Spotlight
Spotlight Date: 28-September-03
Spoiler Rating: Medium
The Third Man (1949)
"The Third Man," one of the genuine masterpieces of American cinema, has so much going for it that I don't know where to start. Its 100 minutes of sheer delight include Joseph Cotten at his unaffected best, one of the most distinctive soundtracks ever, one of the most memorable entrances ever (by Roger Ebert's favorite villain of all time), and one of the greatest endings ever. Oh, and the other elements you might expect from a masterpiece, like stunning cinematography, terrific acting, and a flawless screenplay that combines drama, humor, history, suspense, and romance. What is a reviewer to say? It doesn't get much better than this.
The setting is Vienna at the end of World War II, when the city is split into four sectors patrolled by the Americans, the British, the Russians, and the French. Cotten plays Holly Martins, an American author of cheesy western novels who travels to the fractured city expecting to find a longtime pal and a prospective job. Upon his arrival, however, Martins discovers that his friend, Harry Lime, has recently died in a car accident. His grief at this news turns to resentment when he learns from the British commander, Major Calloway (Trevor Howard), that Lime was a suspected racketeer. Hoping to clear his friend's name, Martins begins to investigate the accident and soon becomes acquainted with Lime's friends (a shady bunch if ever there was one) and girlfriend, a beautiful actress named Anna (Valli). While subsequently pursuing his leads, annoying Calloway, wooing Anna, and evading his obligations to a group of expatriate literati, Martins manages to uncover some unexpected truths behind his friend's suspicious life and even more suspicious death.
One of the great wonders of this film is the way it creates a host of full-bodied, three-dimensional characters (whereas in modern movies you're lucky to get even one). This is in part accomplished by the juxtaposition of different nationalities, e.g., the cool, efficient, and veddy British Major Calloway (for whom I harbor the most monstrous of crushes) and the blustering, tactless, and entirely American Martins. The viewer really gets close to these two men, not through hearing about their histories or personal lives, but through viewing the effects of their careers, the levels of their determination, and, most of all, the direction in which their moral compasses are pointing. The character of Martins is also enhanced by his fish-out-of-water status (in Vienna, overall, and with the literati, specifically) and by his sad, funny attachment to Anna, who smolders with her own unique fire but still exemplifies the elusive grace of the European. This is the rare suspense story where watching the characters as they go about solving the mystery is equally fascinating as solving the mystery itself.
Carol Reed earns my sincerest admiration for directing "The Third Man," but the big behind-the-scenes heroes are Graham Greene, who wrote the screenplay, and Robert Krasker, who provided the movie's Oscar-winning black-and-white cinematography (breathtaking even in the crappy, pre-50th-anniversary videotape version that I currently own). Their exceptional work --- in addition to Anton Karas' unique and unforgettable zither music --- sets the stage on which Cotten, Howard, Valli, and Orson Welles (in a major, if not extensive, role) deliver some of their finest performances, creating scenes and moments that virtually define the glory of cinema. The faces of Lime's sinister associates; the scenes of bombed but beautiful Vienna; the shot of a knife cutting meat just as destiny comes to call; the famous "cuckoo clock" speech; Valli's portrait of a woman almost debilitated by love --- these are instances of pure magic, captured on film for the everlasting honor of their creators and delectation of their audience. "The Third Man" brims with all the good stuff of narrative and emotion and wit and beauty; it's simply fantastic entertainment from beginning to glorious end.
Copyright © 2003 The Jujube (M. I. Kim). All rights reserved.
