Stranger On The Third Floor (1940)

We Have Plenty Of Hearsay and Conjecture, Those Are Kinds Of Evidence

***This Review Contains Spoilers***

Peter Lorre appeared in several of the most important movies ever made. Most famously, Casablanca, but he also appeared in two movies instrumental to the film noir genre, Fritz Lang’s M and The Maltese Falcon. Then there is Stranger On The Third Floor, a film largely unknown yet often identified as the first film noir. Although it can be hard to identify a year-zero for the genre, with predating films featuring elements of what later became referred to as noir, Stranger On The Third Floor may be the closest a film can be bestowed with such an accolade. However, rather than just being a curio due to its esteemed status, Stranger On The Third Floor is, by its own merits, a great piece of cinematic artistry wrapped up in a thrilling single hour.

Stranger On The Third Floor contains many elements associated with noir. Deep shadows. Flashbacks. Voice-over narration. Low and diagonal camera angles. An urban jungle. The blinds motif. Late-night coffee shops. Cynical reporters. A falsely accused man, etc. When looking at the crew behind the film, starting with noted art director Van Nest Polglase, along with the European talent of Russian-born director Boris Ingster (reportedly an associate of Russian director Sergei Eisenstein, and with only three directing credits to his name) and Italian-born cinematographer Nicholas Musuraca, it makes sense how this work of German expressionist imagery came to be.

Reporter Mike Ward (John McGuire) is the key witness in a murder trial after observing Joe Briggs (Elisha Cook Jr.) standing over the body of a dead man in a diner. This is instrumental in having Briggs found guilty and sentenced to the chair. For Mike, on the other hand, it gets him a big promotion at work and a story on the front page of his paper – “Star Reporter is Key Witness In Murder Case”. Mike isn’t the hero as seen in many Hollywood films at the time. He is not driven to do the right thing but rather acting in his own self-interest and to protect himself. He does not have much of a guilty conscience over his testimony sending a man to death, but instead, he is worried that his past actions will result in him being implicated in the murder. While John McGuire is a footnote in Hollywood history, his voiceover delivery is unmistakably noir with its thoughtful yet flat tone (his overthinking about his words being taken out of context is relatable to observe). Mike’s delirium-soaked nightmare sequence is the film’s crown jewel, proving it refuses to be confined by its B-movie budget. The sequence is full of unforgettable, surreal images and moments of hammy acting from Mike’s imagined arrest to his trial and eventual execution on the electric chair.

Despite being top billed, Peter Lorre only appears sparingly as the titular character. His role in the film is not too dissimilar to M, in which he lurks in the background before making a splash in the film’s climax. Whether or not this was intentional remains to be seen, as the story goes that Lorre’s involvement and limited screen time in the film came about as he owed RKO two more days in his contract. Lorre appears incredibly thin in Stranger On The Third Floor (especially compared to the more pudgy Lorre of earlier films), while the visible gaps in his teeth make him all the more unnerving. Likewise, his character is repeatedly seen throwing a scarf over his shoulder, a memorable little motif which does humanise him somewhat.  Elisha Cook Jr., on the other hand, was 37 years old in Stranger On The Third Floor, yet he looks like a teenager (which the movie itself comments upon – “he looks like a kid”). Upon hearing his guilty sentence, the innocent, wide-eyed, aw-shucks Cook is hair-raisingly brilliant as his echoing voice repeatedly utters “I didn’t kill him!”. The following year, both Cook and Lorre would star in The Maltese Falcon.

Mike and his fiancée Jane (Margaret Tallichet) are not entirely likeable characters. In the opening scene, Jane is hogging a spare seat in a busy diner to the open dismay of other customers, but that’s on the low end compared to Mike. He is seen during the film having a very confrontational relationship with both his landlady and his kind and elderly next-door neighbour (Charles Halton). He even goes as far as grabbing the old man by his bathrobe and threatening him, not to mention Jane herself sees him doing this and chooses to remain with him. Although it makes sense that the film has an unlikable protagonist since the film has a cynical outlook on his profession, questioning the morality of journalists profiting off crime. None of the reporters in the film are portrayed with endowing much sense of journalistic responsibility (“How do you know he did it?, Who cares, what a story, what a story!”). Likewise, in classic noir fashion, Stranger On The Third Floor is also critical of that other pillar of American society, the justice system. During the courtroom sequence, Joe Briggs is being tried on circumstantial evidence, the judge is clearly uninterested in the case, the lawyer on behalf of the accused is uninquisitive and there is even a juror who treats himself to a nap during proceedings. 

Stranger On The Third Floor concludes with Briggs now a free man and working as a cabbie, offering Mike and Jane a taxi ride on the house — a tidy resolution that feels almost suspicious in its optimism, although it could be argued that it is intentionally ironic. After all, Briggs is only free as a by-product of Mike’s self-interest and not out of any heroic deeds. The truth did not triumph; justice was merely accidental. Welcome to the shady, morally incongruent world of film noir.

Love Me Tonight (1932)

Tailor Made Man

Love Me Tonight was produced and directed by the forgotten movie magic maestro Rouben Mamoulian, a name who doesn’t make the history books compared to the likes of Orson Welles but who’s work during the pre-code era deserve that cliché expression, “ahead of its time” – films which had extensive visual freedom more technical wizardry than you can shake a stick at. No more so than in the musical, comedy Love Me Tonight, the first film in history to use a zoom lens as it does several times throughout the movie (yet it would be decades until this technique would catch on). Not to mention the film’s early use of slow-motion during a very dreamlike deer hunt sequence – quite unlike anything else you’ll see in a film from the time.

Sharp Dressed Man

Love Me Tonight opens with the city of Paris coming to life in a visual manner reminiscent of the silent documentary film Berlin: Symphony of a Great City; however this is accompanied by a symphony created by everyday sounds from a construction worker hitting the ground with a pike axe to a woman sweeping a pathway. Likewise, the Paris street sets look authentic (with shots reminiscent of Gene Kelly’s apartment and neighbourhood from An American In Paris), I would believe it was real-world location but it was a set in the Paramount back lot, which is equalled by the opulence and detail of the chateau seen later on in the film.

Love Me Tonight is an Ernst Lubitsch style romantic comedy focusing on European aristocracy. Our protagonist and his Supreme Frenchness is Maurice Chevalier in the role of well…Maurice – the stereotypical Frenchman who’s life revolves around the concept of romance (is there any truth to Hollywood’s fantasy of France and Paris in particular?). He is one fine dressed man in his dashing turtle neck and a distinct walk (he is a tailor after all) along with a shade of Groucho Marx aspect to his personality with his witty comebacks to all the bourgeois snobs he encounters. 

It was a novelty in 1932 for musical numbers to be so interwoven into the text and pushing the plot along, in particular, the Isn’t It Romantic number which cleverly connects future lovers by song as Maurice begins singing it in his Paris tailor shop and it ends up being carried out of the city and across the countryside to a chateau in which Jeanette MacDonald (who feels like she was tailor-made to play nobility) and her magnificent pair of pipes finish it off. Love Me Tonight has no shortage of character actors galore such as the inclusion of the three spinster sisters (a more benevolent version of the three witched from Macbeth) being a very humorous touch, especially when they sound like chickens as they frantically pace. Also take note of MacDonald’s reaction to Charles Butterworth falling off ladder and landing on his flute – priceless. 

The other great addition to Love Me Tonight is an always show-stealing Myrna Loy in a part which helped turn her career around from being typecast as the exotic temptress to performing high comedy as the sex-hungry Countess Valentine. The bored sex fiend spends her time around the chateau sleeping on chairs and furniture, becoming excited when the prospect of a male encounter arises. She gets many of the film’s best and not to subtle innuendo-laden lines and even sings for the only time in her career during her few lines in The Son Of A Gun Is Nothing But A Tailor. Currently, the only version of Love Me Tonight known to exist is the censored 1949 re-issue which includes among other potentially suggestive cuts, an omission of Myrna Loy’s reprise of “Mimi” due to her wearing of a suggestive nightgown. Why yes I’m outraged that a piece of film history has been erased and in no way does being deprived of seeing a scantily clad Myrna Loy factor into it. 

Regardless of what we are left with, it surprises me the Love Me Tonight would even receive a post-code rerelease with every other line of dialogue being a sexual innuendo (not to mention one particularly luring pan of MacDonald in lingerie as the Doctor inspects her). We can always hope one day an uncensored print we surface.