Think what you may, readers, but the movie industry has always been evolving.
Why, back in the day, it wasn’t uncommon for studios to outright own their own theater chains. While I won’t get into the particulars about just how and why all of that changed (honestly, there are bits and pieces of it I still don’t quite understand), the central point is that this gave the true industry movers and shakers the opportunity to directly exhibit their finest (and not so finest wares) to the viewing public. Among the many things that this had studios doing was often pairing what they deemed an A-List feature along with a B-Movie, the lesser usually being a work considered as a bit of a theatrical throwaway to a double feature. It’s true that these flicks generally cost far less than the A choice, and it’s equally true that – ahem – perhaps not nearly as much spit, polish, and effort went into bringing the story to life.
What I’m constantly surprised about after my years of watching older flicks is how many of them long thought to be B-Movies are actually some really damn fine quality entertainments. Though I’ve not been able to confirm that 1948’s Act Of Violence was, in fact, a B-Movie (I’ve both read and heard it was), I’m at a loss as to why any studio could possibly have determined this one should be little more than an attached secondary bit of escapism for interested patrons. It may not boast the biggest character study of note for its era – nor does it house any singular performance from any of its familiar faces; and yet it’s still about as compelling as any Noir-tinged Drama I’ve had the good fortune to discover.
Thankfully, the good people at Warner Archive were kind enough to provide me a copy; and I’m thrilled to shed a bit of light on its many shadows today.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“An embittered, vengeful POW stalks his former commanding officer who betrayed his men's planned escape attempt from a Nazi prison camp.”
I’ve mentioned before that – while I have a great love for authentic Film Noirs – I haven’t always agreed with the conventional definition of what makes an entry considered a story in this sub-genre.
For example, a film professor of mine back in the 1980’s pretty much had the whole class convinced that true Film Noirs were those features produced in the post World War II studio system (for about a decade or so) that explored the dark side of human foibles. Over time – and from reasonably extensive reading on my own – I had to adjust that definition slightly as I found that the flawed characters of these productions were more the central focus than were their traits; and I’ve pretty much accepted that qualifier as reasonable. The point here is that these films tend to be heavily preoccupied with whatever menace exists between the credits, and the directors and storytellers used some very specific stylistic choices to weave their visual spells.
Why, back in the day, it wasn’t uncommon for studios to outright own their own theater chains. While I won’t get into the particulars about just how and why all of that changed (honestly, there are bits and pieces of it I still don’t quite understand), the central point is that this gave the true industry movers and shakers the opportunity to directly exhibit their finest (and not so finest wares) to the viewing public. Among the many things that this had studios doing was often pairing what they deemed an A-List feature along with a B-Movie, the lesser usually being a work considered as a bit of a theatrical throwaway to a double feature. It’s true that these flicks generally cost far less than the A choice, and it’s equally true that – ahem – perhaps not nearly as much spit, polish, and effort went into bringing the story to life.
What I’m constantly surprised about after my years of watching older flicks is how many of them long thought to be B-Movies are actually some really damn fine quality entertainments. Though I’ve not been able to confirm that 1948’s Act Of Violence was, in fact, a B-Movie (I’ve both read and heard it was), I’m at a loss as to why any studio could possibly have determined this one should be little more than an attached secondary bit of escapism for interested patrons. It may not boast the biggest character study of note for its era – nor does it house any singular performance from any of its familiar faces; and yet it’s still about as compelling as any Noir-tinged Drama I’ve had the good fortune to discover.
Thankfully, the good people at Warner Archive were kind enough to provide me a copy; and I’m thrilled to shed a bit of light on its many shadows today.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“An embittered, vengeful POW stalks his former commanding officer who betrayed his men's planned escape attempt from a Nazi prison camp.”
I’ve mentioned before that – while I have a great love for authentic Film Noirs – I haven’t always agreed with the conventional definition of what makes an entry considered a story in this sub-genre.
For example, a film professor of mine back in the 1980’s pretty much had the whole class convinced that true Film Noirs were those features produced in the post World War II studio system (for about a decade or so) that explored the dark side of human foibles. Over time – and from reasonably extensive reading on my own – I had to adjust that definition slightly as I found that the flawed characters of these productions were more the central focus than were their traits; and I’ve pretty much accepted that qualifier as reasonable. The point here is that these films tend to be heavily preoccupied with whatever menace exists between the credits, and the directors and storytellers used some very specific stylistic choices to weave their visual spells.
More often than not, the men and women given life in these flicks have some sizable flaws that they’ve gone to great lengths to conceal; and such is the case for Frank Enley (played by Van Helfin). This small-town superstar is the kind of bigger-than-life personae that has made him so beloved by the locals: he’s kind and giving, he’s always been of service to the community, and he even served his country to some acclaim in World War II. However, Enley has been hiding a secret for quite some time, and it’s one so big that he’s never even confided in his loving wife Edith (Janet Leigh). It would seem that rather than behave heroically when coming face-to-face with the Axis soldiers, he actually somewhat collaborated with them, ratting out some fellow prisoners-of-war who were on the cusp of their own ‘great escape.’ In the process, nearly every other captured soldier was killed with the exception of Joe Parkson (Robert Ryan).
Well … guess who just showed up in town to pay the good citizen Enley a visit?
And … guess what Parkson has in mind?
In case you’re confused, then let me be clear: Parkson wants revenge for both his injuries and the lives lost because of Enley’s duplicity.
Consequently, Act Of Violence unfolds about as uniquely as any game of cat-and-mouse that’s been conceived. Though Enley seems to always be one step ahead – more out of circumstance than anything else – he eventually learns that Parkson is on his trail. This forces the good Samaritan to kinda/sorta ‘take it on the lam,’ using the backdrop of a nearby contractors’ convention to disappear into the crowds for protection. Still, Parkson remains persistent, and he inevitably holes up in the convention center’s hotel, knowing that it’s only a matter of time before the two of them will stumble across one another wherein justice will be served.
Director Fred Zinnemann makes fabulous use of his background in documentary filmmaking, largely capturing a good deal of Violence with an almost casual, plot-by-number approach. Though he goes to great lengths to frame scenes via lighting and positions, there’s still a basic workmanship approach to all of this that never gives way to anything that’s overtly or intrusively stylistic. Additionally, he makes exceptional use of some exterior photography, practically dragging Enley, Parkson, and the audience from the happy luster of small-town existence to the grim, cold streets and alleys of the big, unforgiving city. The finale breaks the mold just a bit – the director stages the inevitable climax similar to a Wild West showdown (of sorts) where you can even hear the wind-blowing in the background – but, otherwise, the picture remains firmly grounded in reality but with the proper thematic shadows bringing noir to life.
Heflin does a great job managing the highs and lower-lower-lowest lows of his character’s existence. Once his train is off the narrative track, it’s easy to see the struggle slowly wearing him down with each successive development. Ryan – always a solid talent – is particularly expressive in several scenes wherein he’s battling the conflict of dispensing justice though conflicted over playing the vigilante. He wants to do what he feels is right, even at the expense of his mortal soul, and this doesn’t exactly come easy once he’s confronted by his gal-pal, Ann (Phyllis Thaxter), who has chased him across the country in hopes of stopping him from committing what she sees as cold-blooded murder. But – as a soldier – he refuses to allow any code of conduct to be forced upon him, making it resoundingly clear that not everyone is going to get out of this one alive.
Well … guess who just showed up in town to pay the good citizen Enley a visit?
And … guess what Parkson has in mind?
In case you’re confused, then let me be clear: Parkson wants revenge for both his injuries and the lives lost because of Enley’s duplicity.
Consequently, Act Of Violence unfolds about as uniquely as any game of cat-and-mouse that’s been conceived. Though Enley seems to always be one step ahead – more out of circumstance than anything else – he eventually learns that Parkson is on his trail. This forces the good Samaritan to kinda/sorta ‘take it on the lam,’ using the backdrop of a nearby contractors’ convention to disappear into the crowds for protection. Still, Parkson remains persistent, and he inevitably holes up in the convention center’s hotel, knowing that it’s only a matter of time before the two of them will stumble across one another wherein justice will be served.
Director Fred Zinnemann makes fabulous use of his background in documentary filmmaking, largely capturing a good deal of Violence with an almost casual, plot-by-number approach. Though he goes to great lengths to frame scenes via lighting and positions, there’s still a basic workmanship approach to all of this that never gives way to anything that’s overtly or intrusively stylistic. Additionally, he makes exceptional use of some exterior photography, practically dragging Enley, Parkson, and the audience from the happy luster of small-town existence to the grim, cold streets and alleys of the big, unforgiving city. The finale breaks the mold just a bit – the director stages the inevitable climax similar to a Wild West showdown (of sorts) where you can even hear the wind-blowing in the background – but, otherwise, the picture remains firmly grounded in reality but with the proper thematic shadows bringing noir to life.
Heflin does a great job managing the highs and lower-lower-lowest lows of his character’s existence. Once his train is off the narrative track, it’s easy to see the struggle slowly wearing him down with each successive development. Ryan – always a solid talent – is particularly expressive in several scenes wherein he’s battling the conflict of dispensing justice though conflicted over playing the vigilante. He wants to do what he feels is right, even at the expense of his mortal soul, and this doesn’t exactly come easy once he’s confronted by his gal-pal, Ann (Phyllis Thaxter), who has chased him across the country in hopes of stopping him from committing what she sees as cold-blooded murder. But – as a soldier – he refuses to allow any code of conduct to be forced upon him, making it resoundingly clear that not everyone is going to get out of this one alive.
Another great surprise in Violence is the casting of Mary Astor (1941’s The Maltese Falcon) as a somewhat streetwise confidante Pat who takes Enley under her wing when she finds him lost in the nightlife of the big city. Though some might suggest Pat saw giving aid and comfort to this lost soul as a means to a financial end (and, yes, she does inevitable ask for money), I see that really only as a passable complaint: with the dollar amount that gets thrown around to have this matter fixed (by a greasy street attorney and his thug enforcer), Pat’s request for nothing more than $100 for her time and trouble seems forgivable. After all, she gave the man a place to hide out for a short while – along with her platonic company – and maybe she deserved something in exchange for such trouble. She even kept watch while he was sleeping, so I’m inclined to give her a pass on any condemnation … for what that’s worth.
But for the film’s running time of just over 80 minutes, Act Of Violence is frightfully entertaining. It’s the kind of picture I love stumbling into with very little foreknowledge of, allowing me to experience it perhaps like audiences did back in the day. It’s a lean and mean machine – one that’s well worth the time – and it shows what can be accomplished when stars – both in the heavens and Hollywood – align for the best possible circumstances.
Act Of Violence (1948) was produced by Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Warner Archive. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I found the provided sights-and-sounds to be exceptional from start-to-finish. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? The disc boasts a brief featurette along with the usual theatrical trailer and some cartoons of the era. There’s also a pretty spiffy audio commentary from Dr. Drew Casper: he vacillates between providing the usual facts and figures of traditional commentaries as well as provided a bit of a film lecture on what makes the flick so special (in certain sequences) and vivid in its character exploration. Actually, I found it great fun, even though he does get bogged down with said ‘facts’ a bit in spots. But as commentaries go this one is highly recommended.
Highly recommended.
Frankly, I’d stop short of proclaiming that Act Of Violence is one of my personal favorite noirs, but it definitely scores highly. There’s a lot of ideas visually explored here – underscoring character strength and weakness in depiction, mild social commentary on post-war society, maybe even some minor treatise on big city versus small town life – but none of it ever feels exhaustive or non-essential. It starts and ends as a very human story, one shattered when the darkest of possible secrets puts two men – once friends and fellow patriots – at odds with their respective morality. Sure, it’s a bit grim in spots, but there isn’t an ounce of fat in here at all. It’s an impressive discovery for those who venture into such dire straits. Redemption is possible, but it might just kill you in the process.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Warner Archive provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Act Of Violence (1948) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
But for the film’s running time of just over 80 minutes, Act Of Violence is frightfully entertaining. It’s the kind of picture I love stumbling into with very little foreknowledge of, allowing me to experience it perhaps like audiences did back in the day. It’s a lean and mean machine – one that’s well worth the time – and it shows what can be accomplished when stars – both in the heavens and Hollywood – align for the best possible circumstances.
Act Of Violence (1948) was produced by Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Warner Archive. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I found the provided sights-and-sounds to be exceptional from start-to-finish. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? The disc boasts a brief featurette along with the usual theatrical trailer and some cartoons of the era. There’s also a pretty spiffy audio commentary from Dr. Drew Casper: he vacillates between providing the usual facts and figures of traditional commentaries as well as provided a bit of a film lecture on what makes the flick so special (in certain sequences) and vivid in its character exploration. Actually, I found it great fun, even though he does get bogged down with said ‘facts’ a bit in spots. But as commentaries go this one is highly recommended.
Highly recommended.
Frankly, I’d stop short of proclaiming that Act Of Violence is one of my personal favorite noirs, but it definitely scores highly. There’s a lot of ideas visually explored here – underscoring character strength and weakness in depiction, mild social commentary on post-war society, maybe even some minor treatise on big city versus small town life – but none of it ever feels exhaustive or non-essential. It starts and ends as a very human story, one shattered when the darkest of possible secrets puts two men – once friends and fellow patriots – at odds with their respective morality. Sure, it’s a bit grim in spots, but there isn’t an ounce of fat in here at all. It’s an impressive discovery for those who venture into such dire straits. Redemption is possible, but it might just kill you in the process.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Warner Archive provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Act Of Violence (1948) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
RSS Feed