TOUCH OF EVIL

Continuing on the theme of classic Film Noir, here is a film which, for its time, pushed the boundaries of the Noir style to places that only Orson Welles would think of. Its setting is exotic and its characters break from the typical Noir formula, but "Touch of Evil" deserves a place among the most technically audacious, and effectively dazzling films not only within its own genre, but in all of film.

When "Touch of Evil" was brought to the screen by the legendary Orson Welles in 1958, cinema was nearing the end of the classical Film Noir period. While subject matter in popular film began to become more eclectic and color films became the norm, hard-boiled Film Noir of the 1940s and 1950s took a back seat. However, if one wishes to call "Touch of Evil" the "last classical Film Noir", then the style did not go quietly. Known for its daring camera work and telling angles, classical Noir was always visually far removed from the films of classic Hollywood. In "Touch of Evil", Welles and cinematographer Russell Metty achieve a lively, fluid, and unparalleled visual experience.

Welles' equally innovative "Citizen Kane" is often cited as a picture which played a great part in the inception of Film Noir. Therefore, it is fitting that, as a director, Welles mastered Noir itself, nearly 20 years after "Citizen Kane". "Touch of Evil" builds on the low and high angle shots of "Citizen Kane", used to establish power or to change a character's perceived stature. In scenes like the introduction of Welles' own police captain Hank Quinlan, a low angle is used to establish a position of dominance and a foreboding persona. Additionally, shadows are used extensively in the film to compliment the dark motives in the story, and swift, choppy editing brilliantly portrays paranoia and unrest in Janet Leigh's Susan Vargas. But, undoubtedly, the picture's most visually striking moments come in the long, tracking, unbroken shots which make their way through crowded streets and into and out of buildings. Upon my first viewing, the opening scene of the film, which tracks a doomed vehicle and the newlywed protagonists through a busy downtown area for over three minutes, quickly emerged as one of the most technically impressive things I have ever seen on a screen. In this moment, the camera feels alive, and the audience is made aware that seeing this film may actually be paramount to digesting this story. In "Touch of Evil" Orson Welles reminds viewers that he is something of a cinematic mastermind, and the first five to ten minutes alone are enough to convince us.

However, for all of its marvelous visual display, there is certainly room for gripes with this film. The casting of Charlton Heston in the role of Mexican Police Officer Mike Vargas is a well noted eyebrow-raiser in the history of film. As one of the picture's central characters, his acting is satisfactory, and we understand the need for star power in major studio films. But at certain moments, viewers may feel like justifying his presence in the role takes a great deal of suspending disbelief. The plot at the center of "Touch of Evil", involving Janet Leigh as a distressed, helpless newlywed and corrupt, border-town police work by Orson Welles' Hank Quinlan, can be a bit of a maze. Elements involving a crime syndicate, kidnappings, and dirty law enforcement become tangled in a way that leaves certain questions unanswered. However, the aforementioned artistic excellence of the film makes up for any weaknesses or dry moments in the story.

Famously, several of Welles' films which are now considered to be classics were not overwhelming financial or critical successes during the 20th century. While the theatrical, studio edited version of "Touch of Evil" was somewhat different from Welles' original vision, the film certainly falls into this list. Perhaps the reason for this is that Welles was simply too many years ahead of the cinematic world around him. Nonetheless, he is rightfully looked upon today as one of the giants of film history, and the artful breakthroughs of "Touch of Evil" are a key reason why.

RATING: 7.9/10

DOUBLE INDEMNITY

Billy Wilder's 1944 classic, "Double Indemnity", is considered by many to be the quintessence Film Noir. With its low-lit city setting and circularly structured narrative, it makes use of stylistic elements which are characteristic of the movement. I myself would have to think long and hard to decide between this film and "The Third Man" to decide which is truly the ultimate example of Noir, but nonetheless "Double Indemnity" gives viewers plenty of insight into why this style of filmmaking is one of the most beloved and replicated in the history of cinema.

To observe what is perhaps the strongest example of Noir style in the film, one needs only to look deeply into the picture's two major characters and the roles that they play in the conspiracy at hand. Fred MacMurray's Walter Neff is an archetypal Film Noir protagonist. From the moment viewers are introduced to him, he is conflicted, stressed, and clearly ill-equipped to handle whatever circumstances the film is yet to reveal to its audience. As Neff works through his detailed, outright confession in the form of an office memo to his employer Barton Keyes, the motives for his involvement in the elaborate murder of the wealthy Mr. Diethrichson are unveiled.  His statement, "I killed him for money, and a woman, and I didn't get the money and I didn't get the woman", reveals what is true of many male protagonists in Film Noir; the shallow temptations of greed and lust have led him to a complete moral crumbling. Neff is a prime example of the way many men of 1930s, 1940s, and 1950s were shown in films like these as easily manipulated and dishonestly motivated.

Equally important, in her last lines of dialogue, Phyllis Dietrichson divulges the reality of her character to Walter Neff, telling him, "No, I never loved you, Walter, not you or anybody else. I'm rotten to the heart. I used you just as you said. That's all you ever meant to me." Just as Neff is a prime example of men in Film Noir, Phyllis embodies the genre's classic "femme fatale" role. As beautiful as she is deceitful, it is her allure that leads to all of the sexual tensions and eventual irredeemable actions committed by the characters. Like many films of the 1940s and 1950s, she seems to warn viewers of an untrustworthy nature of beautiful women like her.

Even the supporting figures in the film are essentially stock characters which are often seen in Noir films. Barton Keyes is the familiar high-ranking, straight talking, cigar smoking businessman, and Lola Dietrichson is a young, naïve, out-of-element beauty. While we often see characters like these in older crime and mystery films, and truthfully none of the performances in "Double Indemnity" rank among history's greatest acting jobs, the way that these characters are presented seems to transport the audience to the old world for the 30's and 40's for the duration of the film.

While there are many beliefs about what spurred the Film Noir movement, such as the tensions of the Post-War world and increasing European influence in American culture during the time, "Double Indemnity" is more a study of character than anything else. Walter Neff and Phyllis Dietrichson are equally pathetic and equally subjugated by their respective temptations. Neither of the film's main characters is a hero, and as I see it, they are both bored, trapped individuals who turn to elaborate crime to spice up their daily lives. They treat the murder case as a sort of game, which often shrouds the fact that its a brutal, violent, psychopathic deed that they take part in. We are not meant to feel sorry for either of them.

Of course, being a seminal piece of Film Noir, the movie is riddled with smoky, low lit rooms, foreboding city jazz, and weighty, symbolic camera angles. Billy Wilder succeeds in combining these elements of undeniable filmmaking charm with a story nearly as fascinating as its visuals. It is a testament to the daring beauty of Film Noir and its pioneers that "Double Indemnity" remains a universally admired masterpiece.

RATING: 8.1/10