The then married pair of Stewart Granger and Jean Simmons scheme their way through this natty Gaslight-like noir that paints foggy old London a murderous red. An aristocratic gentleman (Granger) finds his public grief over his mysteriously dead wife (“I must learn to be alone,” he heaves) interrupted by a hovering servant lass (Simmons), who's observed that bottle of poison in the cellar, and wouldn't mind using that knowledge for a trip up the manor's class staircase-all the way into the master's bed. “I do know my place, sir,” she claims; “It's with you. And it's a place I'm never going to give up.” The master, however, has other ideas: a few nocturnal chases, daylight trials, and slow poisonings later, the maid's place may be in the manor, or in the grave. Technicolor nihilism in Edwardian dress, Footsteps in the Fog presents a vision of human nature (and class struggle) that's as dank as its fogbound setting.