ON DANGEROUS GROUND (1951)

RKO Radio Pictures, 81m 55s

A profoundly moving noir story of redemption, ON DANGEROUS GROUND is a title textured with multiple meanings. On a surface level, it alludes to the various settings that form the backdrop for the drama. But on a more crucial level, it references the precarious position of Jim Wilson (Robert Ryan), a temperamental cop who is in an uncertain place mentally. Wilson's police work is characterized by the same type of tough-guy tactics that would be utilized famously by Harry Callahan (Clint Eastwood) in the DIRTY HARRY film series, and any number of similar rough-around-the-edges movie cops who bend the rules. All such policemen justify their methods with results, to the chagrin of their more progressive superiors, who must be concerned about the general public's perception of the police force. Even Wilson's colleagues Pete Santos (Anthony Ross) and Pop Daly (Charles Kemper) agree Wilson needs to tone down his behavior. The pivotal scene of on-the-job violence has a sexual charge to it; Wilson appears to get a perverse thrill from beating information out of suspect Bernie Tucker (Richard Irving). "Alright Bernie, we're alone now," Wilson says with a peculiar sense of satisfaction.

Another key sequence reveals the kinder side of Wilson, when he allows time for a brief street football game with the local paperboy (Leslie Bennett). A former star high school football player, Wilson lives by himself in a small studio apartment, the kind where cooking utensils are not far from the bed. His living arrangement puts him in complete contrast with both Santos and Daly, whose families clearly enrich their private lives. The deeply embittered loner Wilson has been on the force eleven years and has grown to resent the day-to-day grind, surrounded by people who do not like cops. He is not a bad man as much as he is the product of a poor environment. After a sustained working-over from Wilson leaves the thug Tucker with a ruptured bladder (according to the suspect's attorney, anyway), Wilson finds himself in hot water with Captain Brawley (Ed Begley). With Wilson's easily-lit fuse perhaps leading to "another civil suit," Brawley sends his problematic charge on a rural case upstate. Though the opening credits roll over rain-drenched city streets where cop killers remain on the loose, ON DANGEROUS GROUND closes somewhere completely different, in terms of both setting and the lead protagonist's frame of mind.

At first anyway, the change of scenery does not permit Wilson any time for reassessment. Walter Brent (Ward Bond) is on the trail of the disturbed young man (Sumner Williams) who killed his daughter. Now it is Wilson who must act as the controlled voice of reason, since Brent is prepared to avenge his daughter's death with however many shotgun blasts he deems necessary. The irate father Brent is similar to Wilson in that he trusts no one. While the impetuous men are in pursuit of the suspect, a disorienting car crash leads to a light that signifies the narrative's critical turning point. The light is inside the home of Mary Malden (Ida Lupino), an angelic figure positioned as Wilson's potential savior. The Malden/Wilson encounter in a remote country home recalls a strikingly similar sequence in BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN (1935), where the monster (Boris Karloff) stumbles upon a blind hermit (O.P. Heggie). Like the monstrous creation, Wilson is inclined to distrust others, and like the blind man, Malden must "trust everybody." Malden speaks in a calm tone that immediately seems the antithesis of Wilson, or perhaps his antidote.

The second act of ON DANGEROUS GROUND allows both Robert Ryan and Ida Lupino to deliver emotionally gripping performances. In respect to film noir conventions, it comes as little wonder that Malden resides in a rural location, far removed from the tawdriness of big city living on full display in the first act. The degradation of urban life is reinforced by the city’s peripheral female characters, all of whom contribute to Wilson's sense of alienation in some fashion. An underage barfly (Nita Talbot) challenges Wilson's authority, the bruised Myrna Bowers (Cleo Moore) brings out his dark side and the nice girl Hazel (Joan Taylor) has no interest in dating a cop. In contrast to her quite durable urban counterparts, Mary Malden embodies the (admittedly clichéd) fragility of woman, always vulnerable without strong male protection. This trait is best exemplified when the outraged father Brent comes disconcertingly close to striking the completely defenseless Malden.

Like the prior year's WHERE THE SIDEWALK ENDS (1950), another notable noir to feature an overly tough cop, ON DANGEROUS GROUND advocates conservative values with redemption through the union of man and woman, each half empty without the other. On a traditional family level, the father Brent, the matriarchal figure Malden and her "just a kid" brother Danny combine to redeem Wilson. As for Wilson's checkered past as a disillusioned lawman, it might be argued that no great injustice had been done to those he punished, given the playground around which Wilson had to romp. To a great extent, ON DANGEROUS GROUND blames the city’s criminals and common lowlifes for the manifestation of Wilson's dark side. Ultimately devoted to Malden, his self-removal from the urban milieu effectively exonerates him from any past transgressions. The conclusion also dovetails nicely with the opening segments that establish the importance of the traditional family.

British novelist Gerald Butler wrote the source novel MAD WITH MUCH HEART, first published in 1945. A.I. Bezzerides adapted the novel for the screen, with help from the film's acclaimed director Nicholas Ray. Bezzerides also wrote the source material that inspired THEY DRIVE BY NIGHT (1940), both the novel and screen adaptation for THIEVES' HIGHWAY (1949) and the screenplay for the great KISS ME DEADLY (1955), based on a novel by Mickey Spillane. The character Jim Wilson stands alongside other male protagonists in Ray films who seem cut off from society, i.e. Bowie (Farley Granger) in THEY LIVE BY NIGHT (1948), Dixon Steele (Humphrey Bogart) from IN A LONELY PLACE (1950), Jim Stark (James Dean) in REBEL WITHOUT A CAUSE (1955). Cinematographer George E. Diskant also lensed the Ray-directed film noirs THEY LIVE BY NIGHT and A WOMAN'S SECRET (1949). Whether the background is a studio set or location footage in Colorado, Diskant handles the situation effectively, particularly when disorienting hand-held camerawork is involved.

Among the most venerated film noirs for good reason, ON DANGEROUS GROUND is well presented by the dual-layered Blu-ray edition available via Warner Archive. Based on a 2016 remaster, the transfer observes the original theatrical aspect ratio of 1.37:1, and the thunderous score by Bernard Herrmann sounds terrific. The audio commentary by Glenn Erickson, first made available on the Warner DVD released in 2006, provides a rundown of the numerous alterations that were applied to ON DANGEROUS GROUND during its almost two-year stretch on the shelf at RKO, which was not unusual under the leadership of Howard Hughes. Good or bad, Hughes’s tinkering proved to be of little help to the film’s delayed release; ON DANGEROUS GROUND lost $450K at the box office and was received coldly by critics. Erickson builds a solid case that the most similar film to ON DANGEROUS GROUND is director Martin Scorsese's TAXI DRIVER (1976), probably the finest of revisionist noir films that emerged in the 1970s. A theatrical trailer (2m 10s) is the only other supplement.

TOMORROW IS ANOTHER DAY (1951)

Warner Bros., 90m 51s

A rightful favorite of film noir aficionados, TOMORROW IS ANOTHER DAY sympathizes with its featured protagonist from pillar to post. Alienated lead male characters are common noir sightings, but Bill Clark (Steve Cochran) stands out in the crowd. At the outset, the 32-year-old is about to be released from prison, where he has resided since the shockingly young age of 13. In other words, Clark has been behind bars throughout the years most of us treasure most. "18 years, three months and six days," Clark laments in explicit detail. The warden (Harry Antrim) tries to prepare Clark for the reality that life will be no cakewalk on the outside, where a generation has grown up without him. True enough, the newly free Clark notices plenty of change since his freedom as a youth. Cars have a new look, fashion has changed, beer tastes odd, and prices have gone up. A local proprietor has long passed. Worst of all, a predatory reporter (John Kellogg) wastes no time making an exploitative story out of Clark, who consequently has little choice but to move on.

Clark relocates to New York City, where a dance hall catches his eye. Inside he meets Catherine "Cay" Higgins (Ruth Roman, top-billed), who gets the proper legs-first femme fatale introduction (though she is glimpsed a little earlier, sizing up the new man in town Clark). The pay-for-a-dance girl Higgins looks and sounds like trouble, but Clark is lonely and convinces Higgins to be his big city tour guide. While the two enjoy the view of the city from above, Higgins expresses the common sentiment about film noir urban locales when she comments, "...you live in one trap and work in another." The modest trap she lives in is financed by Detective Lt. George Conover (Hugh Sanders), who surprises Higgins with his presence after she brings Clark inside her apartment for the first time. A tense discussion leads to a tussle that ends in a shooting, which impacts everything that happens subsequently for Higgins and Clark, who form an uneasy alliance.

From the instant Clark encounters Higgins, the confirmed film noir addict must assume this guy would be wise to look elsewhere for female companionship. Ensuing events after the apartment shooting seem to confirm this notion. In the film's dramatic turning point, Higgins realizes she knows more about the shooting than Clark, and can use that information to her advantage. As the camera closes in on the Higgins character in a terrifically cinematic moment, the viewer is encouraged to share the conflicting thoughts running wild in her mind. This is the moment film noir expert Eddie Muller refers to as "the break." The character under scrutiny has an opportunity to make a moral decision, but instead elects an immoral choice (and by implication, so do we). The fateful matchup of Higgins and Clark leads them to grueling work at a California lettuce farm, where they attempt to blend in under new identities (another noir staple). Of course, past transgressions very seldom go without consequences in the film noir, and a strong sense of paranoia builds within Clark as he questions his ability to merge into his surroundings.

Though perhaps not in quite the same league as THEY LIVE BY NIGHT (1948) or GUN CRAZY (1950), TOMORROW IS ANOTHER DAY deserves to be in the same discussion of socially conscious couple-on-the-run treatments. Director Felix E. Feist understands how to create suspense, as he had proven beyond a doubt in THE DEVIL THUMBS A RIDE (1947) and THE THREAT (1949). Cinematography was handled by Robert Burks, who frequently collaborated with Alfred Hitchcock, i.e. STRANGERS ON A TRAIN (1951), REAR WINDOW (1954) and VERTIGO (1958). The highlight of TOMORROW IS ANOTHER DAY is probably the dancehall segment that comes early in the narrative, which is staged effectively to play up the appeal of the blonde temptress Higgins and the alienated loner Clark. A perhaps equally impressive sequence occurs when the couple hitches a ride on a trailer of new automobiles without the truck driver's knowledge. Not sure whether to credit Feist or the screenwriting co-authored by Art Cohn and Guy Endore (from a story by Endore) for the moment when Clark is listening to a radio announcer celebrate the achievement of Mozart before the composer reached the age of 14. For a man who was imprisoned at the age of 13, what a demoralizing thing to have to hear! In another interesting segment of social commentary, Higgins contrasts the dignity of working class people with prison life, where Clark never had to worry about his next meal. Clark questions how she could understand what it was like to be incarcerated, and whether firsthand knowledge might be forthcoming if she is not careful. Also of interest is the fact that redemption is found in an agrarian society, far from the impersonal city streets of New York.

Even if the conclusion seems wrapped up a little too neatly, it nonetheless reflects the film's optimistic title that suggests people deserve second chances. Neither Clark nor Higgins is a great catch, yet the two make one of the most compelling couples in the world of noir, a pair of down-and-outers who are impossible not to like. I really admire the fact that Clark is not driven by greed, like so many flawed noir protagonists. He just wants to get by on a day-to-day basis. Notable noir tough guy Steve Cochran turns in an impressive performance as a man in his early thirties who has spent the bulk of his life incarcerated. Here Cochran is far more sympathetic than he is in some of the other film noirs in which he appeared, such as THE CHASE (1946), WHITE HEAT (1949) and HIGHWAY 301 (1950). Especially for a man who was such a noted womanizer, Cochran's clumsy dance moves and bungled attempt to make a play for Roman's character are surprisingly convincing. I always have adored the talented Ruth Roman, whose subtle beauty in this case transfers from sexy blonde to unassuming brunette.

The MOD DVD available via Warner Archive presents a scan of film elements in acceptable but unspectacular condition, with artifacts persistent throughout the presentation. The aspect ratio of 1.35:1 differs slightly from the original theatrical scope of 1.37:1. This would be a splendid addition to one of several boutique labels who specialize in this sort of thing.

THE KILLER IS LOOSE (1956)

United Artists, 73m 8s

By the mid-1950s, film noir was 10 years removed from the stylized compositions that marked the ominous tone of the classic years. Exaggerated shadows and oblique camera angles had given way to a more naturalistic approach to the crime film. The 1950s would become noted for police procedurals in the vein of the popular television series DRAGNET. THE KILLER IS LOOSE fits that category to be sure, though it is far more fascinating as a character study of its hopelessly unbalanced criminal Leon Poole (Wendell Corey). Though not an exercise in noir style, THE KILLER IS LOOSE treads noir water through the anatomization of its escaped killer Leon, with an emphasis on the mental anguish that motivates his behavior. Leon is one of film noir's walking dead, a man with nothing to lose driven mad by a traumatic past.

Though Leon plays the role of meek bank teller, it is quickly ascertained he is a heist team member also. As local law enforcement officials converge on Leon's modest dwelling, his wife Doris (Martha Crawford, uncredited) is shot dead mistakenly by Detective Sam Wagner (Joseph Cotten). For his crucial part in an inside job, Leon receives multiple ten-year sentences to brood in prison, where he will think only of vengeance. If he lost his wife, why should the man behind her death get to keep his? By any means necessary, Leon is determined to do away with Sam's pregnant wife Lila (Rhonda Fleming, some 18 years the junior of Joseph Cotten, and it is painfully evident).

After three years of good behavior brings Leon to low-security farm labor, his revenge mission reveals a callous attitude toward his fellow man. First prisoner number 791181 violently commandeers a cargo truck by way of a detached hoe blade, next he opportunistically employs a sickle to eliminate (off-screen, thankfully) the world’s most unfortunate farmer. As Leon prepares to deal with the unseen farmer, an approaching thunderstorm accompanies his dark thoughts. It is a tense scene that strongly suggests meal-oriented police officers like Denny (Alan Hale Jr.) will struggle to contain the wrath of Leon.

Like THE BLUE DAHLIA (1946), HIGH WALL (1947), THE CROOKED WAY (1949) and ACT OF VIOLENCE (1949), THE KILLER IS LOOSE is another noir narrative that features a veteran with some type of deficiency. Vision is Leon's major physical limitation. Dependent on bifocals, his nearsightedness is put on display at regular intervals. When we first meet Leon, he is stuck waiting on Otto Flanders (John Larch), who served as Leon's sergeant in the military. "Otto used to make my life miserable," Leon bitterly admits. Otto condescendingly tagged the clumsy, vision-impaired Leon with the nickname "Foggy" and still refers to him by that name (not knowing when to stop ensures Otto’s demise). Leon discloses he was treated similarly by insensitive schoolmates, so in truth the origin of his malaise lies not in war, but childhood trauma. Leon's wife was the lone person in his life who never laughed at him, who never made him feel unimportant. None of this should let Leon off the hook entirely though, since he is indeed a murderer of innocents. He even kills a man whose wife stands nearby! Nonetheless, THE KILLER IS LOOSE forces one to consider the psychology of its killer in a Freudian sense. The obvious message is a timeless one:  the most thoughtless among us ostracize people who are harmlessly different and thus help manufacture mentally challenged cases like Leon.

Director Budd Boetticher builds suspense admirably in this fast-moving revenge story, adapted for the screen by Harold Medford from a story by John Hawkins and Ward Hawkins (THE SATURDAY EVENING POST, June 13th, 1953). Best remembered for his Westerns that starred Randolph Scott, Boetticher is not known for his contributions to the film noir genre, though he did direct BEHIND LOCKED DOORS (1948), a notable entry. THE KILLER IS LOOSE is precisely the type of B production noir fans crave. Though it lacks the classic look of '40s noir, it is not without prevailing noir themes and motifs, as when heavy rainfall accents the final act. But more than anything else, this movie's noir credentials are established by its quirky villain.

Wendell Corey, so effective as the lead protagonist in HELL'S HALF ACRE (1954), offers a well-controlled performance as Leon, a dangerously disturbed man who is not entirely unsympathetic. Corey is chilling when he stares at Fleming after his character’s sentence is declared. The Leon character has a definite antecedent in Eddie Miller (Arthur Franz), the unhinged veteran and killer of Edward Dmytryk's outstanding film noir THE SNIPER (1952). The strong suggested violence of THE KILLER IS LOOSE may have its origin in WITHOUT WARNING! (1952), in which Carl Martin (Adam Williams) disposes of his victims with garden shears. In terms of influence on films that would come later, the basic template of THE KILLER IS LOOSE anticipates CAPE FEAR (1962), the more famous film about a man after the family of the man he believes wronged him. And when a stalking Leon impersonates a woman near the end of THE KILLER IS LOOSE, he may have been the inspiration for one of the more strikingly violent sequences built around Max Cady (Robert De Niro) in the neonoir CAPE FEAR (1991), the Martin Scorsese-helmed remake of the 1962 version. The docile looking, borderline feminine Leon also predates two of the most famous movie killers who would change the face of horror forever:  Norman Bates (Anthony Perkins) from PSYCHO (1960) and Mark Lewis (Karlheinz Böhm) from PEEPING TOM (1960).

The single-layered Blu-ray disc available from ClassicFlix may be the only credible version of THE KILLER IS LOOSE available for purchase. The feature presentation looks to have been scanned from stellar source material, framed at the intended theatrical scope of 1.85:1. Though void of supplementary material, the inexpensive disc is a worthy add.

The theatrical poster tagline that reads, “The story of a cop who used his wife as bait for a killer!” does not reflect the plot mechanics accurately.

RAW DEAL (1948)

Eagle-Lion Films, 78m 35s

Faced with the annoying prospect of another three years behind bars before a parole hearing, Joe Sullivan (Dennis O'Keefe in an impressive turn) narrowly escapes from the state penitentiary with the support of his girlfriend Pat Regan (Claire Trevor). After their getaway vehicle is slowed by prison guard gunfire, the two seek shelter at the residence of Joe's caseworker Ann Martin (Marsha Hunt). Familiar film noir visual treatments symbolically entrap Joe in Ann's home, where imprisoning shadows cast by venetian blinds cause one to question whether Joe has found freedom. That same sense of enclosure will travel with him in this compelling noir road movie.

RAW DEAL challenges film noir character types in its tightly-drawn story of an escaped convict and two females. Somewhat surprisingly to the first-time viewer, the film is as concerned about its female characters as it is its male lead, perhaps even more so. It transcends the reinforcement of female archetypes routinely associated with a genre well known for its vampish women and their good girl opposites. RAW DEAL evinces the complexity of fragmented human personalities, as well as the profound impact one person may have on another, especially when least expected.

Claire Trevor is a strikingly beautiful woman who looks like nobody else, but there is nothing ornamental about her role in this Eagle-Lion Films production. In fact it is implied Pat is the lead protagonist, not the male character Joe. She is the first person we meet, and we even briefly see from her perspective after the opening credits roll. The rivalry between the two major females is annunciated during the opening prison visitation segment, when Pat is shifted to the darkness after she is told her man Joe already has a visitor. The composition that suddenly converts Pat into a silhouette sets the stage for the remainder of a film noir that shows an unusual degree of partisanship toward its bad girl. Pat's narration both opens and closes the film, and the persistence of that narration consistently informs the tone. The argument that Pat is the lead protagonist is validated best by her increasing noir sense of paranoia that she has lost Joe to Ann. Even in the early going, the presence of Ann causes Pat to question Joe's feelings for her. Like the fugitive portrayed by Whit Bissell, who destroyed the person he loved, Pat essentially does the same thing when she sends Joe to Ann's rescue in the final act. More than anything else, RAW DEAL emphasizes how the events of the story impact Pat, and that it is her sensibilities that decide the film's conclusion. RAW DEAL adopts her viewpoint via not only her narration but sustained reaction shots that stress her feeling of unease and encourage the audience to feel for her.

Ann is an idealistic brunette whose perfume bewitches Joe. She is set up as a more positive influence on Joe than Pat, the blonde from the mean streets cloaked in black. Ann researched Joe's past enough to discover he was commended for his moral character as a youth. She still sees his potential to be a good man. Not long after Joe's escape from incarceration, Ann sits in the front seat of a vehicle conspicuously between Pat and Joe as the three try to evade a police dragnet. An emotional turning point occurs for Ann when she recognizes Joe was prepared to kill a park ranger rather than be discovered. Thoroughly disgusted, Ann predicts Joe's inevitable demise after witnessing his telling look of self preservation. But an even more crucial defining moment transpires when Ann shoots Joe's would-be attacker, and thus authenticates her capacity to kill. She may not have eliminated her target, but she is forced to wrestle with the idea she is not as different from Joe and his kind as she would like to have believed. As she endeavors to distance herself from the criminal lifestyle embodied by Joe and Pat, Ann delivers a speech that amounts to a declaration of old-fashioned working class principles. Despite such posturing, in the very next scene she confirms her affiliation with Joe is legit.

If RAW DEAL sees Joe and his female admirers in shades of gray, San Francisco-based villain Rick Coyle (Raymond Burr) is outlined in pure black and white. The uncompromising boss character may as well be known as "Big Rick" given the many low camera angles that accentuate his stout frame. Joe wound up in prison after taking the rap for Rick, who owes Joe fifty grand. Rick unsurprisingly has no intention of coughing up that kind of cash; instead he helps facilitate Joe's prison exit under the mathematically solid assumption that Joe would be shot dead. When that does not play out, Rick puts pressure on his in-house thugs Fantail (John Ireland) and Spider (Curt Conway) to assist in bringing down Joe. Rick is introduced properly when he uses his cigarette lighter to playfully inflame Spider's ear. For the remainder of the narrative the neurotic personality Rick will be associated with fire. In the most disturbing example of that connection, he pitches a flaming cherries jubilee at fun-loving blonde Marcy (Chili Williams). The viewer is treated to her perspective. This scene predates the similar but far more famous hot coffee sequence from THE BIG HEAT (1953). In another instance of Rick's use of fire to keep women under control, a stone-faced Rick threatens Ann with his cigarette lighter (the ensuing torture sequence occurs off camera). In a brief moment of assumed triumph, Rick lights candles when he believes Joe has been executed. That celebration is short-lived, as a room engulfed in flames mocks Rick's decisively downward trajectory. As for Joe, in contrast to the "poor slob" of a murderer who by all counts deserved his fate, Joe earns our sympathy after his confrontation with the irredeemable man who betrayed him. As both men lie physically defeated, the women survive a little wiser, both having acknowledged sides of themselves they had not accessed prior to Joe's prison break.

As was typical of the genre in the late 1940s, this noir film combines the influence of German Expressionism with the documentary realism movement of the time. Director of photography John Alton’s location footage in California includes San Quentin State Prison, Chatsworth, Pacific Coast Highway and Westward Beach, but as usual, his most evocative coverage involves dimly lit interior settings. Alton's work darkly shines within the rural home of Oscar (Harry Tyler), where the great potential of black & white cinematography cannot be disputed. The sequence in the taxidermy shop is equally well conceived. RAW DEAL belongs on any list of film noirs that do not depend on a primarily urban setting.

The culmination of 400 hours of restorative work, this ClassicFlix release marks the Blu-ray debut of RAW DEAL, and the third ClassicFlix restoration to celebrate the team of producer Edward Small, director Anthony Mann and ace cinematographer John Alton. This film was not quite the box office triumph of their prior effort T-MEN (1947), but profitable nonetheless. A 2K resolution transfer of a 35mm nitrate fine grain element, RAW DEAL now looks better than a B film of its vintage probably has a right. Framing is at 1.33:1 (the original theatrical aspect ratio was 1.37:1 according to IMDb.com). There are no issues with the uncompressed mono soundtrack.

Supplemental material includes an audio commentary track by film historian Jeremy Arnold, who posits Anthony Mann made choices as a filmmaker that subtly work on the viewer, without that person necessarily being aware of it. Arnold reveals the original story "Corkscrew Alley" by Audrey Ashley and Arnold B. Armstrong differed considerably from the screen treatment ultimately devised by screenwriters Leopold Atlas and John C. Higgins. Changes to their screenplay were recommended by Hays Code enforcer Joseph Breen, who observed little redeeming moral value in the concept. The scenes that featured policemen were requested by Breen, and those scenes seem to be of less importance to Mann. Arnold also identifies the use of the theremin by composer Paul Sawtell to highlight tense moments. Sawtell scored an immense list of gritty film noirs, including THE DEVIL THUMBS A RIDE (1947), BORN TO KILL (1947), DESPERATE (1947), T-MEN (1947), WALK A CROOKED MILE (1948), BODYGUARD (1948), THE THREAT (1949), ROADBLOCK (1951) and KANSAS CITY CONFIDENTIAL (1952).

A couple of worthy little featurettes cover a lot of ground in short order. "Deadly is the Male:  The Making of Raw Deal" (9m 6s) gathers estimable film historians Julie Kirgo, Courtney Joyner and Alan K. Rode for an instructive discussion of the film's production history and the contributors who made it possible. "Dennis O’Keefe:  An Extraordinary Ordinary Guy" (5m 39s) features Jim O’Keefe, who reviews his father's career in the entertainment business. There is an image gallery loaded with an assortment of publicity stills and posters, and a split-screen comparison (5m 30s) that highlights the tremendous restorative work that went into this now definitive version of RAW DEAL. The expected assortment of trailers is available, and the Blu-ray case holds a 24-page booklet essay by author Max Alvarez (THE CRIME FILMS OF ANTHONY MANN [2013]) complete with stills, posters and assorted production material.

According to their website, ClassicFlix produced only 5,000 copies of this collectible Blu-ray. Film noir enthusiasts should consider this a mandatory purchase.

ACT OF VIOLENCE (1949)

Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 82m 5s

This airtight film noir develops an unsettling premise that pits an obsessed loner against a devoted family man. As the showdown begins, a man with a persistent limp grabs a handgun and a small handbag before he boards a Greyhound bus bound for Los Angeles. That man is Joe Parkson (Robert Ryan), and most certainly he is a determined man with a singular purpose. When he disembarks the bus out West, his progress is slowed by a Memorial Day parade of marching veterans. That interruption nicely sets up the story of a disenfranchised soldier whose life has stalled since WWII. Cut to Frank R. Enley (Van Heflin), flanked by his wife Edith (Janet Leigh) and young son Georgie. Enley is positioned as the polar opposite of Parkson. A commanding officer during the war, today Enley is a beloved man, honored for his involvement in the recent completion of a housing project. He then heads out of town for a fishing excursion, but abruptly returns home when he learns a fella with a limp is on his trail. Edith wants some simple answers as to what is going on, but her husband offers nothing of the sort:

"Edith, a lot of things happened in the war that you wouldn't understand. Why should you? I don't understand them myself."

After Enley returns from his aborted fishing trip, never again is he shown in the high-key lighting that characterizes his introductory sequence. Darkness will follow him relentlessly throughout the remainder of the narrative.

Like many other film noirs of the 1940s, ACT OF VIOLENCE questions the status of the war hero in post-war America. More specifically, can a man who experienced the horrors of military conflict ever return to a civilian existence? From the time Enley realizes his past is closing in on him, he becomes an edgy, paranoid mess that has obvious parallels to a film industry under HUAC scrutiny. His dark past concerns his role in an emotionally stirring event that involved atrocities committed against POWs in Nazi Germany. Enley and Parkson were confined to the same prison camp during the war, and Enley made a decision that precipitated US soldier casualties. Despite a loving family and an upstanding reputation in the community, Enley is as cornered as any noir protagonist to be condemned by a past transgression. There are things from which we cannot move on, there are broken things that cannot be fixed.

ACT OF VIOLENCE is among the most haunting film noirs that sprout from a tragic past that cannot be undone. Van Heflin is outstanding as Enley, a selfish heel masquerading as a selfless hero. A versatile actor, Van Heflin portrayed other noir heels convincingly in POSSESSED (1947) and THE PROWLER (1951). Robert Ryan is equally well cast in the role of the trenchcoat stalker Parkson, who is curt with everyone he encounters as he concentrates fully on his mission of vengeance. I love the way Parkson laughs at the idea of backing off in return for Enley's net business worth. Unlike Enley, Parkson cannot be bought. The Parkson character anticipates the volatile Max Cady (Robert Mitchum) from CAPE FEAR (1962).

Director Fred Zinnemann displays a tremendous eye for details that enhance the drama, as when Parkson, so anxious to confront Enley, opens the taxi door before the vehicle stops in front of the Enley home. Later it is Enley who cannot wait for his taxi to stop completely. Such behavior reflects the pervasiveness of the noir atmosphere, which is not limited to urban locales. Here the (fictitious) small town of Santa Lisa meets sudden disruption that will have a lasting impact on one of its key families. The suburban setting aside, the most distinctly noir visual schemes transpire with Enley facing alienation in a massive environment of alleys, stairways and city streets. It is one of the best "on the run" sequences of the noir canon, lensed by director of photography Robert Surtees in the Bunker Hill section of LA. That sequence brings Enley to Pat (Mary Astor), a prostitute in semi-retirement who factors in Enley's redemption.

The filmmakers are not content to stop with strong imagery, either. Various sound effects heighten Enley's feeling of entrapment, especially at his own home, where the sound of Parkson limping outside the place is creepy indeed. Also at the homestead, an alarm clock impersonates a ticking time bomb, while a swinging pendulum fulfills a similar function. Wind whips ominously through the city streets, and inside a large road tunnel, Enley succumbs to inescapable guilt as he cries out in desperation. The road tunnel sequence alludes to the unseen tunnel debacle in which American soldiers were slaughtered by Nazis. In both instances, cries go without an answer. After an appropriate buildup, the film delivers the type of conclusion best reserved for the film noir. The screenplay was written by Robert L. Richards (THE LAST CROOKED MILE [1946]), who adapted the story by Collier Young (THE HITCH-HIKER [1953], PRIVATE HELL 36 [1954]).

A must-see film noir, ACT OF VIOLENCE is readily available on DVD through Warner Archive. I presume it is the identical disc included with FILM NOIR CLASSIC COLLECTION VOL. 4, released by Warner in 2007, which was the basis for this review. The DVD includes the groundbreaking MYSTERY STREET (1950), another unique and fascinating film noir, along with multiple commentary tracks, featurettes and theatrical trailers.