Have you ever felt genuine fear? The Chase comes from director Arthur Ripley, with a screenplay by Philip Yordan based on Cornell Woolrich’s novel The Black Path of Fear. It features Robert Cummings, Steve Cochran, Michèle Morgan, Peter Lorre and Jack Holt, accompanied by music from Michel Michelet and cinematography by Frank F. Planer. The story follows Chuck Scott (Cummings), a World War II veteran struggling financially, who finds a wallet and returns it to its owner. That owner is Eddie Roman (Cochran), seemingly a successful businessman who rewards Chuck’s honesty with a job as his chauffeur. From that point forward, things will never be the same. The Chase is one of those films that entered the public domain, developed a cult following despite numerous poor prints, and now could reasonably be considered essential viewing for fans of film noir. Regardless of print quality, it creates an atmosphere of dread and exists in a space between fantasy and horror. Ripley (who also directed Thunder Road in 1958) constructs the entire movie as if it were a dream, keeping most of it set at night; he and cinematographer Franz Planer work well with Woolrich’s story, using deliberate pacing and shadows to shape the characters. The effect is claustrophobic and strange, but Ripley maximizes the impact by disorienting the audience for a bizarre conclusion. Some might consider this a cheap trick, while others will appreciate its resemblance to Orson Welles' style; either way, it’s definitely not boring. Cummings does an adequate job as the protagonist whose world is suddenly thrown into chaos through drugs, sleep deprivation and perfume, while Morgan delivers a good performance—even though her character feels underdeveloped and often exists solely for romantic purposes. Cochran, only two years into his acting career, is a powerful and unsettling presence as the handsome and manipulative Roman. It’s an intimidating portrayal of someone who abuses women and will do anything to get what he wants. But even Cochran's performance is overshadowed by another sly appearance from Lorre, standing alongside his boss and delivering both phlegm and sarcastic remarks; Lorre alone makes it worth watching. Jack Holt also provides solid supporting work in a significant smaller role. It doesn’t break new ground or become hugely important to the history of film noir. However, it is an important example within that genre, and I would suggest seeing it if you're interested in dreamlike oppression. 7/10

Source on TMDB