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Odd Man Out (1947)
Director: Carol Reed
Cast: James Mason, Robert Newton, Cyril Cusack, Kathleen Ryan
Like John Boulting’s Brighton Rock, this is definitive proof that the Limeys could also make a decent fist at this most American genre. Carol Reed went on to direct classics like The Fallen Idol (1948) and The Third Man (1949), but the English director got the noir feel right first time with a political thriller set on the cobbled streets of Belfast. It was a ballsy choice, considering the controversy that was bound to cloud the film’s release – Irish nationalism was hardly catnip for audiences of the time. Reed’s conflicted antihero is Johnny McQueen (James Mason), an IRA man on the lam with a bullet in his chest, the arm of the law on his shoulder and only long-suffering girlfriend (Kathleen Ryan) prepared to fight his corner. It’s Mason’s film all the way – the plight of his sweating, suffering nationalist is presented through the brain-bendiest POV shots this side of Enter The Void. The great Aussie cinematographer Robert Krasker may be better known for his work on The Third Man and Brief Encounter, but his and Reed’s Belfast (recreated on Denham Studios soundstages) is a thing of grimy menace, haunted by devious publicans, mad artists, underhanded bird-fanciers and fanatical gangsters. As the clock ticks, can the dying McQueen find salvation among this cast of ne’er-do-wells? Just try taking your eyes off it.
The Big Heat (1953)
Director: Fritz Lang
Cast: Glenn Ford, Gloria Grahame, Lee Marvin, Jocelyn Brando
Tagline: “A hard cop and a soft dame!”
This classic enshrined Fritz Lang as the link between German expressionism and American noir, but the tagline had it wrong. The “hard cop” was Glenn Ford’s homicide sergeant Dave Bannion, but “soft dame”? Well, there ain’t too many in The Big Heat’s hardboiled world. Definitely not Debby Marsh (Gloria Grahame), the dame on the make who gets too close to Bannion for the local crime syndicate’s liking and ends up with a face full of scalding coffee. Aside from a strong argument for iced latte, it’s possibly the defining act of weapons’-grade nastiness in the whole noir canon – which is saying something given the rogue’s gallery of psychos and pistol-packing maniacs that crept out of William McGivern’s pulp novel alone. Bannion, whose wife is murdered when he starts poking around a suspicious suicide in the department, chucks in his badge to pursue them, leading him straight to a hive of bad guys. He’s an upstanding cop on the surface, but scratch a little and you find a man blithely endangering all the women he brings into his life in the headlong pursuit of revenge. But then, that righteousness lark is no easy ride, especially with Lee Marvin and Alexander Scourby’s blank-eyed hoodlums on the prowl.
Kiss Me Deadly (1955)
Director: Robert Aldrich
Cast: Ralph Meeker, Gaby Rodgers, Albert Dekker, Paul Stewart
Tagline: “Blood red kisses! White hot thrills! Mickey Spillane's latest H-bomb!”
Robert Aldrich’s nihilist noir was intended as a counterblast to post-war paranoia: a movie that was designed to give McCarthyite witch-hunters and Cold War hawks sleepless nights, but that gave everyone else one too. Watching it now, it’s a majestically sour-faced slice of monochrome cool. More hard-boiled than a vulcanised free-range and boasting the ethics of a FIFA suit, Mike Hammer (Ralph Meeker) is the man the story hitches a ride with, taking in some down and dirty corners of the human psyche along the way. The ‘Great Whatsit’ Hammer quests after gives new meaning to the word ‘boom-box’. It’s a mysterious, malevolent case that’s resurfaced in different guises in Pulp Fiction, Barton Fink and Raiders Of The Lost Ark, to name a few. While it’s never entirely faithful to Mickey Spillane’s novel, Aldrich’s adaptation picks the right dames to stray with in Gaby Rodgers’s icy blonde, a femme at least 25 percent more fatale than any in cinema.
Le Doulos (1962)
Director: Jean-Pierre Melville
Cast: Jean-Paul Belmondo, Philippe Nahon, Serge Reggiani
With its traditional love of US gangster flicks and a serious case of post-war blues, France was fertile ground for film noir to make the journey across the Atlantic. After all, what could be better than a bunch of gloomy men with guns? Nothing, especially if they were complex Gallic types like Tony le Stéphanois (Jules Dassin’s Rififi), Jef Costello (Jean-Pierre Melville’s Le Samourai) and Jean (Marcel Carné’s Le Quai Des Brumes) - handsome, brooding antiheroes who toy with our sympathies but probably couldn’t give un tóss if we take their side or not. More than any of his peers, Melville bridged noir and New Wave, so the hats, pistols and trench coats remain ubiquitous but the narrative is vaguer and the style looser. He gives his antihero, Jean-Paul Belmondo’s titular snitch - “Le Doul” is shorthand for finger man - has motives murky enough to keep you guessing to the final reel. Has he sold out old friend Faugel (Reggiani) or is it all a cunning ploy to double-cross his police paymasters? Hey, it’s Jean-Paul Belmondo. Whatever he does, he's going to make it look fairly cool.
Director: Carol Reed
Cast: James Mason, Robert Newton, Cyril Cusack, Kathleen Ryan
Like John Boulting’s Brighton Rock, this is definitive proof that the Limeys could also make a decent fist at this most American genre. Carol Reed went on to direct classics like The Fallen Idol (1948) and The Third Man (1949), but the English director got the noir feel right first time with a political thriller set on the cobbled streets of Belfast. It was a ballsy choice, considering the controversy that was bound to cloud the film’s release – Irish nationalism was hardly catnip for audiences of the time. Reed’s conflicted antihero is Johnny McQueen (James Mason), an IRA man on the lam with a bullet in his chest, the arm of the law on his shoulder and only long-suffering girlfriend (Kathleen Ryan) prepared to fight his corner. It’s Mason’s film all the way – the plight of his sweating, suffering nationalist is presented through the brain-bendiest POV shots this side of Enter The Void. The great Aussie cinematographer Robert Krasker may be better known for his work on The Third Man and Brief Encounter, but his and Reed’s Belfast (recreated on Denham Studios soundstages) is a thing of grimy menace, haunted by devious publicans, mad artists, underhanded bird-fanciers and fanatical gangsters. As the clock ticks, can the dying McQueen find salvation among this cast of ne’er-do-wells? Just try taking your eyes off it.
The Big Heat (1953)
Director: Fritz Lang
Cast: Glenn Ford, Gloria Grahame, Lee Marvin, Jocelyn Brando
Tagline: “A hard cop and a soft dame!”
This classic enshrined Fritz Lang as the link between German expressionism and American noir, but the tagline had it wrong. The “hard cop” was Glenn Ford’s homicide sergeant Dave Bannion, but “soft dame”? Well, there ain’t too many in The Big Heat’s hardboiled world. Definitely not Debby Marsh (Gloria Grahame), the dame on the make who gets too close to Bannion for the local crime syndicate’s liking and ends up with a face full of scalding coffee. Aside from a strong argument for iced latte, it’s possibly the defining act of weapons’-grade nastiness in the whole noir canon – which is saying something given the rogue’s gallery of psychos and pistol-packing maniacs that crept out of William McGivern’s pulp novel alone. Bannion, whose wife is murdered when he starts poking around a suspicious suicide in the department, chucks in his badge to pursue them, leading him straight to a hive of bad guys. He’s an upstanding cop on the surface, but scratch a little and you find a man blithely endangering all the women he brings into his life in the headlong pursuit of revenge. But then, that righteousness lark is no easy ride, especially with Lee Marvin and Alexander Scourby’s blank-eyed hoodlums on the prowl.
Kiss Me Deadly (1955)
Director: Robert Aldrich
Cast: Ralph Meeker, Gaby Rodgers, Albert Dekker, Paul Stewart
Tagline: “Blood red kisses! White hot thrills! Mickey Spillane's latest H-bomb!”
Robert Aldrich’s nihilist noir was intended as a counterblast to post-war paranoia: a movie that was designed to give McCarthyite witch-hunters and Cold War hawks sleepless nights, but that gave everyone else one too. Watching it now, it’s a majestically sour-faced slice of monochrome cool. More hard-boiled than a vulcanised free-range and boasting the ethics of a FIFA suit, Mike Hammer (Ralph Meeker) is the man the story hitches a ride with, taking in some down and dirty corners of the human psyche along the way. The ‘Great Whatsit’ Hammer quests after gives new meaning to the word ‘boom-box’. It’s a mysterious, malevolent case that’s resurfaced in different guises in Pulp Fiction, Barton Fink and Raiders Of The Lost Ark, to name a few. While it’s never entirely faithful to Mickey Spillane’s novel, Aldrich’s adaptation picks the right dames to stray with in Gaby Rodgers’s icy blonde, a femme at least 25 percent more fatale than any in cinema.
Le Doulos (1962)
Director: Jean-Pierre Melville
Cast: Jean-Paul Belmondo, Philippe Nahon, Serge Reggiani
With its traditional love of US gangster flicks and a serious case of post-war blues, France was fertile ground for film noir to make the journey across the Atlantic. After all, what could be better than a bunch of gloomy men with guns? Nothing, especially if they were complex Gallic types like Tony le Stéphanois (Jules Dassin’s Rififi), Jef Costello (Jean-Pierre Melville’s Le Samourai) and Jean (Marcel Carné’s Le Quai Des Brumes) - handsome, brooding antiheroes who toy with our sympathies but probably couldn’t give un tóss if we take their side or not. More than any of his peers, Melville bridged noir and New Wave, so the hats, pistols and trench coats remain ubiquitous but the narrative is vaguer and the style looser. He gives his antihero, Jean-Paul Belmondo’s titular snitch - “Le Doul” is shorthand for finger man - has motives murky enough to keep you guessing to the final reel. Has he sold out old friend Faugel (Reggiani) or is it all a cunning ploy to double-cross his police paymasters? Hey, it’s Jean-Paul Belmondo. Whatever he does, he's going to make it look fairly cool.
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