Saturday, August 1, 2026

THE RACKET (1951)

RKO Radio Pictures, 89m 25s

The ordinary American citizen probably has questioned the integrity of government elites at least since the Vietnam War, when the truth of that extended conflict's progress was obscured by elected officials hideously out of sync with the views of their constituents. Fast forward over 50 years and that erosion of credibility persists in a more open environment, as smug political figures and parasitic lobby groups barely make an effort to hide the presence of unspeakable corruption. Perhaps the major players involved sense the public has grown to accept the self-serving functionality of federal institutions, which allow a shadowy underworld of highly effective lobbyists and wealthy uber-rich influencers to manipulate the taxpayer-funded public system that supposedly serves common people. How can a representative democracy possibly reflect general public sentiment when everyone knows political power can be bought? We now live in an America in which lobbyists sit down with our politicians and write laws for our elected officials to enact.

Compared to the United States that chugs along today, THE RACKET reflects a time when prominent public officeholders were more likely to be trustworthy, sturdy individuals immune to corruption, the sort of men determined to sound the death knell for any percolating nefarious forces. At the same time, the timing of THE RACKET's release was intended to exploit public concern about a sprawling criminal underworld, and it was among the first Hollywood products to do so. Public awareness of crime machinery was heightened by the Kefauver Hearings, led by Tennessee Senator Estes Kefauver, that appeared on national broadcast television from 1950—1951. One of the earliest congressional investigations to be televised, the "Special Committee to Investigate Crime in Interstate Commerce" exposed the degree to which sophisticated criminal networks had merged with political authority and legitimate business. The sobering realities of organized crime were made clear:  untaxed revenue was massive, crime operations crossed state lines, and local police and politicians were harnessed to suit formidable criminal hierarchies.

Easy does it

This will make you feel a whole lot better

As always, for a man to rise, another man must fall - in this scene,
the corrupt official Mortimer X. Welsh (Ray Collins) rises above
the fallen man Roy Higgins (Howland Chamberlain)

THE RACKET advances the established tradition of the film noir city as ideal playground for the devil’s entertainment. The city’s name is never specified, which transmits a discernible level of pessimism to be sure. By inference, this environment could stand in for any American urban center, always vulnerable to noxious criminal enterprises that pass through the arteries of the city's anatomy. The story opens with the introduction of a crime commission ready to leap into action against illegal interstate racketeering. The individual long aligned with local crime maneuvers is Nick Scanlon (Robert Ryan), an old-school gangster prone to wild physical outbursts. A holdover from an earlier time, Scanlon is now associated with a national outfit run by an unseen person mentioned only as "the old man." The crime syndicate seeks dominion over the city's government and already has compromised the state investigator Turk (William Conrad) and D.A. Mortimer X. Welsh (Ray Collins). Opposed to the gangsters are Captain Thomas McQuigg (Robert Mitchum), an incorruptible public servant if ever there were one, and Officer Bob Johnson (William Talman), a beat cop with an excellent eye for unwelcome hoodlums. The good guys have their work cut out for them now that crime has become dangerously intertwined with legal business ventures:  the Acme Real Estate Company conceals unlawful activity behind a facade of respectability.

The narrative is constructed primarily around Nick Scanlon, whose time is running out on him. The last of his era, Scanlon is an ill-tempered, crude personality of limited education. All of those things pile up against him. The Scanlon character arc anticipates the dynamics of crucial Westerns like THE MAN WHO SHOT LIBERTY VALANCE (1962), THE WILD BUNCH (1969), PAT GARRETT & BILLY THE KID (1973) and THE SHOOTIST (1976), all of which showcase aging rugged individualists who face displacement in a world primed to move on without them. It seems the Acme Real Estate Company's attempts to preserve Scanlon amount to catastrophic strategic failure. Far less disciplined than his more composed contemporaries, Scanlon proves he is more trouble than he is worth. He habitually comes off as a relic in need of replacement, as when he orders the elimination of Roy Higgins (Howland Chamberlain), who has leaked info to the crime commission. R.G. Connolly (Don Porter) correctly sees Scanlon as a fossil, an artifact of a bygone age. Scanlon's singular impulses are best demonstrated when he beats down his own employee and then brazenly shoots Officer Johnson inside the 7th District Police Station during a needlessly clumsy confrontation. Improbably, Johnson somehow never received a briefing in regard to the notorious Nick Scanlon's appearance, yet Johnson's keen eye identifies one of Scanlon's thugs early in the film. The downfall of Scanlon and everything he represents is well implied when D.A. Welsh's outdoor marketing campaign for county judge is taken apart by an impatient police vehicle. Though evil is contained at the film's conclusion, Captain McQuigg is so selflessly dedicated to his job that he finds no time to celebrate his hard-fought victory over Scanlon. McQuigg concludes the film with full awareness that significant new challenges will emerge to replace old ones.

Captain Thomas McQuigg (Robert Mitchum) cannot be
bought by Robert Ryan's hoodlum Nick Scanlon

The noir stairway always suggests danger, often creeping death

Inanimate objects loom large in film noir, sometimes with
more prominence than people, like this table lamp

The bulk of THE RACKET was directed by John Cromwell, though a staggering list of uncredited directors made contributions, including Mel Ferrer, Tay Garnett, Edmund Grainger, Nicholas Ray and editor Sherman Todd. Rare is a cavalcade of directors a positive sign, and no doubt the somewhat disjointed nature of the Howard Hughes production can be attributed to that laundry list. Director of photography George E. Diskant was no stranger to film noir productions, with an impressive collection of titles to his credit such as DESPERATE (1947), THEY LIVE BY NIGHT (1948), ON DANGEROUS GROUND (1951), THE NARROW MARGIN (1952), BEWARE, MY LOVELY (1952) and KANSAS CITY CONFIDENTIAL (1952). THE RACKET is a remake of the 1928 silent drama of the same title, adapted from Bartlett Cormack's play. The original adaptation received a Best Picture Oscar nomination in 1929. Fascinatingly, the original film interpretation of the play also was produced by Howard Hughes, the owner and controlling executive of RKO Radio Pictures from 1948 to the early 1950s. Hughes no doubt recognized the social relevance of the material would mesh well with 1950s audiences in the wake of the Kefauver Hearings. In another unusual connection, remake director Cromwell served as an actor in the stage production. The final screenplay was co-written by William Wister Haines and W.R. Burnett in their adaptation of the play by Cormack. Samuel Fuller wrote the original script.

A former drill instructor in the United States Marine Corps, Robert Ryan specialized in characters plagued by inner traumas and conflicts, i.e. CROSSFIRE (1947), ACT OF VIOLENCE (1949), CAUGHT (1949), THE SET-UP (1949), ON DANGEROUS GROUND (1951), BEWARE, MY LOVELY (1952), BAD DAY AT BLACK ROCK (1955) and ODDS AGAINST TOMORROW (1959). Ryan serves as the anchor of THE RACKET, always the point of interest whenever he is in front of the camera. Robert Mitchum, RKO's other big star along with Ryan, was noted for sleepwalking through roles that he viewed as a mere paycheck. He also could dominate the screen when he felt the occasion demanded, as he did in PURSUED (1947), OUT OF THE PAST (1947), THE NIGHT OF THE HUNTER (1955) and CAPE FEAR (1962). His performance in THE RACKET is closer to his "paycheck" approach, nonetheless his role as an incorruptible cop must have been interesting to theatrical audiences in 1951. Mitchum was a noted dopesmoker, famously jailed in 1948. A character similar to the real Mitchum might suit up well with a modern-day version of this material, in which one would expect the governor to be the “Old Man” behind the curtain and McQuigg’s distinguished ethics to flip somewhere along the way. Ryan and Mitchum first appeared together in CROSSFIRE and later in THE LONGEST DAY (1962) and ANZIO (1968). Female roles are relegated to conventional noir cultural archetypes:  supportive housewives and streetwise dames. Joyce Mackenzie (Mary McQuigg) and Lucy Johnson (Virginia Huston) represent the nurturing women and Irene Hayes (Lizabeth Scott) is the "canary," a nightclub singer involved with Scanlon's worthless brother Joe (Brett King). Lizabeth Scott is among my least favorite of Hollywood name actresses noted for portraying noir dames repeatedly. Her sometimes listless presence often makes me wish someone else occupied her role, though I admit she brought something to the table for her roles in TOO LATE FOR TEARS (1949) and especially PITFALL (1948). Scott does precious little to inject energy into THE RACKET. Another weakness is the reporter Dave Ames (Robert Hutton), a character that seems to have been tacked on somewhere in the course of the project's development.

As film noir as it gets

Lawmen dismantle laughably untrue political marketing

Giants of RKO

The dual-layered Blu-ray edition of THE RACKET available from Warner Archive delivers a newly remastered transfer from a 4K scan of the original nitrate negative. Framed at 1.37:1, the Blu-ray content looks more than adequate in motion, with minimal artifacts. I do think contrast looks a little soft, but this gripe is minor. The audio commentary track by film noir authority Eddie Mueller must be experienced in Standard Definition for whatever reason. It was carried over from Warner's 2006 DVD edition and remains a great listen. Mueller explains that Sam Fuller's original script made the Captain McQuigg character too flawed for Hughes's liking. The studio boss Hughes sought a more uncomplicated approach to the material. His productions often exhibited an impoverished look, as is evidenced by this mostly minimalist set design. He also had a tendency to tinker in the editing room a great deal more than any other studio head, to the point he sometimes introduced inconsistencies into the final cut. In a departure from the original material, Robert Ryan's Nick Scanlon embodies the man of violence who is about to be phased out. His methods of problem-solving have become increasingly detrimental to an outfit meant to blend in with legal business endeavors. The opening segment that features Les Tremayne as crime commission lead Harry Craig was an exposition scene added at the request of Hughes.

The only other supplement is a theatrical trailer (1m 7s) that sports serious damage.




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