#37: T-Men (Anthony Mann, 1947)

Released: December 15, 1947

Director: Anthony Mann; Screenplay: John C. Higgins based on a story by Virginia Kellogg; Cinematography: John Alton; Music: Paul Sawtell; Producer: Aubrey Schenk; Studio: Eagle-Lion Films

Cast: Dennis O’Keefe (Dennis O’Brien), Mary Meade (Evangeline), Alfred Ryder (Tony Genaro), Wallace Ford (The Schemer), June Lockhart (Mary Genaro), Charles McGraw (Moxie), Jane Randolph (Diana Simpson), Art Smith (Gregg)

I understand that I’m likely taking another minority position here, but T-Men remains my favorite noir that the dynamic duo of Anthony Mann and cinematographer John Alton ever produced. Raw Deal looks spectacular, as I said in my review, quite possibly the quintessential low budget noir in terms of visuals. But T-Men is the one that I continually return to when I reach for a Mann noir. It is far from a perfect film – in fact, I have one serious issue with the entire production, which I might as well get to right up front. The narration is completely unnecessary, adding a cheesy element that unfortunately dates everything. It would have been even more successful if Mann had managed to shun some of the more conventional police procedural devices – narration and an introduction by Harry Anslinger – but even with such a major complaint, I have no problem labeling this one a masterpiece. The reason that I can do this is that the voice-overs are so superfluous, so detached from the narrative, that the movie works perfectly fine without them. They could be completely removed and nothing would be lost. So I choose to simply ignore them, appreciate the brilliance of the many other elements, and savor this film that put the Mann-Alton team on the map.


T-Men follows the subterranean journey of two Treasury agents who go deep undercover to bust a large-scale counterfeiting ring. Posing as longtime knockaround guys, O’Brien (Dennis O’Keefe) and Genaro (Alfred Ryder) get close to the powerful Vantucci mob in Detroit, using these connections to then move to Los Angeles and get close to the home of the counterfeiting operations. In L.A. they meet a semi-legitimate man known as the Schemer (Wallace Ford) who appears to be at the center of the ring. O’Brien and Genaro both take heat in trying to get close to group, being roughed up and interrogated by Vantucci hoods in order to make sure that they are not agents or stool pigeons. Both men hold up under the strain, which gets them even closer to the gang. Using fake plates and papers provided by the Treasury Department, O’Brien proves that the duo have the resources to be players. But the deeper that the two are pulled into the operation, the more murkier become. Slip-ups and unfortunate coincidences make it increasingly dangerous for the agents and ultimately lead them to deadly showdowns.

Like great undercover movies that have been made since, what T-Men does effectively is blur the line between agents and criminals. It is obvious that O’Brien and Genaro remain on right side of the law, but in order to survive in the underworld they are forced to adopt the outlook and actions of true hoods. This creates interesting scenarios where they are forced to act less as lawmen and more as the criminals they are pretending to be. Things that would have likely been unthinkable to them before they went undercover – spurning a wife, roughing people up, standing by and allowing a murder to take place because to do otherwise would lead to even more killing – are things that they have no choice but to do. The entire film really has a surprisingly vicious quality. Charles McGraw is brutal as the enforcer Moxie, and when he confronts Schemer in a Turkish bath the result is one of the most memorable assassinations in all of noir.


The storyline is the perfect fit for the styles of Mann and Alton. The deeper that O’Brien and Genaro are plunged into the underworld, the darker that Mann and Alton make their surroundings. Alton could do more with less light than anybody I have ever seen. Here and in Raw Deal, it looks like he walked on set with a basic lamp and household light bulb and used this as the only light source in either film. What makes this so impressive is how shrewd he was in placement of light, making the contrasts stark and the shadows downright menacing. Alton and Mann were also masters of camera placement, increasing tension in a scene simply by clever positioning. Just watch scenes like O’Brien trying to surreptitiously recover a counterfeiting plate from under a sink while a hood stands on the other side washing his hands. The camera sits at a low angle, staring directly at the sink, allowing the audience to watch both the frantic movements of O’Brien’s hands under the sink and the action taking place above it. Even more impressive to me is the scene in the Turkish bath, where Schemer’s death is filmed entirely through a port hole in the door.

I know that over the course of the countdown, some folks have remarked that voice-overs like those featured in T-Men are too much for them to take. For the most part, it’s not that I can’t take them, but I agree that they are usually completely unnecessary. I just hope that people can get past it in this case and appreciate what an outstanding movie lays under the voice-overs. It is a truly great film and an important one in the history of noir.

#39: Raw Deal (Anthony Mann, 1948)

Released: May 26, 1948

Director: Anthony Mann; Screenplay: Leopold Atlas and John C. Higgins based on a story by Arnold B. Armstrong and Audrey Ashley; Cinematography: John Alton; Music: Paul Sawtell; Producer: Edward Small; Studio: Eagle-Lion Films

Cast: Dennis O’Keefe (Joe Sullivan), Claire Trevor (Pat Cameron), Marsha Hunt (Ann Martin), John Ireland (Fantail), Raymond Burr (Rick Coyle), Curt Conway (Spider), Chili Williams (Marcy), Regis Toomey (Police Capt. Fields), Whit Bissell (Murderer), Cliff Clark (Gates)

Raw Deal has to be the archetype for how a truly great low-budget film noir should look. I hesitate to say the prototype for how _any_ film noir looks, because there is definitely a different feel to the John Alton cinematography here as compared to something like equally remarkable work from Nicholas Musuraca or John Seitz in larger scale productions. That gritty, shoestring budget look is part of the appeal, though. Realizing how Alton and director Anthony Mann manage to get such striking results in creating a world where everything is at least partially shrouded might actually be more impressive. Everything feels covered by a shadow, creating an almost insufferably claustrophobic atmosphere. Put simply, in all of its low budget glory, it looks spectacular. It’s the kind of film that should be put on late at night, without a single light on, so as to savor the deep darks and slivers of light that Alton judiciously allows to creep onto the screen.


Fortunately, the visuals are not the only reason to appreciate Raw Deal. There are also some very good performances. Dennis O’Keefe – who a year earlier was cast as an undercover hero in Mann’s T-Men – shows his versatility here in playing a manipulative antihero. He is Joe Sullivan, a prisoner who took the fall for gang higher-ups, who badly wants out of prison. Unable to wait for lawyer's assistant Ann Martin (Marsha Hunt) to legally press his appeal, Joe uses girlfriend Pat Cameron (Claire Trevor) to bust him out of jail. Now understanding that he was framed to take the fall by crime boss Rick Coyle (Raymond Burr), he vows revenge. Stopping at the unsuspecting Ann’s home after his escape, and feeling heat from police in the process, Joe decides that he can’t leave Ann behind to alert the authorities. So he brings her along for the ride, creating instant tension between longtime girlfriend Pat and his new love interest. Ann wants no part of Joe’s plotting and continually urges him to turn himself in, but gradually even she is won completely by Joe. As the struggle between Joe and Rick intensifies, she is eventually driven to perform acts she never thought possible.

The role reversal is interesting, as there is no femme fatale to spur the action. The closest approximation to such a character is actually O’Keefe’s Joe, who is proves to be irresistible to Ann, eventually leading her to murder. Joe maintains at least some redeeming qualities, though, as he eventually realizes that Ann deserves much better than a life on the run with him. I’ll make another bold statement now, too, in declaring that this is the finest work I’ve ever seen from Claire Trevor. I know that she won an Academy Award this same year for Key Largo, but here she is perfect as the worn out gun moll. She recognizes that she has just one last shot at happiness with Joe and feels it slipping away as Joe and Ann grow increasingly closer. She is too loyal, too attached to Joe, to simply walk away.


This was only the second film that Mann and Alton worked together and this is arguably their greatest effort. There are some individual scenes that are so memorable that I can replay them over and over in my mind. The prison break, with Joe sticking close to the perimeter wall as guards fire down from a nearby tower. Or Joe’s surreptitious entry into Ann’s apartment, startling her as she slowly peers through the darkness to realize that the man she visited in prison just the day before is staring down at her. Or maybe the best is the concluding showdown between Rick and Joe, with the two duking it out as fire rages all around them.

It pains me to see such an outstanding film at #39, but I can’t find any way to move it up considering what sits ahead of it. This is no slight. It is one of Mann’s best and a superb example of doing more with less.

#53: Woman on the Run (Norman Foster, 1950)

Released: November 29, 1950

Director: Norman Foster; Screenplay: Allan Campbell and Norman Foster based on a story by Sylvia Tate; Cinematography: Hal Mohr; Music: Arthur Lange and Emil Newman; Producer: Howard Welsch; Studio: Fidelity Pictures/Universal

Cast: Ann Sheridan (Eleanor Johnson), Dennis O’Keefe (Daniel “Dannyboy” Leggett), Robert Keith (Inspector Martin Ferris), Ross Elliott (Frank Johnson), Frank Jenks (Detective Homer Shaw), John Qualen (Mr. Maibus), Steven Geray (Dr. Arthur Hohler), J. Farrell MacDonald (Sea Captain), Thomas P. Dillon (Joe “Bug” Gordon)

And now we come to Exhibit B (Exhibit A is #58 in this countdown) to reinforce the point that I made in my entry for Journey Into Fear. Orson Welles may have been the largest influence over that 1943 effort, but it was not because Norman Foster was incapable of directing a top-flight film noir. As outstanding as Kiss the Blood Off My Hands is, this release two years later remains my favorite that Foster directed. It is another noir-thriller hybrid that continuously amps up the tension until reaching a memorable finish at a beachside amusement park. Basically, this paragraph is a drawn out way of concluding that regardless of his actual role in Journey Into Fear, Foster released two outstanding noirs that cement his reputation as a preeminent director of noir.

Like other great B movies of the era, the action that kick-starts the entire adventure occurs very early. While taking his dog for an evening stroll, Frank Johnson (Ross Elliott) witnesses a murder. Hearing the dog bark, the killer turns and takes a shot at Frank, but luckily misses. Fearing that the killer will come back to silence him, Frank slips away from police and goes into hiding. His wife Eleanor (Ann Sheridan) is enlisted to track down the fleeing Frank. Eleanor and Frank’s marriage had been deteriorating, but old passions are rekindled when Eleanor realizes how much trouble her husband is in. She is assisted in her search by ace reporter Daniel Leggett (Dennis O’Keefe), who shows a determination to see that Eleanor finds her husband. There is a major, if somewhat predictable, plot twist that occurs a little after the midway point that adds yet another layer to the intrigue. I see no reason to give it away, but it certainly works smoothly.


Dennis O’Keefe and Ann Sheridan were known commodities by 1950, so it is no great surprise that they both turn in outstanding performances. As good as O’Keefe always is, though, it is Sheridan that is the powerhouse of the film. Eleanor does a near complete transformation – at the start of the film she is completely uninterested in what happens to her husband and by the conclusion she is frantically scrambling to rescue him. It is a nuanced performance, as Sheridan moves easily from being an intimidated, disinterested wife to a wise-cracking, brash amateur sleuth hot on her husband’s trail. There is a lot to like visually in this B-picture as well, with Foster and cinematograph Hal Mohr taking full advantage of location shooting in San Francisco. They take the viewer throughout late night haunts, bars, and clubs throughout the City by the Bay, while also making full use of ink black nighttime exterior shots.

Much more discussion about the actual story will run the risk of revealing too much for those that haven’t seen it. What I will add is that this is a movie that is in the public domain and can be legally watched at various places online. The quality at places like Archive.org is not great, but it’s far from unwatchable, particularly if (like me) you have the capability of connecting the computer to your television. But however you get hold of it to watch, Woman on the Run is definitely an essential noir and in my opinion the best movie that Norman Foster ever made.