While the first episode of "The Whistler" film series was a very enjoyable film noir (and a great way to start off the series), the second one ranks as practically excellent, totally intriguing from start to finish and filled with ironic laughs that kept my attention and make me want to see how it unfolded. Having played a businessman who decided to have himself bumped off in the first of the series, Richard Dix is now a down-on-his-luck drifter who pretends to be somebody else in order to inherit an unclaimed bequest. But with schemes like this comes risk, and he's paranoid throughout, first by going to the bank to claim the bequest and later on when he realizes that he is being watched. But friendship comes from the strangest of on-lookers, and that is through a crippled panhandler (Paul Guilfoyle) standing outside the bank who overheard his identity when Dix was confronted by reporter Janis Carter.

Porter Hall is excellent as the cynical but naive flophouse operator who allows Dix to stay with him so he can get mail in order to establish his "identity". Every little detail in this "B" film noir is excellent, from the feeling of paranoia that Dix gets from being watched to his relief every time it seems like he's getting away with identity theft. The two scenes in the bank where he makes his claim then later receives the bequest are classics with every detail letter perfect. Even though he's committing a serious crime, there are times where I really wanted him to get away with it. Some great minor character bits, most memorable for me is the scene-stealing Minerva Urecal as (always) a crusty landlady whom Dix gets information from in regards to the building where his identity theft victim used to live. Willie Best, whose "stereotypical" black coward always added some reluctant laughs, shows here that behind that scaredy cat is actually a very smart man, here playing a restroom attendant who helps Dix escape from his pursuers but when confronted by a gun must reveal what he did. You might see a big plot twist coming a mile away, but even when that does happen, it's done in such a wonderfully acerbic way that it makes it all the more better.

This was the second of the eight self-contained Whistler films starring Richard Dix, still playing a goodie but this time with more bad in him. Also after the first my second favourite entry in the series.

Lee Nugent – mark that name – is a human derelict who hits upon the idea of impersonating a man whose bank is advertising for him to appear and claim his dormant bank account. He doesn't initially know how much money is involved but when he does get it he gives Porter Hall a fair price for the loan of his suits … Things start to get complicated when he bumps into Limpy the match seller and a determined newspaper reporter played by Janis Carter – just before she played a determined newspaper reporter in One Mysterious Night! Favourite bits: Signing his name but blotting his middle initial in the bank; Some of the sinister scenes with John Calvert chasing after Dix. The overall moral is Let Your Conscience Be Your Guide, with Dix you can believe it too. With one twist after another the last one is a little twee but still effective.

No cgi cartoonery, swearing, sex or violence, just b&w and an intricate story well acted make for a very pleasant hour.

This entry is the best in this above-average series from Columbia. All the stories had intriguing premises and clever twists, but this one even more so, since it was based on an original by Cornell Woolrich, that master of gloom, fate and paranoia. You definitely won't see the last curveball coming. There's a nice element of "Crime and Punishment"-like guilt infiltrating the protagonist's shady exploits, although it's not directly responsible for his downfall. The material is the essence of noir, but Castle filmed it straightforwardly for the most part. In his early days before churning out his gimmicky horror pics, he knew how to add telling little touches and include fascinatingly offbeat characters on the margins. All the same, one can't help thinking that this might have been a low-budget noir masterpiece along the lines of "Blind Spot" or "Fear in the Night" if the style had been more doom-laden and shadowy.