#29: Night and the City (Jules Dassin, 1950)

Released: April 1950 (United Kingdom)

Director: Jules Dassin; Screenplay: Jo Eisinger based on the novel by Gerald Kersch; Cinematography: Max Greene; Music: Franz Waxman (United States) and Benjamin Frankel (United Kingdom); Producer: Samuel G. Engel; Studio: 20th Century Fox

Cast: Richard Widmark (Harry Fabian), Gene Tierney (Mary Bristol), Googie Withers (Helen Nosseross), Hugh Marlowe (Adam Dunne), Frank L. Sullivan (Phil Nosseross), Herbert Lom (Kristo), Stanislaus Zbyszko (Gregorious the Great), Mike Mazurki (The Strangler), Ada Reeve (Molly), Charles Farrell (Mickey Beer), Ken Richmond (Nikolas of Athens), Edward Chapman (Hoskins)

- "You don't know what you're getting into..."

With subpoenas ready to be unsealed and personalities throughout Hollywood on the verge of being called before the now infamous House Un-American Activities Committee to answer questions regarding their political persuasions, suspected leftist sympathizer Jules Dassin scrambled to make it out of the country before the authorities tracked him down. Hightailing it to London, well out of reach of any potential subpoena servers, Dassin next had to quickly find a script and begin work before studio bosses yielded to pressure to blackball him. It is amazing to consider that in the face of such pressure, and with the mad dash that took place to find a suitable story and screenplay, that Dassin produced what many consider to be the finest film of his career. Mirroring the struggle that his professional and personal life had become, Night and the City is without question the bleakest vision that Dassin ever expressed in cinema. This one is dark, without any real winners, remaining as bleak and pessimistic as any film of the entire era.

Richard Widmark is one of the most celebrated of leading noir actors, but his turn as Harry Fabian may be the best role of his career. If it is not quite as bombastic as his blistering Tommy Udo, it is only because Fabian is nowhere near as sadistic as the murderous Udo. But Fabian makes up for this deficiency with his unbridled ambition and scheming. Fabian is a smalltime hoodlum, a tout for a local nightclub that makes his money by steering customers to his employer’s establishment. At the same time, he is constantly on the lookout for potential new scores. As a result of his scams and thefts, Harry is constantly being pursued by past victims and creditors. To escape such pursuers, Harry often hides out in the apartment of his naïve girlfriend Mary (Gene Tierney), who also occasionally serves as the bankroll for his harebrained plans. All of his past plans have failed, but he soon believes that he has hit the jackpot. He plots to take over the professional wrestling industry in London, teaming with famed wrestler Gregorious the Great (Stanislaus Zbyszko). But the plan is harder than it sounds, as Gregorious’ son Kristo (Herbert Lom), a powerful racketeer, currently runs the business and has no plans of relinquishing control. Playing father against son, partner against partner – really anybody against everybody but himself – Harry’s only goal is to cash in personally.


There are no forced happy endings in Night and the City. Things feel irrevocably doomed from the start and that mood never lets up. What makes it so distinctive is that the doom of it all almost feels correct. Touring the underworld of London, there are few characters presented that are in the least bit sympathetic. Fabian, who I suppose is the nominal hero, is far from likable. His boss and partners Phil Nosseros (Francis L. Sullivan) Helen Nosseros (Googie Withers) are only slightly less ambitious and ruthless than Harry. Kristo is identified as a leading hoodlum and racketeer. Even though he is being pitted against his father, it’s hard to feel sorry for an unrepentant hood. Mary, I suppose garners some sympathy, as she seems to want nothing but peace for her completely opposite boyfriend. Sill, Gregorious remains the only one that I see as a true victim. All of this means that while the nihilistic nature of everything remains jarring, in some weird way it is fitting. And perhaps that is what makes it so disturbing.

Never did a Jules Dassin film look better than Night and the City. The photography of the streets of London is the perfect look for a film noir, filmed to as ominous and dark as anything set in New York or Los Angeles. The night clubs and streets of London are shot in such a way to make them feel unbearably claustrophobic, reinforcing the fact that while London may be a big city, eventually Fabian is going to run out of places to hide from his problems. The contrast between light and dark is as stark here as anywhere else in noir.

The rating here may be a bit low, but personal preference is an even greater factor in trying to separate these final thirty. There is no denying the power of this film and what an incredible achievement it is in the career of the great Jules Dassin.

#32: Kiss of Death (Henry Hathaway, 1947)

Released: August 27, 1947

Director: Henry Hathaway; Screenplay: Ben Hecht and Charles Lederer based on a story by Eleazar Lipsky; Cinematography: Norbert Brodine; Music: David Buttolph; Producer: Fred Kohlmar; Studio: 20th Century Fox

Cast: Victor Mature (Nick Bianco), Brian Donlevy (Assistant District Attorney Louis D’Angelo), Coleen Gray (Nettie), Richard Widmark (Tommy Udo), Taylor Holmes (Earl Howser), Howard Smith (Warden), Karl Malden (Sergeant William Cullen), Anthony Ross (Big Eddie Williams), Millard Mitchell (Detective Shelby), Temple Texas (Buster), Jay Jostyn (District Attorney), J. Scott Smart (Skeets)

- “You know what I do to squealers? I let 'em have it in the belly, so they can roll around for a long time thinkin' it over…”

One of the biggest myths of classic Hollywood is that Henry Hathaway’s Kiss of Death is worthwhile solely because of the over-the-top screen debut of Richard Widmark. To be certain, Widmark’s performance as bloodthirsty hoodlum Tommy Udo is incendiary, so it is understandable that it would overshadow other elements of the film. It’s unfortunate, because there is so much more to it than just Widmark. Victor Mature turns in a fine performance as Nick Bianco and the film as a whole boasts a nice mix of Hollywood veterans (Brian Donlevy) and future stars (Karl Malden). But guiding it all is the steady hand of Henry Hathaway, who flawlessly combines realistic location shooting with Norbert Brodine’s classy cinematography to craft a great movie.


Mature is Nick Bianco, a professional thief who tries to provide for his family through various heists. On Christmas Eve, when he and a group of hoodlums rob a Manhattan jewelry store, an alarm is sounded and Nick is not able to make it out of the building. Apprehended by police, Nick is grilled over who his partners were in the robbery. District Attorney Louis D’Angelo (Brian Donlevy) offers him a light sentence in return for fingering the other men, but sticking true to the code of the streets, Nick refuses. Packed off to Sing Sing with a 20-year sentence, Nick does his time as best he can, until he learns that his depressed and lonely wife has committed suicide. Learning from former babysitter Nettie (Coleen Gray) that his two children have been relocated to an orphanage, Nick realizes that he desperately needs to get out of prison and take care of his kids. Nick contacts DA D’Angelo to provide information on his compatriots, but since the case is years old, the information does no good in reducing his sentence. But D’Angelo offers him another way out – if he will give them help get close to and take down rising hoodlum Tommy Udo (Richard Widmark), he will be released from his previous conviction. Paroled for his undercover work, Nick leaves prison and begins getting close to Udo. At the same time, he develops a relationship with Coleen and does his best to create the ideal family life with his new lady and his children. Things get dicey for everyone involved when Udo begins to learn what is going on, placing everyone close to Nick at extreme peril.

As strongly as I feel about my intro to this piece, there is no argument that Widmark is a tour-de-force in every scene he appears in. But the main criticism that I have read concerning the character of Tommy Udo – and really of the movie in general – is that Udo feels underdeveloped. I think this is missing the point of the film. Although Udo may feel like the center of attention, he actually isn’t. The real focus of the story is on Nick Bianco, a man desperately trying to go straight who never really has a chance to do so. While this is an incredibly familiar storyline, what makes it unique in this case is the reason why Nick doesn’t have a chance. It isn’t just the underworld that “pulls him back in,” as Michael Corleone would say decades later. It’s also the district attorney, his own lawyer, and other supposedly respectable personalities. Nick is being bombarded from every possible angle, leaving him and his family caught in the middle of powerful forces, both legal and illegal. So with this in mind, the lack of development of Tommy Udo as a fully fleshed-out person is unimportant to me. What matters is the dynamism of Widmark portraying one of the most sadistic and evil characters in Hollywood history. Those that have seen the film will undoubtedly be able to hear the childish giggle that he unleashes after committing horrendous acts of violence. Even more so than other cinema psychopaths, such as classic characters like Cody Jarrett, Udo seems to genuinely enjoy the violence and bloodshed. It is shocking even now to watch him push a helpless wheelchair-bound woman down a flight of stars. Imagine what it must have been like to see this in 1947.


Hathaway’s work is also noteworthy, as it alternates between documentary style shooting and gritty, noirish set pieces. Scenes showing Nick confined in prison feel real because, to a certain extent, they are. Hathaway took cast and crew to the actual Sing Sing Prison to film. Popular legend holds that the actors were processed through the institution as actual prisoners would be, adding a further sense of realism to everything filmed there. Likewise, shooting on the streets of New York is also gorgeous, particularly in the filming of the tense Manhattan jewel heist that opens the film.

There are certainly some minor details that I would have preferred to change – once again, there is narration that is completely unnecessary, and I could understand someone thinking there might be a bit too much moralizing in the story. Still, taken as a whole, I still think it’s a wonderful noir. It has a solid reputation, but with the exception of Widmark’s turn as Udo, I think it is actually a bit underrated as a whole.

#55: Pickup on South Street (Samuel Fuller, 1953)

Released: June 17, 1953

Director: Samuel Fuller; Screenplay: Samuel Fuller based on a story by Dwight Taylor; Cinematography: Joseph MacDonald; Music: Lionel Newman; Producer: Jules Schermer; Studio: 20th Century Fox

Cast: Richard Widmark (Skip McCoy), Jean Peters (Candy), Thelma Ritter (Moe), Murvyn Vye (Captain Dan Tiger), Richard Kiley (Joey), Willis Bouchey (Zara), Milburn Stone (Winoki)

- "Are you waving the flag at _me_?"

We’re to the point in the countdown now where distinguishing many of the films, and putting them in precise rankings, is a herculean task. I try to be as precise as possible, crafting a favorites list that will hold up for at least some period of time. As all of the other list junkies in the blogosphere know, it’s impossible to create a list that will remain completely fixed and unchanging. So much just depends on one’s outlook, mood, or recent viewing, all of which are things that can change rapidly. At this moment, I could be high on a particular movie, the next my passion might have inexplicably tapered. That’s just how it goes with list making, I suppose, but it’s still worth pointing out, because even I am somewhat shocked at slotting in Samuel Fuller’s Pickup on South Street at #55. When I made my original rough draft for the project, I had Pickup in the Top 40 and was fairly certain that it remained my favorite Fuller film. But for the sake of completeness, I re-watched a number of films to solidify the ordering, and this was one that I revisited. As you can probably surmise from this opening paragraph, something about this viewing experience was not as powerful as in the past.

This is not to say I am no longer a big fan – look where I rank it and some of the classics that are solidly behind it in the countdown. I still consider it among my two or three favorite Fuller films. What struck me about Pickup this time around was the impression that, similar to Wise’s Born to Kill, it ultimately comes up a bit short of fulfilling the promise of some outstanding individual elements.


The story is set up right from the opening sequence, as the camera follows the work of professional pickpocket Skip McCoy (Richard Widmark). Recently released from jail after his conviction was tossed out due to dubious police practices, McCoy is looking to make a profitable score. Instead, he picks the pocket of Candy (Jean Peters), the girlfriend of a Communist spy. Rather than lifting money, McCoy lifts a roll of microfilm that Candy has been sent to deliver to a Communist cell. The result is that McCoy quickly becomes the target of two very different groups – the police and FBI are after him in order to grab the microfilm before it falls into enemy hands, while the Communists scurry to grab the film before it’s too late. Caught in the middle is Skip, the unscrupulous crook who begins to play both ends against the middle. Things become even more complicated as Skip and Candy begin to develop an attraction, meaning that simple monetary gain does not remain Skip’s only focus.

The high points of the film are quite high. Fuller’s direction is at times flawless. The opening, wordless subway sequence, in which the camera follows the maneuvering of McCoy as he works to stealthily to pick Candy’s pocket, is incredible. The trademark Fuller zooms and close-ups abound, making it obvious who is in the director’s chair. The other Fuller trademark is the ability to create seedy underworlds, subcultures and, even more impressively, the underbelly of legitimate worlds. The three-dimensional feel of the underworld is driven home in the hunt for McCoy, as the police go through a list of usual suspects and informants to track down a single “cannon” as they call him. The Communist ring feels equally as shady, even though very little is revealed about them. Even the police are shown to be far from spotless, as it is revealed that the hard-charging Captain Tiger (Murvyn Vye) has been charged with brutality. Few men could match the ability of Fuller to make the entire world feel so seedy. And this knack is given even greater force by the contribution of Joseph MacDonald. It’s like a broken record in this countdown, but if you still haven’t had the point drive home – Joseph MacDonald is one of the finest cinematographers to ever work in film. Period.


So why did this one not remain in the Top 40 where I originally had it? Like I said, the main reason would be simply that I didn’t respond to it as passionately as I had in the past. Maybe it’s a copout to say this, but it just lacked “something” for me. Pinpointing precisely what that “something” is would be difficult, which is what makes it so easy to attribute it to just a slight shift in mood or personal taste. I do know, though, that outside of Widmark’s fiery performance – he is nothing short of brilliant – the other performances now seem less impressive. Thelma Ritter was nominated for the Best Supporting Actress Oscar, and she is entertaining, but camp elements of the performance stood out to me this time around. Jean Peters is also solid, but the romance between Skip and Candy never feels completely natural. In the end, though, these individual reason are just nitpicking as I try to make out some kind of concrete explanation for dropping it in the rankings. I really don’t have one, other than that mysterious “something.”

This review has been almost entirely critical, focusing on Pickup placing lower than expected, but the only reason that I am this critical is because it is probably a film that deserves to be ranked higher. It is still a very good movie and arguably the quintessential Sam Fuller film. Perhaps I’ll regret the placement when everything concludes, but for now, I’ll stay with my instinct.

#81: Road House (Jean Negulesco, 1948)

Released: September 22, 1948

Director: Jean Negulesco; Screenplay: Edward Chodorov based on a story by Margaret Gruen and Oscar Saul; Cinematography: Joseph LaShelle; Music: Cyril J. Mockridge; Producer: Edward Chodorov; Studio: 20th Century Fox

Cast: Ida Lupino (Lily Stevens), Cornel Wilde (Pete Morgan), Celeste Holm (Susie Smith), Richard Widmark (Jefty Robbins), O.Z. Whitehead (Arthur), Robert Karnes (Mike), George Beranger (Lefty), Ian MacDonald (Police captain), Grandon Rhodes (Judge)

- "She does more without a voice than anybody I've ever heard!"

A strong case can be made for classifying Road House as a straight melodrama. In terms of plot and progression, it probably is more closely related to traditional lovers triangle stories, where two friends both become infatuated with the new girl in town. Rather than the dark, haunting urban cityscape setting, this takes place entirely in or around a road house saloon near the Canadian border. Although Ida Lupino’s sultry and cagey Lily Stevens comes close, there really is no traditional femme fatale to manipulate the fighting men into their flap. And until the battle over the love interest, there is no central crime or shady activity taking place, no career criminals or unending scheming. Still, all of the uniformly outstanding lead performances contain noirish elements and the cinematography from veteran Joseph LaShelle manages to make the rural setting of Jefty’s Road House as mysterious as any city street.

Things center on Pete Morgan (Cornel Wilde), who manages the road house and bar owned by his good friend Jefty Robbins (Richard Widmark). Jefty provides the capital necessary to keep everything going, but it is Pete that truly runs the business. When Jefty returns from a trip to Chicago, he brings back with him a lounge singer he met in the city. Lily (Ida Lupino) might not have much of a voice, but she has stage presence that makes her an instant hit at the bar. Jefty is crazy about Lily, although his new employee begins to show more of an interest in Pete than in the man who brought her there from the city. With Jefty away on a hunting trip, Pete and Lily develop a close relationship and ultimately begin plotting to run away together and get married. When Jefty catches wind of the plot, he frames Pete for theft at the road house in order to foil the plans. To play the good guy, Jefty then has Pete released into his custody, but all of these machinations are not enough to stifle the love affair between Pete and Lily. When Jefty realizes that the two still aim to be together, he begins to violently unravel.


Any opportunity to watch Richard Widmark as a sociopath should be taken advantage of, and he does not disappoint here. But even the madness of Jefty is not the high point of the film. The catalyst to the success of the movie, and really the centerpiece of the entire story, is Ida Lupino’s Lily Stevens. In the entry for The Hitch-Hiker, I promised that there would be more Lupino in the countdown, and here she quiets any reservations one might have about considering her a top-flight actress. Lupino oozes sensuality, but in a different manner than someone like, say, Marilyn Monroe in Niagara. Lily is a tough, sarcastic personality that may know that she is beautiful, but does not intend to rely solely on attractiveness to make her way in the world. There is something equally alluring (if not more so) in watching her sit at the piano and deliver a gravel-voiced rendition of “One For My Baby” as in seeing the eye-popping Monroe lounging in a pink dress. The edgy, cynical personality of Lily also provides more character development than a character like Rose Loomis. While not a femme fatale, Lily is the impetus to the entire drama and Lupino is more than up to that task. The limits of the entire production become obvious as the film progresses, showing why the script had already been passed over by three previous directors before Jean Negulesco decided to make it. It is very much tied to the soundstage sets, with varying degrees of success. When set inside the road house, Joseph LaShelle and Negulesco do impressive work to make locales like a bowling alley or simple bar appear shadowy. The ventures to the border and outdoors are much more artificial.

This was the last noir that Negulesco ever made and it is certainly a solid way to end his foray into the field. It might not be his best, but it is still an entertaining, distinctive noir.

#89: The Street With No Name (William Keighley, 1948)

Released: July 14, 1948

Director: William Keighley; Screenplay: Harry Kleiner; Cinematography: Joseph MacDonald; Music: Lionel Newman; Producer: Samuel G. Engel; Studio: 20th Century Fox

Cast: Mark Stevens (Gene Cordell/George Manly), Richard Widmark (Alec Stiles), Lloyd Nolan (Inspector George A. Briggs), Barbara Lawrence (Judy Stiles), Ed Begley (Police Chief Bernard Harmatz), Donald Buka (Shivvy), Joseph Pevney (Matty), Joseph McIntire (Cy Gordon)

- "What's the use of having a war if you don't learn from it?"

The remake of this 1948 film, House of Bamboo, has already been featured in this Top 100 and now we come to the original source. Writer Harry Kleiner pinned the script for both films, and while the exotic nature of the remake makes for an interesting experience, I think that the original is the superior of the two.

It would be easy to dismiss William Keighley’s The Street With No Name as a large-scale propaganda project that gained the full endorsement of the most notorious of curmudgeons, J. Edgar Hoover. That’s probably how Hoover viewed it – as a vehicle that could be used to cast his FBI agents in the best possible lights, as defenders of justice who always catch their man. Accordingly, he gave the go-ahead for actual F.B.I. agents and personnel to be used as actors in the film, in addition to an on-screen message to open the movie that is attributed to Hoover himself:

“The street on which crime flourishes is the street extending across America. It is the street with no name. Organized gangsterism is once again returning. If permitted to go unchecked three out of every four Americans will eventually become its victims. Wherever law and order break down there you will find public indifference. An alert and vigilant America will make for a secure America.”

Following this idealistic message from the esteemed #1 G-Man, the movie then jumps right into the middle of a crime spree in Center City. A roadhouse and a bank are robbed within a matter of days, resulting in two murders that are linked to the same gun. Realizing that this is the work of a growing gang of criminals, FBI Inspector George Briggs (Lloyd Nolan) recruits another agent to go undercover and try to infiltrate the gang. Agent Gene Cordell (Mark Stevens), posing as a thief named George Manly, begins to try and get close to local fight promoter Alec Stiles (Richard Widmark). After passing Stiles’ initial test, involving framing Manly for a robbery to see if he is an undercover, Manly then begins to get close to Stiles and his gang. Reporting back to his case agent (Joseph McIntire) on the planning of the gang, things are going smoothly until an informant in the police department tips off Stiles to the fact that the law is onto his plans. It then becomes a race to see if the FBI can keep their man safe and uncover the gang before the gang deals with the agent themselves.


So it’s set up to be one gigantic cheerleading session for the clearly delineated “good guys” to catch the evil criminals. Fortunately, due primarily to the outstanding photography from Joseph MacDonald, things never feel that straightforward. MacDonald also did the cinematography for House of Bamboo, which was outstanding. But here, he is working with the traditional black and white of noir and he is able to use the shadows and darkness to make all of Center City feel corrupt. It becomes a guessing game as to who is legit and who is on the take.

Mark Stevens does a fine job as the agent in peril, but it is, quite predictably, Richard Widmark that owns most of the film. This was only his second film, coming a year after his debut in Kiss of Death. No one ever matched Widmark’s ability to play the sinister villain with an unexplainable touch of likability.