(3 of 3)
Saints and Sinners (London Films) is a muggy Irish shenanigan. Like many a European movie, it takes an arty, patronizing view of the lower classes. Its argument is that every peasant is a darlin' in wolf's clothing, quaint by virtue of his avarice, hypocrisy and superstition. This reworking of a sentimental notion turns up nothing new except some well-oiled character acting.
The plot opens with a bonny-faced convict (Kieron Moore) returning to the postcard hamlet of Kilwirra to clear himself of the robbery charges against him. In the process, he inadvertently proves all the other villagers dishonest. The philosophical implications of this gentle-paced idyl are sometimes furthered and sometimes obscured by the emotional didos of a ponderously melancholy siren (Christine Norden) and a fiercely spiritual little barmaid (Sheila Manahan).
Standing up, Miss Norden looks like a monument to the dress industry; but her more becoming pose is lying down. England's new matinee idol, Kieron Moore, has an unusual change-of-pace style of acting. He gives the effect of a meandering block of dispossessed concrete that suddenly pauses and sparkles whenever an actress appears on the scene. Saints and Sinners allows the Abbey Players to have a histrionic field day in the Irish countryside.