Oh man, where to start? I love pre-60's movies, especially film noirs. Here's a few of my Letterboxd reviews for my favourites.
The Big Heat
Homicide detective Dave Bannion (played by Glenn Ford) changes from a good-natured family man into a short-fused avenger in this sterling Fritz Lang film.
Watching
The Big Heat is quite a riveting experience. The plot moves along at a nice pace, the cinematography is on point and there's an abundance of drama and intrigue to keep viewers on the edge of their seats. But watch out: this film pulls no punches! Someone shoots himself in the head in the very first scene, and it's followed by more nasty stuff like hands being burned by cigar butts, faces being disfigured by boiling coffee and people being blown to smithereens by car bombs. Of course, this being a fifties movie means the violence isn't very graphic compared to modern films. It's still dark and unsettling, though, which happens to be exactly how I like my noirs!
The Lost Weekend
Ray Milland shines as a man struggling with alcoholism in this terrific film by Billy Wilder. Considering the era it was created in,
The Lost Weekend's nuanced view on alcoholism is really striking. Don Birnam (Milland's character) is not some caricature of a drunkard to wag fingers at, but a fleshed-out person who, despite his many flaws, succeeds in gaining empathy and understanding from the audience.
Perhaps Milland's performance is a bit TOO good, because each time poor Don picked up a drink with trembling hands and knocked it back like someone who had just crawled out of the desert, I caught myself longing for a shot of liquor as well...
Double Indemnity
Billy Wilder knocked it out of the park with
Double Indemnity! This masterful noir features many staples of the genre: a deceitful femme fatale, a crazy murder plot, an abundance of suspense and intrigue, memorable dialogues and an atmosphere that deftly alternates between sinister and steamy. The only thing absent is the typical hard-boiled private eye, but having a gullible insurance salesman be the dame's prey is equally compelling. Recommended viewing for anyone who has even the slightest interest in the genre!
Witness for the Prosecution
Witness for the Prosecution is yet another marvelous film by the insanely talented Billy Wilder. The dialogues in this courtroom drama-slash-murder mystery are sharp and witty, and Charles Laughton's charmingly sarcastic delivery ensures practically every line from his character Sir Wilfrid is solid gold. Add in a few tense interrogation scenes, some colourful characters and a couple of clever twists and turns, and a delightful viewing experience is guaranteed.
The Big Clock
The Big Clock is an immensely entertaining suspense film. There's never a dull moment as we follow a couple of stressful days in the life of down-on-his-luck magazine editor George Stroud (a fine performance by Ray Milland).
When George becomes wrapped up in a murder case where all evidence seems to point to him, the office building he works at gradually turns into a prison with no means of escape. As the net around him tightens, viewers are in for some exciting moments that will keep them on the edge of their seat!
The ending is perhaps a bit too abrupt, but honestly who cares after such an amusing thrill ride?
Rififi
If there's one thing today's filmmakers can learn from
Rififi, it's how to build tension. The nerve-racking thirty-minute heist scene is arguably the highlight of the movie, and most of the suspense is created by omitting elements usually present in modern blockbusters, such as quick cuts, bombastic music and witty one-liners. In fact, not a single line of dialogue is uttered during this sequence, and it's all the better for it. The absence of music and dialogue during the heist amplifies the tension considerably, since it feels like this fragile silence is constantly in danger of being broken. It's an effective method of putting the audience in the shoes of the main characters and making the fear of accidentally triggering the alarm palpable.
Another aspect that makes
Rififi stand out from other movies of its ilk is the morality of main character Tony (Jean Servais). His morose demeanor and questionable sense of justice are a far cry from the carefree attitudes of lovable scamps like Danny Ocean. While he's far from a moustache-twirling crook, he's certainly no knight in shining armour either. There are two moments where Tony shows a really dark side. The first is when he viciously beats his former lover (Marie Sabouret) with a belt for hooking up with mobster Grutter (Marcel Lupovici), and the second is when he kills one of his accomplices for ratting him out. It's quite fitting that director Jules Dassin, who was blacklisted from Hollywood due to a fellow director squealing on him, decided to punish betrayal so severely in this film. Still, despite Tony's flaws, his unwavering loyalty towards his loved ones ultimately makes the viewer root for him, especially when he puts his life on the line for someone close to him towards the end of the movie.
Many heist movies have been released since
Rififi graced cinemas over sixty years ago. That very few have been able to reach its lofty heights is a testament to its quality. This film is so packed with drama and thrills that one would be hard-pressed to find a dull moment during its nearly two-hour running time. Another element deserving of high praise is the breathtaking cinematography. With its moody lighting and beautifully framed shots of Paris, calling it a feast for the eyes is no exaggeration.
Rififi has definitely stood the test of time and is essential viewing for heist fans and film noir aficionados.
The Lady Vanishes
The Lady Vanishes is a fine cocktail of a movie. Fill a glass with suspense, add a dash of mystery, a pinch of screwball comedy and a few drops of action, now mix it all together and you're in for ninety-six minutes of pure bliss!
There's a lot to like about this picture. The characters are charming (the two cricket fans steal the show), the setpieces are fun (the tomfoolery with the magician's contraptions is one of the highlights), and the mystery itself keeps the viewer guessing until the very end. No mean feat for a film from 1938!
The 39 Steps
Richard Hannay (played by a charismatic Robert Donat) is a wrongfully accused man on the run (this would become a recurring theme in Hitchcock's films). To make matters worse, he's handcuffed to a girl who's reluctant to aid him in his quest to clear his name, making his attempts to escape the clutches of deadly assassins all the more perilous.
This film was released way back in 1935, but with its brisk pace, witty dialogue and exciting twists and turns,
The 39 Steps puts a lot of modern thrillers to shame. It's packed with tension and humour, making its running time of 86 minutes fly by like a breeze.
Scarlet Street
Edward G. Robinson is most well-known for portraying tough-talking mobsters, but in this solid noir he proves he's also convincing in the role of a shy and gentle fellow longing for love and affection. His humbleness and naivety are disarming and make him an easy character to root for, making it all the more tragic when everything ultimately comes tumbling down.
Joan Bennett is also on a roll as Kitty March, the object of his desire and the catalyst for his downfall. While femme fatales usually ooze class and mystery while luring men into their traps, Kitty's barely capable of concealing her crude demeanor and wicked intentions. It doesn't matter, though, because Robinson's character is so smitten with her that he's oblivious of the nefarious plans she has in store for him. The intrigue that arises because of this makes
Scarlet Street an enthralling viewing experience.
Night and the City
It's a bit jarring seeing the leading parts in this London-based noir being played by Americans, but once you get used to the lack of British accents you're in for a treat!
Richard Widmark just radiates nervous energy whenever he's on screen, either trying to save his hide by running away from the people he duped, or desperately trying to find new victims for his crazy schemes. He's not a typical hardboiled, tough-talking noir protagonist; he's jittery, slimy and a bit pathetic, and his personality is one of the reasons this film is so captivating. I couldn't help feeling sorry for him, but at the same time I was anxiously waiting for his comeuppance!
The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari
The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari is a visually striking film that's part murder mystery and part fever dream. The rules of perspective don't exist in this surreal world, where crooked buildings with misshapen doors and windows line distorted streets that twist and turn every which way. It's a disturbing place, so it should come as no surprise that the people who populate it are an eccentric bunch, to say the least.
From the very first scene, where protagonist Francis (Friedrich Feher) is having a conversation with an elderly man who has a look of horror in his eyes and claims to be tormented by spirits, things feel decidedly off. A ghostly woman (Lil Dagover) appears and slowly walks past the men with her gaze fixed on the sky, as if in a state of trance. Francis, not the least bit fazed, mentions that she is his bride, and that they've experienced far stranger things together than the old man ever has.
What follows after this unsettling introduction is a long flashback, recounting Francis' confrontations with Dr. Caligari (Werner Krauss) and his creepy servant Cesare (Conrad Veidt, who would portray a similarly ghastly fellow in 1928's
The Man Who Laughs). Shortly after Dr. Caligari arrives in town, people end up getting murdered, including Francis' best friend. Since Caligari's servant predicted the death at a carnival show they visited the day before, Francis decides to investigate the duo and ultimately manages to uncover the truth behind the murders. Or does he?
What I like about this film is that the grotesque sets aren't just window dressing. It might not be immediately apparent, but there's a deeper meaning behind the nightmarish look of Holstenwall, the village where the story takes place. To tell more would be to give away the big twist, and that happens to be exactly what I'm going to do right now, so stop reading this instant if you don't want to read spoilers to a hundred-year-old film.
Basically, the whole story turns out to be a figment of the protagonist's imagination. This might feel like a cop-out to certain viewers, but I think the quality of
The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari is elevated by its ending. You see, Francis is revealed to be a patient of an insane asylum, and most of the characters featured in his flashback are also committed there. And what about Dr. Caligari? Well, he's the asylum director!
What makes this ending work, is that it puts the aforementioned bizarre sets in a new perspective. Instead of simply being an odd stylistic choice, this wretched hellscape is what the world looks like through the eyes of a madman. And to me, that thought is a lot scarier than any ghost, alien or axe murderer could ever be.
Touch of Evil
Narcotics Officer Mike Vargas (Charlton Heston) and his newlywed wife Susie (Janet Leigh) are enjoying a late-night stroll through a Mexican border town, when suddenly a car bomb goes off, instantly killing a wealthy businessman and his mistress. While the car exploded on US territory, the bomb was planted in Mexico, prompting Vargas to join the investigation. In his quest to uncover the truth, he not only has to deal with intimidation from members of a mobster family, but also with corruption of his colleagues from across the border.
Touch of Evil is seen as one of the last 'classic' film noirs. How does it hold up?
Let's start with the bad: Dennis Weaver's role as the jumpy night manager of a seedy motel is tonally out of place and would feel more at home in a screwball comedy. Thankfully, it's only a small part.
More egregious is Charles Heston's role. Heston as a Mexican is about as convincing as, say, Schwarzenegger as a ballerina. It's jarring, unpleasant to look at and a constant source of unintentional humour.
Now that we've got that out of the way, let's take a look at all the positive aspects of
Touch of Evil. Luckily, there's a lot of them!
First of all, the story deftly subverts expectations. It starts off like a whodunnit, but tracking down the killer gradually takes a back seat as the focus shifts to a more personal tale of corruption, ultimately making police captain Hank Quinlan (a great role by an almost unrecognizable Orson Welles) the main antagonist of the film.
Another commendable feat is that the film never becomes stale, even though the 1998 cut of
Touch of Evil (which is the version I've seen) is nearly two hours long. This is partly due to the brisk-paced story adeptly putting the spotlight on a multitude of characters, locations and situations (e.g. Vargas' investigation into Quinlan, Susie being tormented by the mobster family, Quinlan's descent into madness, etc.), but the wonderful cinematography is also a significant factor.
Which brings me to another highlight: the breathtaking opening tracking shot. Sixty years on, it still looks phenomenal!
Even though Heston is woefully miscast,
Touch of Evil remains a worthy conclusion of the classic form of the genre and is recommended viewing for film noir fans.
Here's a few favourites I have yet to write reviews for: The Asphalt Jungle, Sunset Boulevard, White Heat, The Third Man, The Killing, North By Northwest, Rope, Dial M for Murder, Suspicion, In A Lonely Place, Out of the Past, Anatomy of a Murder, 12 Angry Men, Ministry of Fear, Laura.
