During the 1950s, Anne Baxter appeared in any number of routine, less than distinguished crime thrillers last gasps of the dying noir cycle that were long on plot but short on style. One of them, The Come-On, is a warmed-over tale of murder and duplicity, but Baxter, bless her trouper's heart, gives it her considerable all as though she were starring in a major-studio `A' production.
Coming out of the surf down in Mexico, Baxter finds Sterling Hayden ogling her. They strike sparks and agree to meet aboard his boat, the imaginatively christened Lucky Lady. She abruptly leaves their rendezvous; later, in a bar, Sterling sees her with her drunken, abusive husband (John Hoyt). It happens, however, that Baxter and Hoyt aren't really married but partners in a racket high-class grifters. Only Baxter wants out and wants Hayden to help her by murdering Hoyt.
It's a mechanical, wheels-within-wheels plot, featuring a mercenary gumshoe (Jesse White) and `accidents' with missing bodies that turn out to be neither missing nor bodies, at least in the dead sense. Through it all, Baxter, emotes all over the place (never more effectively than in a scene near a mail chute, where an incriminating letter may or may not be headed to the police). Sterling's role is less meaty: He's not quite the chump, but except for throwing a couple of slaps and punches, he's pretty passive. Come to think of it, he appeared in any number of routine, less than distinguished crime thrillers during the 1950s, too.
Coming out of the surf down in Mexico, Baxter finds Sterling Hayden ogling her. They strike sparks and agree to meet aboard his boat, the imaginatively christened Lucky Lady. She abruptly leaves their rendezvous; later, in a bar, Sterling sees her with her drunken, abusive husband (John Hoyt). It happens, however, that Baxter and Hoyt aren't really married but partners in a racket high-class grifters. Only Baxter wants out and wants Hayden to help her by murdering Hoyt.
It's a mechanical, wheels-within-wheels plot, featuring a mercenary gumshoe (Jesse White) and `accidents' with missing bodies that turn out to be neither missing nor bodies, at least in the dead sense. Through it all, Baxter, emotes all over the place (never more effectively than in a scene near a mail chute, where an incriminating letter may or may not be headed to the police). Sterling's role is less meaty: He's not quite the chump, but except for throwing a couple of slaps and punches, he's pretty passive. Come to think of it, he appeared in any number of routine, less than distinguished crime thrillers during the 1950s, too.