RKO
Radio Pictures, 71m 13s
Fishing
pals Roy Collins (Edmond O'Brien) and Gilbert Bowen (Frank Lovejoy) are on the
road from El Centro, California to San Felipe, Baja California. After a stop in
Mexicali, the men make a potentially grave error when they incautiously pick up
the apparently stranded Emmett Myers (William Talman), an itinerant wanted for
murder. With revolver in hand, Myers quickly assumes command of the journey,
now destined for the port city Santa Rosalía. Myers offers no grain of hope for
the unfortunate roadtrippers. "You guys are gonna die, that's all. It's
just a question of when," he promises. In the meantime, there is not a
moment without worry for Collins and Bowen. At one road stop, Myers gleefully
forces Bowen to shoot at Collins in a cruel target practice session. The
outlook for the would-be outdoorsmen seems especially grim when it is revealed
Myers never sleeps in the conventional sense.
A
compact film noir thriller textured
with more than the usual grit, THE
HITCH-HIKER plugs along in tight alignment with recurring noir tropes and themes. The far-reaching
grip of fatalism that so often informs the noir
narrative is pervasive in this instance. Only a truly indifferent universe
could funnel a couple of decent guys into a ride share with a callous,
sought-after killer like Myers. Another line of analysis might consider a
misogynistic explanation for the significant plot points. The recreational trip
planned by Collins and Bowen is spoiled after an impromptu detour into the
seamier side of Mexican urban life, in memory of "a dame" as Myers
puts it. Were it not for a brief look at the night life in Mexicali, perhaps
another driver would have had the misfortune to encounter Myers and his
outstretched thumb.
The
unbalanced noir psychopath's erratic
behavior of the late 1940s, best exemplified by the giggling maniac Tommy Udo
(Richard Widmark) in KISS OF DEATH
(1947), invaded the 1950s in forms as diverse as Chester (Neville Brand) from D.O.A. (1950), the aging has-been Norma
Desmond (Gloria Swanson) clinging to SUNSET
BOULEVARD (1950), the temperamental gunslinger Annie Laurie Starr (Peggy
Cummins) who goes GUN CRAZY (1950),
the coffee-slinging madman Vince Stone (Lee Marvin) who provides THE BIG HEAT (1953) and the disturbed
introvert Leon Poole (Wendell Corey) from THE
KILLER IS LOOSE (1956). One of the more contemptible villains on cinematic scorecards,
Emmett Myers is the embodiment of the '50s noir
psychotic, complete with diabolical laugh. From an appearance standpoint his
oily skin, greasy hair and upper eyelid paralysis combine to suggest an
individual one would be wise to keep at a safe distance. He shares a certain
kinship with Elmo "One-Eye" Mobley, AKA Chickamaw (Howard Da Silva)
of THEY LIVE BY NIGHT (1948),
another disfigured noir character at
large in a post-WWII society riddled with wounded men.
Persistently
reckless behavior only confirms any judgment made about Myers based solely on
his appearance. He not only heartlessly kills humans, but movie sin of sins,
defenseless dogs that bark incessantly. His spoken word is unremittingly gruff;
seldom is there any calm to his voice. Myers repeatedly employs a xenophobic
attitude about Mexican people despite his plan to hide out in Mexico. And like
most memorable heels of the cinema, Myers does not see himself as a social
problem. He in fact congratulates himself for not participating in a debt-based
society that gets people like Collins and Bowen into tough situations. Myers is
proud to declare he does not owe anybody anything, and even reminds Collins and
Bowen either of them could have escaped had they not felt indebted to each
other. At a certain juncture in the story, Collins walks with a pronounced
limp, a common noir motif that
implies compromised masculinity. Nonetheless, Collins proves himself a better
man than Myers, who despite all of his tough talk reveals himself to be a weak
person once secured by authorities.
 |
| A criminal mug for the ages: William Talman |
In
the tradition of ON DANGEROUS GROUND
(1951), MOONRISE (1948) and ACE IN THE HOLE (1951), THE HITCH-HIKER is another reminder the
noir film need not have primarily
urban settings to create a sense of alienation and despair. When Myers, Collins
and Bowen continue their journey on foot once their vehicular option has been
eliminated, a Mexican desert provides a daunting noir wasteland. In another movie trend of the time, law enforcement
entities prove incredibly efficient and effective. California police and
Mexican authorities gladly combine their efforts for the benefit of the public.
These days such selfless cooperation dates the film more than the black &
white cinematography or occasionally stilted dialog ever could.
An
independent production of Filmakers Inc., the company created by Ida Lupino and
her husband Collier Young to manufacture social-issue programmers, THE HITCH-HIKER was inspired by the
murderous exploits of Billy Cook, who went on a 22-day killing spree from
Missouri to California in the early 1950s. It was directed by Lupino, who
co-wrote the screenplay with producer Collier Young, by then her ex-husband.
The script was based upon a story by Daniel Mainwaring, who was blacklisted at
the time and thus failed to receive screen credit for his contribution. Lupino
also directed two other film noir
offerings, OUTRAGE (1950) and THE BIGAMIST (1953), but surely is best
remembered by loyal noir fans for her
appearances as an actress in HIGH SIERRA
(1941), MOONTIDE (1942), ROAD HOUSE (1948), WOMAN IN HIDING (1950) and the undisputed genre classic ON DANGEROUS GROUND. Director of
photography Nicholas Musuraca perfected the visual bedrock of the noir film with his mind-bendingly
beautiful cinematography that distinguished director Jacques Tourneur's OUT OF THE PAST (1947). His most
visually arresting work in this project comes at the concluding sequence at the
docks, nicely illuminated to evoke suspense.
The
basis for this review is the single-layered Blu-ray edition released by Kino
Classics back in 2013, "Preserved by the Library of Congress Packard
Campus for Audio Visual Conservation." Framing is at the correct
theatrical aspect ratio of 1.37:1, though the packaging falsely indicates a
1.33:1 presentation.
