Film review: The Third Man (1949), directed by Carol Reed
This classic film noir penned by Graham Greene currently occupies the 68th spot on IMDb’s Top 250 list and is set in post Word War II Austria – Vienna, to be precise.
American author Holly Martins (Joseph Cotten) arrives in Vienna to meet his childhood friend Harry Lime (Orson Welles) … only to find him deceased. He was run over. After the funeral, Martins gets a lift back into town and goes drinking with Major Calloway (Trevor Howard). Maybe it’s better to just get back to the States.
Fortunately, he gets invited as a guest speaker, so he can stay a little longer – and as he thinks the whole affair with the car accident sounds fishy, he can start investigating the matter himself, seeing as how the police aren’t particularly forthcoming.
While following up leads, he meets Anna Schmidt (Alida Valli), Lime’s girlfriend, and a host of other characters. Why are things not adding up about the accident? What do the police want with Anna? Who is the mysterious “third man” seen at the accident, but refuted by the other two present at the scene?
Also starring: Bernard Lee as Sgt. Paine, Ernst Deutsch as ‘Baron’ Kurtz, Siegfried Breuer as Popescu, Erich Ponto as Dr. Winkel and Wilfrid Hyde-White as Crabbin.
Apparently, the camera angles were controversial back in the day, someone giving the director (a man, despite the name) a spirit level once as a half-joke, so he could put it on the camera next time. It’s very atmospheric as a film, though, which kept my interest up. That, and that the German speech wasn’t subtitled, but was occasionally translated or paraphrased in English by other characters. Rather interesting to see how much I could make out of what was said. The old landlady’s rants in particular, she was really adamant. “I’ve lived in this house for 60 years! This is not appropriate!”
Another thing keeping me on my toes was that Orson Welles was billed as the second cast member in the information. And it took him over an hour into the film before we see catch as much as a glimpse of the man. On the other hand, it’s a darn good glimpse:
|Hot dang!! (No wonder he wasn’t lacking in mistresses …)|
Now, if you have a cable or satellite service with an info-button, you will most likely have the same problem as I did if you look up this film. It was a rather big spoiler, just because the wording they’d used to describe the plot was … clumsy, to say the least. Which meant that the twist toward the end wasn’t a twist at all. I knew from the outset why the story about the accident didn’t add up, and could therefore easily gather who the mysterious third man was. Effing duuh! Surprised it took Martins et al that long to reach the same conclusion.
The more interesting part of the story is the character of Harry Lime, but then again, if he was a saint, it wouldn’t have been much of a film noir, as they’re meant to have a gritty sort of feel to them. And this does. It’s very effective at that, even though the main theme is strangely jolly.
There are some great lines, some great acting, and whenever Welles shows up, he’s riveting. Captivating. And dreadfully handsome.
4 out of 5 cats.