Screenplay by Graham Greene; Story by Graham Greene (and Alexander Korda, uncredited); Directed by Carol Reed; Cinematography by Robert Krasker; Edited by Oswald Hafenrichter; Complete Credits. 104 min. 1949.
Before we begin, just a side note – which I should've mentioned at the end of last week's post – the British version of The Third Man runs 104 minutes and the US version is about ten minutes shorter because the sewer scene was cut down. It doesn't affect the meaning (i.e. we get different information), but the longer scene increases the suspense. On the negative side, in the British version Carol Reed does the opening voice-over instead of Joseph Cotten, which leaves you wondering who the heck is this guy doing the voice-over and what does he have to do with the film? But it's not really important - only a very minor gripe of mine.
While The Third Man is often cited as a film noir classic, I'm not going to relate much to its noir-ness. In fact, though the next couple of titles I'll be dealing with all qualify as film noir to a certain degree, I won’t be discussing film noir. Rather, I'm taking a break from the romantic-comedy extravaganza that's been going on for the past six weeks. I've been walking around fighting the urge to spontaneously burst into song about love, springtime, and cookies – and we can't have that, can we?
The Third Man is certainly an effective antidote. Set up as a kind of murder mystery, it's an examination of good and evil, and questions whether you can or should remain loyal to a person who has forsaken his or her humanity. Before I go on, I'd like to give a special warning: if you haven't seen the film, I am about to spoil it completely. You proceed at your own peril.
Vienna, post-WWII. The city – or what's left of it after the heavy bombing - is divided into four zones: American, French, British, and Russian. Teams of soldiers made up of members from all four powers patrol together to keep the peace. Basically, it's a diplomatic nightmare, especially since those pesky Russians are up to something.* The black market is flourishing and everyone looks depressed as hell. Enter Holly Martins (Joseph Cotten), an American who writes cheap novelettes, drinks too much, and hasn’t a cent to his name. He’s never been to Vienna (or Europe apparently), but Holly’s here to see his dear old friend Harry Lime, who’s offered him a job writing for a medical charity he’s running.
Seriously – I’m about to completely wreck this movie. You can still turn back and (hopefully) read this post after you’ve seen it.
Okay.
Holly rings the door to Harry’s apartment only to find out from the porter that his funeral is being held today. Poor Harry – hit by a car. Can you believe it?
You’ll have to excuse my sarcasm, but given that Harry is played by a very prominently billed Orson Welles, it’s difficult to believe he’s actually dead. I kept expecting him to show up, so when they eventually revealed that he’s not dead – and it’s way into the film – the surprise was non-existent. This movie has hardly any flaws at all, but the ones it has are pretty annoying. And it’s a damn shame because they took a lot of trouble not to show any pictures of Harry and avoid using flashbacks – but hey – it’s Orson Welles. He has to show up some time, ergo his character is alive and kicking. But I’m supposed to be talking about all of the good things – and there are too many to list.
Let’s start with Harry. Forget for a moment that he’s charming, funny, smart, and played by Orson Welles. The guy is a callous murderer. He made a profit – a big one - selling diluted penicillin to injured soldiers, women in childbirth, and sick children. And if all that’s not enough, he sells out Anna (Alida Valli), his former girlfriend (former only since he died, it’s not like they broke up), as a pledge of good faith to the Russians. But we like him anyway, we like him almost instantly – from that first smirk on his face until his final moments running from the police in the sewer. If we don’t like him, the movie doesn’t work. Anna refuses to sell him out to the international police even after knowing he sold her out to the Russians, and Holly, to the last, can hardly bear to do it. Watch the grim look on his face when finally he has to shoot Harry. None of that makes any sense if they don’t manage to convey Harry’s charisma, that once at least, he was a great guy, and somehow – blame the war, if you like – he’s gone bad, and what a tragedy that is.
On the other hand, take Maj. Calloway (Trevor Howard), heading the investigation of Harry’s gang of racketeers. His no-nonsense, upright - unmistakably British - attitude does not make him endearing at first sight. (Britons forgive me.) It takes a while to get the hang of him, to realize that he may not be cuddly, but he’s a good guy working in difficult conditions. Holly and Anna’s interaction with Calloway and their reminiscing about Harry, respectively condition us to dislike the one and like the other. This is similar to something I mentioned about Notorious where the bad guy, Alex, is sensitive and charming, you can hardly believe he’s a Nazi trying to restart the war, while Devlin, the hero, is abrasive. In Notorious, we watch Alex go crazy over Alicia’s betrayal, giving us an idea of what he’s really like, but with Harry in The Third Man, there’s no “crazy” turning point.
In the scene where he and Holly meet after Holly discovered he faked his death, we watch Harry exhibit a wide range of emotions: he’s glad to see Holly, he’s sorry about Anna, he’s flip, he’s serious, he’s philosophical, he’s trivial, he’s murderous, he’s merciful, he’s calculating – and dangerous, very dangerous. Everything is mixed up together – we seem to see the Harry Anna and Holly eulogized, but he’s submerged in a cold-hearted murderer. Similarly, Calloway doesn’t have a specific moment when his character shifts gears and suddenly becomes sympathetic. Even after we discover that he’s chasing Harry for good reason, he’s still the same man – we just understand his motivation better. So the film works backwards.
Holly is different because his character undergoes serious change within a matter of days. Harry and Calloway, while complex, remain who they were at the start of the film. Holly, the anti-hero who writes cheap westerns about sheriffs always getting their men, is forced to act heroically – and there’s nothing glamorous about it. Un-dashing and unromantic (though I really don’t think Joseph Cotten has to hide his face under a paper bag), he eventually does the right thing but feels pretty lousy anyway. Plus he doesn't get the girl as a reward, and who wants him to, really? – but I’ll get back to that. Anna has a point: Harry saved her, how can she do anything to hurt him? But with that good comes a lot of bad and Holly is the one who is forced to pull the trigger. There’s no conflict for Calloway – he’s just doing his job and he doesn’t owe Harry anything. To make it worse, Harry gives Holly that little nod - he’s already bleeding to death and will probably die in minutes anyway - but Harry seems to say, “Go ahead.”
As for Anna, my reading of her changes every time I watch the film. She manages to be both entirely sympathetic and incredibly infuriating. You want to shout at her that she’s totally delusional for remaining loyal to Harry though you can certainly see why she would be. When she snubs Holly, you completely get why she wouldn’t want to be with him, but you think she’s an idiot for not understanding that Holly’s the real hero, however uncharismatic or latent. It’s a sign that she’s a complex human rather than a convenient type: you can’t reduce her to a single label. She’s not quite a love-interest because she’s clearly not interested in Holly. She’s not a heroine or a villain – she acts as a catalyst and a blocker, alternately.
Since I've spoiled everything anyway, here are the final two minutes of the film, which, while undoubtedly heartbreaking, are also cathartic. (I specifically cited it as an example when I wrote about endings.) As mentioned, the final scene and image have a lot of impact. The setting is dismal: it’s a cemetery and it’s autumn. These scraggly leaves are falling from skinny trees. Anna walks by Holly without giving him so much as a glance. Holly lights his cigarette and throws away the match. And that’s it, movie over. Holly needs that extra moment to say goodbye, mentally, at least – and so do we, I think.
Notice that throughout the film, most of the camera angles are sharp diagonals or the shot compositions are off-kilter. Cumulatively, it’s very unsettling, and the final shot emphasizes this not only by being perfectly symmetrical but by lasting almost a full two minutes. The road stretches into the distance in a perfectly centered convergence point. A certain balance has been restored, maybe only temporarily and at a great price – and don’t ask me between what this balance was exactly – but the last sequence still spells equilibrium to me. (Open acknowledgement: my spelling is not always the best.)
I’ve rambled on longer than I planned. I didn’t even get to the excellent supporting characters: Sgt. Paine (Bernard Lee), Calloway’s assistant; Harry’s black market cronies, Baron Kurtz (Ernst Deutsch), Popescu (Siegfried Breuer), Dr. Winkel (Erich Ponto); and the porter (Paul Hörbiger).
Next week… The Big Sleep, because it’s time for some Bogart and Bacall.
*Admittedly, I wasn't in Vienna during the immediate post-war years, but I think one of the film's few flaws is that, given the Cold War tension, it's more than a tad anti-Russian. I'm not saying the Russians were angelic sugar-cookies, but the film clearly has an agenda. It gets particularly heavy-handed when a unit of the wonder patrol comes to officially arrest Anna – the American, French, and British soldiers are all pointedly kind to Anna, while the Russian is surly. Harry’s cooperation with the Russians is part of the story, so that’s all well and good, but this scene seems almost purely for the sake of going “boo hiss” at them.
Before we begin, just a side note – which I should've mentioned at the end of last week's post – the British version of The Third Man runs 104 minutes and the US version is about ten minutes shorter because the sewer scene was cut down. It doesn't affect the meaning (i.e. we get different information), but the longer scene increases the suspense. On the negative side, in the British version Carol Reed does the opening voice-over instead of Joseph Cotten, which leaves you wondering who the heck is this guy doing the voice-over and what does he have to do with the film? But it's not really important - only a very minor gripe of mine.
While The Third Man is often cited as a film noir classic, I'm not going to relate much to its noir-ness. In fact, though the next couple of titles I'll be dealing with all qualify as film noir to a certain degree, I won’t be discussing film noir. Rather, I'm taking a break from the romantic-comedy extravaganza that's been going on for the past six weeks. I've been walking around fighting the urge to spontaneously burst into song about love, springtime, and cookies – and we can't have that, can we?
The Third Man is certainly an effective antidote. Set up as a kind of murder mystery, it's an examination of good and evil, and questions whether you can or should remain loyal to a person who has forsaken his or her humanity. Before I go on, I'd like to give a special warning: if you haven't seen the film, I am about to spoil it completely. You proceed at your own peril.
Vienna, post-WWII. The city – or what's left of it after the heavy bombing - is divided into four zones: American, French, British, and Russian. Teams of soldiers made up of members from all four powers patrol together to keep the peace. Basically, it's a diplomatic nightmare, especially since those pesky Russians are up to something.* The black market is flourishing and everyone looks depressed as hell. Enter Holly Martins (Joseph Cotten), an American who writes cheap novelettes, drinks too much, and hasn’t a cent to his name. He’s never been to Vienna (or Europe apparently), but Holly’s here to see his dear old friend Harry Lime, who’s offered him a job writing for a medical charity he’s running.
Seriously – I’m about to completely wreck this movie. You can still turn back and (hopefully) read this post after you’ve seen it.
Okay.
Holly rings the door to Harry’s apartment only to find out from the porter that his funeral is being held today. Poor Harry – hit by a car. Can you believe it?
You’ll have to excuse my sarcasm, but given that Harry is played by a very prominently billed Orson Welles, it’s difficult to believe he’s actually dead. I kept expecting him to show up, so when they eventually revealed that he’s not dead – and it’s way into the film – the surprise was non-existent. This movie has hardly any flaws at all, but the ones it has are pretty annoying. And it’s a damn shame because they took a lot of trouble not to show any pictures of Harry and avoid using flashbacks – but hey – it’s Orson Welles. He has to show up some time, ergo his character is alive and kicking. But I’m supposed to be talking about all of the good things – and there are too many to list.
Let’s start with Harry. Forget for a moment that he’s charming, funny, smart, and played by Orson Welles. The guy is a callous murderer. He made a profit – a big one - selling diluted penicillin to injured soldiers, women in childbirth, and sick children. And if all that’s not enough, he sells out Anna (Alida Valli), his former girlfriend (former only since he died, it’s not like they broke up), as a pledge of good faith to the Russians. But we like him anyway, we like him almost instantly – from that first smirk on his face until his final moments running from the police in the sewer. If we don’t like him, the movie doesn’t work. Anna refuses to sell him out to the international police even after knowing he sold her out to the Russians, and Holly, to the last, can hardly bear to do it. Watch the grim look on his face when finally he has to shoot Harry. None of that makes any sense if they don’t manage to convey Harry’s charisma, that once at least, he was a great guy, and somehow – blame the war, if you like – he’s gone bad, and what a tragedy that is.
On the other hand, take Maj. Calloway (Trevor Howard), heading the investigation of Harry’s gang of racketeers. His no-nonsense, upright - unmistakably British - attitude does not make him endearing at first sight. (Britons forgive me.) It takes a while to get the hang of him, to realize that he may not be cuddly, but he’s a good guy working in difficult conditions. Holly and Anna’s interaction with Calloway and their reminiscing about Harry, respectively condition us to dislike the one and like the other. This is similar to something I mentioned about Notorious where the bad guy, Alex, is sensitive and charming, you can hardly believe he’s a Nazi trying to restart the war, while Devlin, the hero, is abrasive. In Notorious, we watch Alex go crazy over Alicia’s betrayal, giving us an idea of what he’s really like, but with Harry in The Third Man, there’s no “crazy” turning point.
In the scene where he and Holly meet after Holly discovered he faked his death, we watch Harry exhibit a wide range of emotions: he’s glad to see Holly, he’s sorry about Anna, he’s flip, he’s serious, he’s philosophical, he’s trivial, he’s murderous, he’s merciful, he’s calculating – and dangerous, very dangerous. Everything is mixed up together – we seem to see the Harry Anna and Holly eulogized, but he’s submerged in a cold-hearted murderer. Similarly, Calloway doesn’t have a specific moment when his character shifts gears and suddenly becomes sympathetic. Even after we discover that he’s chasing Harry for good reason, he’s still the same man – we just understand his motivation better. So the film works backwards.
Holly is different because his character undergoes serious change within a matter of days. Harry and Calloway, while complex, remain who they were at the start of the film. Holly, the anti-hero who writes cheap westerns about sheriffs always getting their men, is forced to act heroically – and there’s nothing glamorous about it. Un-dashing and unromantic (though I really don’t think Joseph Cotten has to hide his face under a paper bag), he eventually does the right thing but feels pretty lousy anyway. Plus he doesn't get the girl as a reward, and who wants him to, really? – but I’ll get back to that. Anna has a point: Harry saved her, how can she do anything to hurt him? But with that good comes a lot of bad and Holly is the one who is forced to pull the trigger. There’s no conflict for Calloway – he’s just doing his job and he doesn’t owe Harry anything. To make it worse, Harry gives Holly that little nod - he’s already bleeding to death and will probably die in minutes anyway - but Harry seems to say, “Go ahead.”
As for Anna, my reading of her changes every time I watch the film. She manages to be both entirely sympathetic and incredibly infuriating. You want to shout at her that she’s totally delusional for remaining loyal to Harry though you can certainly see why she would be. When she snubs Holly, you completely get why she wouldn’t want to be with him, but you think she’s an idiot for not understanding that Holly’s the real hero, however uncharismatic or latent. It’s a sign that she’s a complex human rather than a convenient type: you can’t reduce her to a single label. She’s not quite a love-interest because she’s clearly not interested in Holly. She’s not a heroine or a villain – she acts as a catalyst and a blocker, alternately.
Since I've spoiled everything anyway, here are the final two minutes of the film, which, while undoubtedly heartbreaking, are also cathartic. (I specifically cited it as an example when I wrote about endings.) As mentioned, the final scene and image have a lot of impact. The setting is dismal: it’s a cemetery and it’s autumn. These scraggly leaves are falling from skinny trees. Anna walks by Holly without giving him so much as a glance. Holly lights his cigarette and throws away the match. And that’s it, movie over. Holly needs that extra moment to say goodbye, mentally, at least – and so do we, I think.
Notice that throughout the film, most of the camera angles are sharp diagonals or the shot compositions are off-kilter. Cumulatively, it’s very unsettling, and the final shot emphasizes this not only by being perfectly symmetrical but by lasting almost a full two minutes. The road stretches into the distance in a perfectly centered convergence point. A certain balance has been restored, maybe only temporarily and at a great price – and don’t ask me between what this balance was exactly – but the last sequence still spells equilibrium to me. (Open acknowledgement: my spelling is not always the best.)
I’ve rambled on longer than I planned. I didn’t even get to the excellent supporting characters: Sgt. Paine (Bernard Lee), Calloway’s assistant; Harry’s black market cronies, Baron Kurtz (Ernst Deutsch), Popescu (Siegfried Breuer), Dr. Winkel (Erich Ponto); and the porter (Paul Hörbiger).
Next week… The Big Sleep, because it’s time for some Bogart and Bacall.
*Admittedly, I wasn't in Vienna during the immediate post-war years, but I think one of the film's few flaws is that, given the Cold War tension, it's more than a tad anti-Russian. I'm not saying the Russians were angelic sugar-cookies, but the film clearly has an agenda. It gets particularly heavy-handed when a unit of the wonder patrol comes to officially arrest Anna – the American, French, and British soldiers are all pointedly kind to Anna, while the Russian is surly. Harry’s cooperation with the Russians is part of the story, so that’s all well and good, but this scene seems almost purely for the sake of going “boo hiss” at them.
2 comments:
Although this film is an old favourite, your post has made me realise how little of the detail I remember. I think it's time I watched it again. Thanks, Stella.
My pleasure, Paul. It's always a good idea to revisit an old favorite.
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