Edward G. Robinson

The Stranger (1946)

The Stranger (1946)

ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

(On Cable TV, October 2019) In Orson Welles’s filmography, The Stranger is often regarded as one of his least remarkable efforts. An early film noir set in a small town where a Nazi-hunter comes to investigate, it was (at the time) an attempt by the disgraced Welles to prove that he could be counted upon as a dependable actor/director, free from the drama that punctuated the first few years of his career. We all know how Welles’s career eventually turned out when driven away from Hollywood, but he was successful in turning out a competent and profitable result with The Stranger. Alas, this work-for-hire means that the film has far fewer of the distinctive touches we associate with Welles at his best: while highly watchable, the result seems rote. The action moves efficiently through stock characters, and Welles even at his most commercial is still a cut above most directors of the time. The dialogue has some great moments (such as the magnificent speech about the nature of Germans, as horribly stereotyped as it may feel now) but the film’s biggest distinction is how closely it engages with the immediate aftermath of WW2: Never mind the film’s interest in escaped Nazis living in the States: it also features then-new graphic footage of concentration camps … including a pile of bodies. Just to make it clear what this is about. You can certainly see in The Stranger a transition film in between the domestic thrillers of the early-1940s and the more fully realized noir aesthetics of the end of the decade. The result is still worth a look, not least for the compelling performances of Welles, Loretta Young and Edward G. Robinson. It’s a striking illustration of what happens when a great artist is given familiar material.

The Woman in the Window (1944)

The Woman in the Window (1944)

ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

(On Cable TV, June 2019) There are two distinct sections in classic noir film The Woman in the Window. The first takes up most of the film and is an exemplar of the form. The second is the film’s final two minutes, and it destroys what we think of a noir movie. I’m eager to discuss it in spoilerriffic details, but first we’ll have a few general comments about the film’s bulk. (Any readers unfamiliar with the film are advised to go see it—no, really, it’s worth a look—before proceeding any further.)  Edward G. Robinson reinvented himself in the role of a meek professor finding himself in the middle of a terrible situation, forced to kill the lover of the woman he just met, and then arrange a coverup that goes awry. Joan Bennett is quite good as the titular woman, beguiling enough (wow, that see-through blouse!) that she can lead men to murder and deception. Dan Duryea is the third highlight of the film, playing a would-be blackmailer who cranks the tension even higher. Director Fritz Lang brings some moviemaking savvy to the film, but the result seems uncomfortable with the implicit dark humour of the screenplay as ironies mount and surround the protagonist. For much of its duration, The Woman in the Window is pitch-perfect noir as our meek protagonist simply finds himself at the wrong place and the wrong time, and keeps making desperate decisions that run against his better judgment and make the situation worse. It all leads to a climactic sequence in which he swallows enough pills to bring down a horse … and wakes up at the beginning of the film, having imagined it all. Do note that there are enough clues and foreshadowing here and there to make the ending somewhat organic and premeditated rather than tacked on: our protagonists openly muses about degrees of murder in the opening segment, then talks about the siren call of adventure with his friends before falling into slumber. The problem with the film may be one of anticipated codes: What we know of noir as it developed after 1944 is that its protagonists don’t get an easy way out: they suffer the whims of a capricious universe that sends temptations, mobsters and femmes fatales their way, and even having a solid moral compass may not be enough to save them from ruin. Still, there is a feeling that the happy ending is not deserved, that it cheapens the dramatic buildup, that it runs counter to the very foundations of noir. Whether it’s good or not is immaterial—although film historians will be quick to point out that the film was a commercial success and that its immediate remake, Scarlett Street (released a year later and featuring the same director, stars, plot) with a far more unforgiving ending, isn’t as remembered as the original. Few stories, all mediums combined, ever try to attempt the “it was all a dream” stunt for good reasons, and The Woman in the Window is a study in why.

Double Indemnity (1944)

Double Indemnity (1944)

ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

(On TV, June 2018) Like many, I like film noir a lot, and Double Indemnity is like mainlining a strong hit of the stuff. Pure undiluted deliciousness, with black-and-white cinematography, unusual investigator, femme fatale, crackling dialogue, strong narration and bleak outlook. Here, the focus on insurance agents trying to figure out a murder mystery is unusual enough to be interesting, while the Los Angeles setting is an instant classic. Fred MacMurray is a great anti-hero (morally flawed, but almost unexplainably likable along the way), Barbara Stanwyck is dangerously alluring and Edward G. Robinson is the moral anchor of the film. Double Indemnity does have that moment-to-moment watching compulsion that great movies have—whether it’s the details of an insurance firm, dialogue along the lines of the classic “There’s a speed limit in this state” exchange, a trip at the grocery store, or the careful composition of a noir film before they even had realized that there was a film noir genre. Double Indemnity is absorbing viewing, and a clear success for director Billy Wilder, gifted with a Raymond Chandler script from a James M. Cain novel.

Key Largo (1948)

Key Largo (1948)

ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

(On Cable TV, February 2018) There are actors that elevate the material they’re given no matter the genre or how many years later you see the result, and so while Key Largo is in itself a perfectly serviceable thriller, having Humphrey Bogart in the lead role certainly doesn’t hurt. At times a small-scale thriller in which various people are trapped in a Florida hotel during a hurricane (showing its theatrical origins), the film eventually opens up to a boat-set finale. In another classic pairing with Bogart, Lauren Bacall plays the dame in distress, with strong supporting performances from Edward G. Robinson and Claire Trevor. Director John Huston keeps things tight and suspenseful as characters are forced to interacting in a small setting—you can see the influence that the film had over some of Tarantino’s work, for instance. Key Largo is not particularly remarkable, but it does have this pleasant late-forties Hollywood studio sheen, meaning that you can watch it and be assured of a good time.

Soylent Green (1973)

Soylent Green (1973)

ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

(On DVD, December 2017) Everyone knows Soylent Green’s big twist, but there’s a lot more to the movie than Charlton Heston’s panicked “it’s PEOPLE!”  Firmly dystopian even when it doesn’t make sense, it doesn’t take a long time for Soylent Green to showcase its nightmarish vision of an overpopulated New York in a world where the environment has been (entirely?) destroyed. Things are so bad that steak and vegetables are a rare delicacy, and where even good cops can’t help but pillage the apartment of a rich murder victim. Euthanasia has been ritualized, street protests are cleaned up by heavy machinery and there’s a clear twilight-for-humanity theme to the film’s atmosphere. Heston stars as a cop intrigued by the murder of one of the city’s elite, but much of the movie is one bad thing after another, all the way to a gut-punch of a conclusion that finalizes the grim fate of its protagonist through a happy montage earlier established to signify a Requiem. You can know everything about Soylent Green’s conclusion and still be impressed (in the most depressing sense of the word) by the film’s relentless grimness. Very loosely adapted from Harry Harrison’s classic genre SF novel “Make Room! Make Room!” (which doesn’t even feature the big twist of the film), Soylent Green gets more interesting the more you read about it, especially how Edward G. Robinson’s final performance ends with an elaborate death sequence (the actor died twelve days after filming). Firmly belonging to the “Science-fiction as a warning” school of filmmaking, Soylent Green is often rough and crude. But it does carry a certain impact that helps make it stand out even today. It’s clearly a product of the seventies, but I found it somewhat more interesting than it’s endlessly parodied twist would suggest.