RKO – Sat In Your Lap

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.

Takin’ It Off Here Boss

***This Review Contains Spoilers***

Hell’s Highway is the lesser-known chain gang picture from 1932, overshadowed by its more famous counterpart, Warner Bros. I Am A Fugitive From A Chain Gang, however, according to sources, this RKO production was released two months prior to the Warner Bros. picture. There are some notable differences between the two socially-conscience, pre-code films. Unlike I Am A Fugitive…, the majority of Hell’s Highway takes place within the chain gang itself rather than the events leading to the protagonist being imprisoned. Richard Dix stars as Frank ‘Duke’ Ellis, whom unlike Paul Muni’s character in IAAFFAGC, is not an innocent man who has been falsely imprisoned, therefore as a viewer, one’s sympathies lie differently with him. The film cleverly creates sympathy for the character in two ways. Firstly it is established he has been locked up for the crime of bank robbery, which means he isn’t as morally reprehensible as say a murderer. Secondly, he forgoes an escape opportunity when he learns his idolizing younger brother Johnny (Tom Brown) has also been sentenced to the chain gang, thus Duke remains put in order to protect him. Duke is also a World War I veteran; however, the manner in which this is revealed is a brilliant piece of visual storytelling. In a scene in which Duke has been tied up to receive a whipping on the back, the guard is apprehensive about doing so. The camera then pans to Duke’s shirtless back to reveal a giant Tattoo of the American flag accompanied by the text “42^nd Machine Gun Co, 167^th INF.”, as the screen then fades to black – powerful stuff. Dix himself is a silent-era holdover and like his contemporary’s such as Richard Barthelmess, he has an intense presence and a face which is able to convey so much.

While Duke Ellis is a man who has been rightfully locked up, Hell’s Highway does raise the question of when does the punishment outdo the crime? When does punishment become even too hardcore for the likes of Dirty Harry – a system which has prisoners are in bondage the majority of the day, even as they sleep and eat in the mess hall. One of the most distinguishing images in Hell’s Highway is the prison uniforms which have a target on the back of them, a target for prison guards or bounty hunters to aim at as seen later in the film (however, I can’t find any real-life example of these uniforms actually existing). Likewise, the trousers worn by the prisoners have flaps on their rear ends, looking like an exposed diaper and another way (whether intentional or not) of removing dignity from these men. However, it’s the sweat box which is the most inhumane piece of torture present in the film. Alec Guinness might have survived one on the River Kwai but here it is a death sentence, as occurs early in the picture as indicated by the haunting sound of a crying dog (although one minor criticism I would deliver is from this moment having its impact weakened as a character immediately explains the dog’s crying means someone has died rather than just allowing the moment speak for itself).

Hell’s Highway opens with a prologue stating “Dedicated to an early end of the conditions portrayed herein – which though a throwback to the Middle Ages, actually exists today”, followed by a montage of newspaper headlines covering abuses taking place in chain gangs across the states. I am unable to find any evidence these headlines are real. For example, one of them reads “Prison Guards Accused Of Murder As Tortured Youth Dies Chained In Sweat Box” from the Seattle Post, a publication of which I can’t find any evidence of actually existing. Regardless, this along with the haunting acapella of chain gang singers over the opening credits sets the tone for the film. These chain gang chants serve as the film’s diegetic soundtrack (with prolific composer Max Steiner acting as the picture’s music director), which is put to its most effective use during a memorable montage which is accompanied by sketches made by prisoners depicting previous events in the film.

Hell’s Highway is one dirty, sweaty film full of fascinating, rugged faces which say a thousand words. Firstly I have to ask is the character of Maxie (Sandy Roth) supposed to look like the film’s producer David O. Selznick? Furthermore, it wouldn’t be a pre-code film without an overtly homosexual man thrown in; a prisoner who does what else, cooks the food and does the laundry. Moreover, the head guard of the chain gang, Mr. Skinner (C. Henry Gordan) has a moustache primed for twirling. However, throughout the course of the film, he is seen trying to learn the violin in his downtime – a corny but effective way to make him more human and show he has a soft side. However, if the film has one show stealer it has to be religious/spiritual prisoner Mathew, a man who claims to be Christian despite having three wives at once and an expansive knowledge of astrology (of which he highfalutin, astrological predictions do come true throughout the film). When I first watched Hell’s Highway I had to know who this actor was a dead ringer for Harry Dean Stanton (or certainty in this picture at least). It turns out the actor is known as Charles Middleton, whose biggest claim to fame was playing Ming With Merciless in three Flash Gordon serials made between 1936-1940.

Hell’s Highway concludes with justice actually being served by the film’s end in which the Of Michigan State Governor arrives at the chain gang prison to issue injunctions against the corrupt prison officials for their violation of state law (although it is not stated where the film is actually set until ¾ into the picture). The Governor himself is presented in one of the most comically, stereotypical images of an American authority figure (usually a southerner but not always the case as seen here) wearing the Col. Sanders white suit, hat, shoes and the black bow tie. The ending is another major deviation from I Am A Fugitive…, which does not conclude in such a manner with everything being neatly tied up. It’s not a bad ending by any means, but I do feel the film’s impact could have been stronger with justice not remaining delivered at the end. Regardless, perspective viewers can find this pre-code gem on the Warner Archive Forbidden Hollywood Collection: Volume 9.