TSPDT placing: #23
Directed by: Carol Reed
Written by: Graham Greene (story, screenplay), Alexander Korda (story, uncredited), Carol Reed (uncredited)
Starring: Joseph Cotten, Alida Valli, Trevor Howard, Bernard Lee, Paul Hörbiger, Ernst Deutsch, Siegfried Breuer
WARNING: Plot and/or ending details may follow!!!
They call it film noir. But to do so would imply that the film adheres closely to the stylistic and thematic rules of its predecessors, when, put simply, there's never been anything quite like The Third Man (1949). Carol Reed's post-War masterpiece differs from traditional noir in that it is a distinctly British production, equipped with a wry, almost whimsical, sense of humour that places it alongside the Ealing films of the era, particularly Kind Hearts and Coronets (1949) and The Lavender Hill Mob (1951). Set in post-WWII Vienna, the film depicts a crumbling community of wretched thieves and black-market racketeers, effectively capturing the decadence and corruption of a city that has been brought to its knees. Instantly recognisable through Robert Krasker's harsh lighting and oblique, distorted cinematography, as well as Anton Karas' unique and unforgettable soundtrack – performed on a peculiar musical instrument called a zither – The Third Man is one of the most invigorating cinema experiences to which one may be treated.
Into the rubble-strewn ruins of Vienna comes an American pulp-novelist, Holly Martins (Joseph Cotten), who arrives, without a dime in his pocket, in search of an old friend named Harry Lime. However, upon his arrival, Martins is horrified to to learn of Lime's tragic death in a traffic accident. Unsatsified with the explanations he receives from the authorities and witnesses, he teams up with Lime's ex-girlfriend Anna Schmidt (Aldi Valli) to solve the mystery of his best friend's death. Was it an accident? Was it murder? Who was the "third man" who was seen carrying Lime to the roadside? Of course, as you and I both know, Martins' childhood friend, having faked his own death, is very much alive, and intent on keeping his continued existence quiet. The extraordinary moment, when Harry Lime's face is abruptly illuminated in a doorway, as a cat affectionately nuzzles his shoes, hardly comes as a surprise after fifty years, but the magic is very much still there.
Orson Welles' amused boyish smirk, wryly taunting Martins across the roadway, signals the entrance of one of cinema's most charismatic supporting characters. Despite being absent for the first half of the film, Lime's presence is felt throughout, his darkened shadow continually towering over Martins as he seeks to ascertain the actual cause of his friend's death. Lime is a perfect example of cinema's anti-hero, a vibrant, likable and identifiable personality who commits atrocities that should immediately warrant our detestation. Graham Greene's brisk and intelligent screenplay gives Lime all the best lines, particularly on the Ferris Wheel ride when he muses on the value of those inconsequential "little dots" walking below, though Welles himself takes credit for penning the celebrated "cuckoo clock" monologue; a rapidly-delivered acknowledgment of the creativity born from "warfare, terror, murder, and bloodshed." Though Welles justifiably receives a lot of the praise, every other cast member delivers a wonderful performance, particularly Cotten as the bemused and morally-conflicted foreigner, Valli as Lime's steadfast lifelong disciple, and Trevor Howard as the Major who very much wishes that Lime had remained underground.
Director Carol Reed famously clashed with producer David O. Selznick over various facets of the film's production, with Selznick insisting on pivotal casting decisions, and allegedly suggesting that the film be titled "Night Time in Vienna." However, in the case of the suitably downbeat ending, both producer and director saw eye-to-eye, and Greene's original optimistic conclusion (in which Holly and Anna reconcile) was shelved in favour of the wonderful static long-shot, in which Martins is completely ignored by the women whose trust he is perceived to have broken. The Third Man, perhaps as a result of these contradictory artistic influences, has acquired, like no other film I've seen, a distinct personality of its own. Karas' zither soundtrack, as though consciously flouting traditional noir conventions, adds an element of whimsy to the proceedings, and somehow complements perfectly the larger-than-life distortion of Krasker's photography, in which ordinary human shadows tower three storeys in height, and even the most commonplace of interactions takes on the warped dimensions of a drug-induced dream. In Vienna, the truth can be as elusive as a ghost.
10/10
Currently my #1 film of 1949:
1) The Third Man (Carol Reed)
2) Kind Hearts and Coronets (Robert Hamer)
3) A Run for Your Money (Charles Frend)
4) Nora inu {Stray Dog} (Akira Kurosawa)
5) She Wore a Yellow Ribbon (John Ford)
In the early period of his directing career, Lean collaborated with producer/writer Noel Coward on four occasions, and Brief Encounter is the result of their final partnership. The story was expanded from Coward's one-act place, "Still Life (1936)," and adapted by Anthony Havelock-Allan, Ronald Neame and Lean himself. In a refreshing change from most romantic pictures, Brief Encounter depicts love as a frustrating, tormenting and even violent emotion; though Laura is at first enchanted by her affection for the handsome Alec, the guilt caused by her disloyalty threatens to destroy her emotionally, and the bitter fact that her love is ultimately doomed leads her almost to suicide. Robert Krasker's cinematography is beautifully moody, often using locomotive smoke {multiple pivotal scenes take place at a train station} as an effective aesthetic device. Some have noted the film's apparent ties to the film noir genre, with Lean choosing to shoot much of the film in rain-slicked streets, dimly-lit interiors and unglamorous industrialised train stations; the film's conclusion notes the futility of love, and its tragic, detrimental effect on comfortable family relationships.
More than anything else, Brief Encounter is an exploration of family morality. There's no doubt that Laura loves her husband, but her life with him is so tedious and unstimulating that her weekly shopping journeys into London are all that keep her functioning. Laura's romantic liaison with Alec fills her with an unbridled joy, an emotion that so overwhelms her that it is not until hours later that the ethical implications of her actions finally strike home. The devastating moment when she first finds herself lying to her husband, a minor but all-important detail, is one of the film's most powerful moments, more so when Laura later muses: "It's awfully easy to lie when you know you're trusted implicitly." With its sympathetic attitude towards marital infidelity, a film such as Brief Encounter could never have been made in Hollywood. The Production Code {a.k.a. the Hays Code} strictly prohibited the portrayal of adulterous relationships that were "explicitly treated, or justified, or presented attractively." Nevertheless, the film was David Lean's greatest critical success to date, and his film was nominated for three Academy Awards {Best Actress, Best Director, Best Writing}, in addition to tying for the Grand Prize of the Cannes Film Festival.
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