Charles Bronson appeared in three episodes of the ALFRED HITCHCOCK PRESENTS T.V. series. His first two appearances came in the first season in early 1956 when Bronson was still in the early stages of his career. When “The Woman Who Wanted to Live” aired on February 6th, 1962, Bronson’s standing in the film and television community had risen dramatically. Since those first two appearances, he had headlined several low budget films (MACHINE GUN KELLY and SHOWDOWN AT BOOT HILL), starred in his own television series (MAN WITH A CAMERA), and even co-starred as one of the seven gunmen in the western classic, THE MAGNIFICENT SEVEN! As opposed to those two early appearances, Bronson was a well known commodity to audiences in 1962, and he was on the precipice of breaking out in even bigger roles, as THE GREAT ESCAPE and THE DIRTY DOZEN were just over the horizon!
In “The Woman Who Wanted To Live,” we meet escaped convict Ray Bardon (Charles Bronson), a hardened criminal who was shot in the arm when busting out of prison. In serious pain and in need of some quick cash and a getaway vehicle, Bardon robs a remote gas station, even killing the attendant when he makes a move for his gun. Soon a beautiful young woman named Lisa (Lola Albright) drives up to the station. Bardon wants to steal her car and take off, but surprisingly Lisa, who sees his wounds, convinces him to let her drive him wherever he wants to go. As Bardon wonders why she’s willing to help him, Lisa assures him that she will do whatever he wants her to do as she just wants to stay alive. As they flee into the night, they have to deal with a flat tire and a gang of dangerous thugs, but Lisa continues to help Bardon and even passes up a couple of opportunities to take off to safety. Why is Lisa so invested in Bardon’s survival? If you’re guessing there’s more to the story, you would definitely be right!
After watching all three of Charles Bronson’s episodes of ALFRED HITCHCOCK PRESENTS, I believe that “The Woman Who Wanted To Live” just may be the best of the bunch. It’s not as creepy as “And So Died Riabouchinska,” and it certainly doesn’t play up the black comedy like “There Was An Old Woman,” but it does pack quite the emotional punch. First, the story is very effective, as we watch the bond that seems to be developing between the escaped criminal and his captive. You can’t help but wonder if we may be watching two twisted souls who may actually need each other. Hitchcock was always good at throwing people into desperate situations together, and script definitely goes that route here. In the short 25 minutes contained in this episode, each character is given the opportunity to truly help the other, as she helps mend his wounds and he protects her from roadside thugs with bad intentions. Even as the two help each other, as the story plays on, a tightening grip seems to take hold on the audience as to why Lisa hasn’t escaped when she’s had her chances. The strength of the episode just may be the fact that when the big reveal happens, it’s as plain as the nose on your face even though I never considered it a single time, something I have in common with our criminal, Frank Bardon. Second, this episode features two excellent performances from the stars. Interestingly, Charles Bronson and Lola Albright would appear together in the Elvis movie, KID GALAHAD, later this same year. As usual, Bronson brings a real world intensity to the role of the wounded and desperate criminal. With his lived in features, Bronson is incapable of presenting himself in a way that doesn’t seem true and authentic, whether he’s playing a cop or a killer, and his presence here is a clear indicator of his impending stardom. In a tribute to Albright’s performance, the two stars have quite a nice chemistry together, and she steals the final scenes as her character transforms right in front of our eyes and we understand why she’s refused to run away.
With its strong script and the excellent lead performances from Bronson and Albright, I easily recommend “The Woman Who Wanted To Live” as a superior episode of ALFRED HITCHCOCK PRESENTS. This episode truly surprised me and has lingered with me since I first watched it a few days ago.
Through the Shattered Lens 