Stolen Face (1952)

Director:

Terence Fisher

Writers:

Martin Berkeley (writer)
Richard H. Landau (writer)

Release Date:

16 June 1952 (USA)

Genre:

Drama

Plot:

A plastic surgeon has a brief fling with a concert pianist, then she leaves him to go back to her previous boyfriend...

Plot Keywords:

Plastic Surgery | British Noir

Cast

Paul Henreid	...	Dr. Philip Ritter
Lizabeth Scott	...	Alice Brent / Lily Conover, after surgery
André Morell	...	David
Mary Mackenzie	...	Lily Conover, before surgery
John Wood	...	Dr. John 'Jack' Wilson
Arnold Ridley	...	Dr. Russell
Susan Stephen	...	Betty
Diana Beaumont	...	May
Terence O'Regan	...	Pete Snipe, Lily's friend

Runtime:

72 min

Country:

UK

Language:

English

Color:

Black and White

Aspect Ratio:

1.37 : 1

Sound Mix:

Mono

Filming Locations:

Riverside Studios, Hammersmith, London, England, UK

Company:

Hammer Film Productions

Trivia:

The first film of John Wood.

Pygmalion story gone horribly wrong is far-fetched premise of Britnoir

If cosmetic surgeons could create faces like Lizabeth Scott's at will, they would be making even more than they earn now, or did half a century ago when A Stolen Face hit theaters. (But then the surgically created evil twin has been a staple of pulp movies up to John Woo's Face/Off). On holiday somewhere in England, Paul Henried, as an M.D., meets up with concert pianist (!) Scott. They fall in love, but she's spoken for. Back in grimy postwar London, he finds a patient horribly scarred in the blitz, refashions her into the spit-and-image of Scott, and marries the impudent baggage (a Cockney fadge with one foot in the gutter and the other on a banana peel). Their marriage, for some reason, does not go well. Re-enter Lizabeth Scott, who now has to play a double role.... The movie's not terrible, at least, though these noirish exercises set in Britain always have a fusty, half-hearted feel to them, more a mug of white tea than a snort of bonded Bourbon. Both Scott and Henried were well into the downslope of their careers -- which may, more than the locale, account for the enervated pace and commitment.