinks worked out yet but it's a genre that works for me.

Let me be very fair here, this is not the best movie in my opinion. But, this movie is fun, it has purpose and is very enjoyable to watch.

Highway Dragnet is directed by Nathan Juran and written by Herb Meadow, U.S.Anderson, Roger Corman and Jerome Odlum. It stars Richard Conte, Joan Bennett, Wanda Hendrix and Reed Hadley. Music is by Edward J. Kay and cinematography by John J. Martin.All I did was buy her a drink. One drink, and for 65 cents I bought a martini mixed with dynamite!Though indexed in some sources as film noir, this barely resonates as such. It is basically a man on the lam picture, where Conte is wrongly accused of murder and has to go on the run to escape police arrest. He hitches with two gals, who start to become wary of their newly acquired companion. So, we have cops trying to capture their target, with near misses and with Reed "The Voice" Hadley heading up the dragnet operation, whilst there's the mystery element of who is the killer hanging in the air. Cast are fine and the production is standard fare, the finale at least serves up an atmospheric locale, and there's some decent snatches of dialogue. But really it's average at best and not one to seek out as a matter of urgency. 5/10

The budget on this noir film is as thin as dental floss and the story was rushed into a limited time frame. But Highway Dragnet does have its moments as Richard Conte newly discharged Korean War veteran has himself in a beautiful jackpot over the beautiful Mary Beth Hughes.Not the quick moments with her. But the fact Conte is accused of killing her after having a quick fling. In fact Mary Beth's small role at the beginning of Highway Dragnet is the best thing in the movie.Conte's arrested by Las Vegas cop Reed Hadley but he escapes from him and now there's a big manhunt on for him. Conte happens to hook up with magazine photographer Joan Bennett and model Wanda Hendrix. That turns out to be a dubious occurrence.The plot is a thin one and about halfway through you know exactly what the real story is. Still there's a modicum of suspense.And any film with Mary Beth Hughes and Iris Adrian playing a truck-stop hash slinger is worth watching.

Interesting chase drama. That opening bar scene with Conte and Hughes is a tacky gem. Too bad Hughes disappears much too soon. And where else can you find two of Hollywood's best cheap blondes, Hughes and Iris Adrian, in the same film. Too bad they don't have a scene together to see who can out-cheap the other. Anyhow, Conte's escaping across the desert from Las Vegas cops for a murder he didn't commit. Along the way he dragoons two women, Bennett and Hendix, as sometimes helpers, sometimes hostages. The movie's real star, however, is a four-wheel hunk of junk that's a real trouper. That it can roll at all amounts to a Detroit miracle. But why someone would drive it off-road into the desert is a genuine puzzle. And that's a problem with the movie as a whole. It starts off well, but becomes a mounting stretch over time, especially movie star Bennett in her flowing white gown that never gets any dirtier despite a trip across the elements. Good thing Conte's there to carry the show. Too bad he didn't give Hendrix some acting lessons.Credit some producer, maybe Roger Corman in his first gig, for filming doggedly on location. Those desert and Salton Sea stagings really help hold the flick together. Plus, someone had an eye on trends of the day. The title "Highway Dragnet" combines parts from two of the most successful TV crime series of the time, Namely "Dragnet" and "Highway Patrol". Then add cop Reed Hadley from "Racket Squad", and you've got a cross-section of early 50's thick- ear, which I'm sure didn't hurt attendance.All in all, it's a pretty good little flick. Then too it's the only film, A or B, that I've seen where the happy couple repairs at movie's end to a run-down house half under water! So Hollywood can come up with new wrinkles, after all.

I enjoyed this piece of what my current neighbors would call basura. I mean, it's done by the numbers. It's utterly stupid but exquisitely so.Richard Conte is Jim Henry, just released from the USMC, decorated several times, so we know he's a good guy. He stops for a drink in a Las Vegas bar while hitch-hiking to meet a friend in California. He politely offers to buy a drunk for a frowzy blond sitting on the next stool. She initiates a fracas. The next morning she's found strangled with a strap. The police pin it on Conte and the papers dub him "The Strap Killer." Later, Conte muses, "Sure, I bought her a martini. Sixty-five cents worth of dynamite." (That's the closest we get to poetry.) But Conte escapes, and is reluctantly given a ride through the desert by two women, the professional photographer Joan Bennett and her model, young Wanda Hendrix. The women soon find out who Conte is supposed to be. The viewer with insight or experience will figure out the real murderer at about the half-way point.The police spread a dragnet across points on the highway but Conte eludes them one way or another. You should see him smash through wooden barriers and demolish a couple of parked motorcycles. This is one tough swinging Jim.Acting. Nobody wins the silver star here. Conte snaps out his lines in a brusque and commanding tone. His style, which hardly ever varied, doesn't clash with the character though. Joan Bennett, who was fine elsewhere, is here given a role that turns her into an irritating nuisance. Her New York accent sounds thoroughly specious and swank, with Albian overtones. "After" becomes "Ah-fter." Wanda Hendrix can't act.The story is a kind of mechanical armature around which these three characters (four, if you count the sonorous Reed Hadley, the earnest cop) are molded. It's as if a couple of experienced writers of B features sat down and said, "Let's have the hero trying to escape from the police on a desert highway. How many different narrow escapes can we think of?" They did a good job. The close calls are uncountable. Somebody may look at Conte suspiciously and say, "Hey, didn't I just see your picture in the --", and the phone rings. Or the director cross cuts between police cars with their sirens ululating and Conte frantically trying to get gas at a station in the middle of nowhere. Only the owner is a lazy Mexican who has an old gas pump that is hand operated, and he ever-so-slowly pushes the handle back and forth while chatting amiably about how he and the ancient gas pump are "friends." It's all absurd and fun. Best thing about the movie is the location shooting, which nicely evokes the Mojave desert and, later, the climax at the Salton Sea. Maybe others might not like it as much as I do. It redintegrates memories of being a teen and being cooped up on a Coast Guard cutter that circled for weeks in mid-Pacific. Once in a while, an old movie would be shown at night, and this was one of them. We wept with joy. And Wanda Hendrix, actress or not, looked pretty good.