The Third Man

(Reed, 1949)

Holly Martins is a pulp writer down on his luck who is invited to Vienna by his childhood friend, Harry Lime. He arrives in the bombed-out, post-war city almost penniless after a promise of work from Lime, only to discover that his friend has recently died in an accident.

After Martins attends the funeral, the Vienna authorities offer him a plane ticket home, but something does not sit quite right with Martins about the circumstances of Lime’s death. The people he casually asks about what happened seem fidgety and elusive, and more interestingly they each paint a slightly different version of events.

Despite encouragement from the authorities to let the matter rest, Martins sets about investigating the death and the identity of a mysterious ‘third man’ present at the scene of the accident.

The Third Man is a masterful noir thriller whose story unfolds skilfully, peeling back the layers of deceit to reveal shifting loyalties and questionable ethics. Vienna, as a city still in ruins following the war, is divided into quarters, each with its respective foreign jurisdiction. The Americans, British, French and Russian authorities all seem to have an interest in the matter of Harry Lime, but politics and the language barrier do well to ensure a healthy level of distrust and obfuscation.

It’s a gorgeously shot black and white film, clever and tense. Most of the story takes place at night, when those pulling the strings can move about without hindrance, and the next clue might be lurking in the nearest darkened doorway.

A number of the film’s characters speak largely or entirely in German, without subtitles, forcing the audience and protagonist to rely on the tone of their voice and third party interpretation, though like much in the film there is no guarantee that those interpreting can be relied on to truthfully convey the full message.

The Third Man is packed with memorable scenes and dialog, keeps the audience constantly guessing at the loyalties of every character, and is so beautifully shot and scored that even without the fantastic performances (by one character especially) this would still be one of the finest pieces of noir – British noir at that – of all time. If you haven’t already seen it, do yourself a favour and remedy that straight away, but try not to read other reviews as they have an annoying tendency of spoiling the plot for you.

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tl;dr: A potent mystery thriller set in a city broken in more ways than one. Stunning visuals, classic (if occasionally overpowering) music and inspiring performances all round. The characters are fleshed-out and believable, and the action will continually excite you even after you think you’ve figured it all out.

Born To Kill

(Wise, 1947)

Also known as “Lady Of Deceit” in the UK.

Some filmmakers go to great lengths to produce characters of great depth, complexity and unpredictability of intent. Some you can read a mile off, but at least the writer has the good grace to provide you with the odd bit of double-dealing and bluff.

Then there are films like Born To Kill, where the players are painted with such broad strokes as to make their motives transparent as a cat rubbing up against your leg every time you go anywhere near the kitchen. This is murder, avarice and blackmail by numbers.

That’s not to say that Born To Kill is a bad film. On the contrary, it’s sometimes quite nice to know exactly where you stand with characters: a hulking psychopath who will not only do whatever it takes to get what he wants, but will openly admit it to anyone who asks; a gold-digging coquette who is happy to use anyone who puts their trust in her; and a morally vacuous private investigator willing to sell out everyone in sight to achieve a better profit.

The morality of Born To Kill is almost exclusively black and white. Characters exist to exploit or be exploited, and betrayal is never more than a phone call away. Lawrence Tierney’s character is the destructive force that drives the film, and while he is rather one-dimensional, his frank callousness and barely-concealed rage give him credibility as an irredeemable noir heel.

The story, while not especially complex, keeps you guessing as to which, if any of the deeply unpleasant characters will come out on top in the end. This isn’t deep enough to qualify as noir at its best, but is definitely worth a watch for the entertaining individual performances and the unflinching fatalism of the narrative.

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tl;dr: A film ahead of its time in terms of the gritty unpleasantness of its seedy little world, Born To Kill is enjoyable, stock film noir with an uncomplicated plot and three wickedly depraved central characters.