Over the years as a reviewer, I’ve scribbled down a great many words about why it’s so very important for any film’s central story to make perfect sense.
Of course, there are a great many pieces that have to come together in order for this to be the inevitable result. There needs to be a solid introduction, both to the world and its circumstances as well as the key players. Every event that transpires should feel natural and organic to the stated premise or theme; while a twist and turn here or there can debatably help in keeping audiences primed and listening, too much of such trickery can easily derail the procedure and leave even casual viewers scratching their heads over what went down. Lastly, it should go without saying – but I’ll say it anyone – that construction needs to be headed by an inventive director who has been great effort into insuring that each and every segment weaves effortlessly with those before and after; and he (or she) should be a steward of delivering something that’s worth watching because – let’s face it – ninety-minutes (or whatever the running time) can never be recovered. No one likes to end on a sour note; reputations can be made or lost in a single outing, so it’s important that everyone involved ‘get it right’ the first time. Otherwise, what’s the point?
That said, Kansas City Confidential (1952) has always been that exception to the rule for me. So very much has been said about the flick – a great many who know vastly better than I claim it to be one of the best crime and/or Film Noirs ever committed to the medium – and I’ve read an awful lot of it not so much because I wanted to but more so as I’ve tried to come to grips with what I might be missing from my time spent with its subtle charms. If that sounds as though I’m disappointed with director Phil Karlson’s picture, then nothing could be further from the truth: in fact, I grow fonder of it each time I see it. My confusion results from the fact that – as I stated above – films need to function seamlessly in order to achieve results; and – in my humble opinion – this one just doesn’t. It’s one of those kinda/sorta silly set-ups that surpasses its weaknesses almost as if they were never really there. For the life of me, I can’t quite figure out how or why; and I’ll likely go to my grave perplexed over why I enjoy its curious highs and lows as much as I do.
Of course, there are a great many pieces that have to come together in order for this to be the inevitable result. There needs to be a solid introduction, both to the world and its circumstances as well as the key players. Every event that transpires should feel natural and organic to the stated premise or theme; while a twist and turn here or there can debatably help in keeping audiences primed and listening, too much of such trickery can easily derail the procedure and leave even casual viewers scratching their heads over what went down. Lastly, it should go without saying – but I’ll say it anyone – that construction needs to be headed by an inventive director who has been great effort into insuring that each and every segment weaves effortlessly with those before and after; and he (or she) should be a steward of delivering something that’s worth watching because – let’s face it – ninety-minutes (or whatever the running time) can never be recovered. No one likes to end on a sour note; reputations can be made or lost in a single outing, so it’s important that everyone involved ‘get it right’ the first time. Otherwise, what’s the point?
That said, Kansas City Confidential (1952) has always been that exception to the rule for me. So very much has been said about the flick – a great many who know vastly better than I claim it to be one of the best crime and/or Film Noirs ever committed to the medium – and I’ve read an awful lot of it not so much because I wanted to but more so as I’ve tried to come to grips with what I might be missing from my time spent with its subtle charms. If that sounds as though I’m disappointed with director Phil Karlson’s picture, then nothing could be further from the truth: in fact, I grow fonder of it each time I see it. My confusion results from the fact that – as I stated above – films need to function seamlessly in order to achieve results; and – in my humble opinion – this one just doesn’t. It’s one of those kinda/sorta silly set-ups that surpasses its weaknesses almost as if they were never really there. For the life of me, I can’t quite figure out how or why; and I’ll likely go to my grave perplexed over why I enjoy its curious highs and lows as much as I do.
(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 ex-con trying to go straight is framed for a million-dollar armored car robbery and must go to Mexico in order to unmask the real culprits.”
Confidential opens with Tim Foster (played by Preston Foster) scoping out what looks to be his next big heist from the quiet comfort of a hotel bedroom window. Across the street, there’s this savings and loan located next to a florist shop; and the mastermind is timing these businesses respective openings and delivery schedules down to the minute. In a curious stroke of luck, both just happen to have trucks parked out in front at the same time, giving Foster the inspiration that he can use one vehicle as a distraction for his inevitable getaway. You see, he wants to rob the bank of a cool $1.2 million; and he figures he can finger the florist’s delivery man as a potential patsy in the process. Now all he needs is a crew to pull off the job; and the next few scenes show he’s not without a handful of cronies who want in on the gig.
Still, the genius of Confidential is Foster isn’t who the audience is led to believe he is. In point of fact – something watchers don’t learn until the second half of the picture – he’s a former police chief who left his role in disgrace because the wheels of justice don’t always turn freely. Sometimes, the system creates victims out of even the do-gooders, forcing them to walk away from protecting and serving as a consequence of one ill-timed decision; and this former LEO is harboring a grudge, one which has him taking the law into his own hands to turn the tables on the murderers, thieves, and rapists he couldn’t quite capture because wearing the badge kept him from doing things differently. In the process, Foster hopes to gain the reward money, a hefty chunk of change totaling $300K that’ll replace the retirement funds he lost by being forced into unemployment.
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“An ex-con trying to go straight is framed for a million-dollar armored car robbery and must go to Mexico in order to unmask the real culprits.”
Confidential opens with Tim Foster (played by Preston Foster) scoping out what looks to be his next big heist from the quiet comfort of a hotel bedroom window. Across the street, there’s this savings and loan located next to a florist shop; and the mastermind is timing these businesses respective openings and delivery schedules down to the minute. In a curious stroke of luck, both just happen to have trucks parked out in front at the same time, giving Foster the inspiration that he can use one vehicle as a distraction for his inevitable getaway. You see, he wants to rob the bank of a cool $1.2 million; and he figures he can finger the florist’s delivery man as a potential patsy in the process. Now all he needs is a crew to pull off the job; and the next few scenes show he’s not without a handful of cronies who want in on the gig.
Still, the genius of Confidential is Foster isn’t who the audience is led to believe he is. In point of fact – something watchers don’t learn until the second half of the picture – he’s a former police chief who left his role in disgrace because the wheels of justice don’t always turn freely. Sometimes, the system creates victims out of even the do-gooders, forcing them to walk away from protecting and serving as a consequence of one ill-timed decision; and this former LEO is harboring a grudge, one which has him taking the law into his own hands to turn the tables on the murderers, thieves, and rapists he couldn’t quite capture because wearing the badge kept him from doing things differently. In the process, Foster hopes to gain the reward money, a hefty chunk of change totaling $300K that’ll replace the retirement funds he lost by being forced into unemployment.
It’s exactly this type of narrative twist that – in lesser occasions – spoils an otherwise good crime thriller, but the script attributed to Karlson alongside John Payne, Rowland Brown, Harold Greene, Harry Essex, and George Bruce works uncharacteristically well by playing its cards close to its chest from start-to-finish. Somehow, all involved manage to keep a kinda/sorta silly conceit like requiring all of the criminals to wear a mask when they’re together – making it impossible to identify one another if they’re captured by authorities – work as well as it does. Only Foster – the ‘big man,’ as he’s dubbed here – knows all of their faces; and he even concocts a rather elaborate scheme to lure his ‘cohorts’ out of the country to split up their shares of the bank job at a later date.
What Foster doesn’t foresee, however, is the fact that the floral delivery guy they set up as a patsy to take the fall – Joe Rolfe (John Payne) – is himself a former convict who isn’t about to go quietly into the night now that his life and career have been derailed from being briefly branded as returning to a life of crime. Instead, Rolfe decides to take matters into his own hands, to hunt down the guilty parties, and presumably make them pay for him being played as a pawn in their criminal affair. Yet, the truth is to Rolfe’s character is that – as a decorated soldier – he’s not so much a heavy as we’re initially led to believe: as it turns out, even Foster takes a shine to the man, more so once it turns out that his daughter Helen (Coleen Gray) is smitten with the big lunkhead.
Now, there’s a lot more to Confidential than what I’ve laid down. In fact, there’s a great deal more: it’s a surprisingly serpentine plot which sticks reasonably well to its central premise despite the fact that identities keep getting slightly redefined along the way. No one – and nothing – is exactly what it seems in the first half; and the second turns the yarn into a kinda/sorta ‘locked box’ thriller wherein the baddies – along with Helen – find themselves at a ‘south of the border’ resort waiting to divvy up the bank haul and head their separate ways. But Foster – always the mastermind – hasn’t quite thought things through perfectly: though he loses his own life in the closing scenes, he goes to his grave with full knowledge that he’s left his daughter in the right hands – Rolfe’s – after all.
To my utter astonishment, every twist works. It ain’t perfect. There are a few sequences involving thugs Boyd Kane (Neville Brand) and Tony Romano (Lee Van Cleef) that only work because of a convenient and mildly contrived development; and yet even with these minor misfires director Karlson keeps everything humming efficiently through moments big and small. Veteran character actor Jack Elam figures prominently into the film’s first half: his career grifter Pete Harris doesn’t seem long for this world – nor does he make it to the big finish except with his identity stolen (by Rolfe) – and Elam works some serious magic in only the handful of scenes he’s given.
What Foster doesn’t foresee, however, is the fact that the floral delivery guy they set up as a patsy to take the fall – Joe Rolfe (John Payne) – is himself a former convict who isn’t about to go quietly into the night now that his life and career have been derailed from being briefly branded as returning to a life of crime. Instead, Rolfe decides to take matters into his own hands, to hunt down the guilty parties, and presumably make them pay for him being played as a pawn in their criminal affair. Yet, the truth is to Rolfe’s character is that – as a decorated soldier – he’s not so much a heavy as we’re initially led to believe: as it turns out, even Foster takes a shine to the man, more so once it turns out that his daughter Helen (Coleen Gray) is smitten with the big lunkhead.
Now, there’s a lot more to Confidential than what I’ve laid down. In fact, there’s a great deal more: it’s a surprisingly serpentine plot which sticks reasonably well to its central premise despite the fact that identities keep getting slightly redefined along the way. No one – and nothing – is exactly what it seems in the first half; and the second turns the yarn into a kinda/sorta ‘locked box’ thriller wherein the baddies – along with Helen – find themselves at a ‘south of the border’ resort waiting to divvy up the bank haul and head their separate ways. But Foster – always the mastermind – hasn’t quite thought things through perfectly: though he loses his own life in the closing scenes, he goes to his grave with full knowledge that he’s left his daughter in the right hands – Rolfe’s – after all.
To my utter astonishment, every twist works. It ain’t perfect. There are a few sequences involving thugs Boyd Kane (Neville Brand) and Tony Romano (Lee Van Cleef) that only work because of a convenient and mildly contrived development; and yet even with these minor misfires director Karlson keeps everything humming efficiently through moments big and small. Veteran character actor Jack Elam figures prominently into the film’s first half: his career grifter Pete Harris doesn’t seem long for this world – nor does he make it to the big finish except with his identity stolen (by Rolfe) – and Elam works some serious magic in only the handful of scenes he’s given.
What’s surprising missing from Confidential – especially noteworthy given the fact that so many revere it as one of the screen’s best film noirs – is a true femme fatale, that shadowy manipulator of the fairer sex who’ll stop at nothing to see that she’s given only life’s best treasures. Helen is presented as about as pure as wind-driven snow – a bit over-the-top, if one insists – even crafted as budding law student who is on the cusp of passing the bar for her lawyer’s license. The closest viewers get to a legitimate temptress is the resort’s resident merchant Teresa (the lovely Dona Drake), a decidedly good-looking sport who uses her sexiness more to sell perfume than anything else. While a femme fatale would’ve been nice, there truly was no room for anyone else to be pulling the strings in this whole affair, so perhaps it’s best to leave this one all to the boys. There’s clearly no shortage of testosterone.
Kansas City Confidential (1952) was produced by Associated Players & Producers. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Film Masters. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert – and I’ve read that the picture is in public domain – I can assure readers that this looks and sounds probably about as good as it’s ever going to get. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? The disc boasts a commentary track by author and critic Jason A. Ney; and – for what it’s worth – it’s good … maybe a bit more academic than most, but that’s not a bad thing. There’s also a collector’s booklet with linear notes by Don Stradley.
Strongly Recommended.
The thing that’s always surprised me about Kansas City Confidential (1952) – which I’ve seen several times – is that it both does and doesn’t follow a great many of the typical Film Noir requirements and yet still works like a charm for those of us who like this sort of thing. The story’s central point-of-view shifts more than once – at one point begging into question just who’s story is it anyway – but come the big finish everything that needed to take place in order to tie everything together works damn near perfection. Greatness aside, it’s easy to quibble with some of the fine points – no believable female role, some of the hard-boiled dialogue feels a bit campy, not even the cops seem to suffer any ill consequences of their actions, etc. – but there’s no denying the fact the resulting film is that rare gem that congeals exactly the way it should.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Film Masters (via Allied Vaughn) provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Kansas City Confidential (1952) 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
Kansas City Confidential (1952) was produced by Associated Players & Producers. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Film Masters. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert – and I’ve read that the picture is in public domain – I can assure readers that this looks and sounds probably about as good as it’s ever going to get. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? The disc boasts a commentary track by author and critic Jason A. Ney; and – for what it’s worth – it’s good … maybe a bit more academic than most, but that’s not a bad thing. There’s also a collector’s booklet with linear notes by Don Stradley.
Strongly Recommended.
The thing that’s always surprised me about Kansas City Confidential (1952) – which I’ve seen several times – is that it both does and doesn’t follow a great many of the typical Film Noir requirements and yet still works like a charm for those of us who like this sort of thing. The story’s central point-of-view shifts more than once – at one point begging into question just who’s story is it anyway – but come the big finish everything that needed to take place in order to tie everything together works damn near perfection. Greatness aside, it’s easy to quibble with some of the fine points – no believable female role, some of the hard-boiled dialogue feels a bit campy, not even the cops seem to suffer any ill consequences of their actions, etc. – but there’s no denying the fact the resulting film is that rare gem that congeals exactly the way it should.
In the interests of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Film Masters (via Allied Vaughn) provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Kansas City Confidential (1952) 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
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