The cops ran Doug Wilson out of Los Angeles years ago. Now, with his brother dead, he's back in town for the funeral, and no more welcome than before -- even his mother doesn't want to see him. He still has some connections, and the story he hears doesn't make sense. He starts investigating.
It's a cheap feature, with every credit by folks who worked in the lower fringes of Hollywood. Sometimes they might have had twenty credits, sometimes none. The writer, Bruce Wehling, is best remembered for EEGAH! The director never helmed another movie, the cinematographer had bottom-of-the-barrel credits. I was astonished at how well it worked.
Part of it is that it's a good story, like something that Donald Westlake wrote as Richard Stark, or GET CARTER with a moral heart to it. To me it's indicative of how much talent there was in Hollywood that never really got a chance. The script is good, the pace is fast, the acting is good and the camerawork is supple. What more do you want from a one-hour movie?