Life on the Border

"We lost our very first language that connected us all. We tore it apart into a thousand pieces. And in the madness that followed, we discovered violence, hate and finally, separation." - Narration from Purgatorio


Purgatorio, directed by Rodrigo Reyes, is a look into life on the US/Mexico border. At first, this may seem like another discussion of the immigration debate, but the film takes us much deeper into the lives of these people as well as into our souls as human beings, giving this film a depth far beyond mere politics.

This is the second documentary for Reyes, a native of Mexico, who lived in both his home land and in California as a youth, as his family shuttled back and forth. That experience, along with his studies in political science as well as his work as an interpreter - first at a hospital and now in the courtroom - has given him a unique viewpoint for making this film. You realize this is a labor of love and his message is how we are all human beings that need hope in our lives. The evidence in this film is that many along the border realize that a better life for them is only a dream, not reality.

Reyes deliberately takes this film beyond facts in an argument about whether or not the border should be open. He talks to poor Mexicans as well as one government official as well as a number of Americans that deal with this situation, one patrolling the border, another working on identifying Mexicans that try to cross illegally - or have died trying.

At no point does Reyes ever give the identity of any of these people; this is clearly not a public news approach to the problem. Reyes here wants to give us a snapshot of the times, yet does not want the film bogged down in details. I would imagine this approach will frustrate some looking for answers, but to me, this was a fresh and proper manner in which to get his message across.

A major strength of this film is the striking cinematography of Justin Chin, who gives us a broad palette of images ranging from a lovely seaside setting with the crash of gentle waves to the dirt and grime of a dump lined with the twisted metal of abandoned automobiles, many of which are ridden with bullet holes. The bright, sunny visuals are in stark contrast to the despair of many poor Mexicans that populate this environment; one man speaks of how his life is the same every day and how he believes he is already dead.

At one point of the narration (written and spoken by Reyes), he states that while it takes courage to leave your home, sometimes it takes more courage to stay. I would have liked to have seen Reyes go into more detail regarding this point. It's a valid one, but he skims over this. It's a criticism, but about the only one I have of this film.

As did John Steinbeck back in the 1930 and '40s, Reyes links animals with people; this conjunction is especially apt with the poor. Both Steinbeck in many of his works as well as Reyes in this film seem to be saying that some view the lives of the poor in the same way as a dog wandering the streets. Reyes takes things further here, as one of the sequences deals in depth with the mechanics of canine euthanasia, as we listen to a man who puts dogs to sleep (we see the machine that is the tool of death, but thankfully, any grisly details have been omitted). At first glance, this sequence seems unnecessary, yet upon reflection, it makes perfect sense here, as life and death are mere moments in one's existence - be it a man or an animal; our souls seem to have been beaten down by the system.

Purgatorio does not take the easy way out and for that Rodrigo Reyes is to be congratulated. It's a challenging and at times, a puzzling documentary that has scenes that don't necessarily flow smoothly from one transition to the next. Yet, thank goodness that the filmmaker has opted to challenge us. The immigration problem is one thing, but our existence with our fellow man is another far more diverse and troubling topic; Reyes wants us to never forget that.

Jennifer Lynch tells it like it is

Jennifer Lynch (r) with director Penny Vozniak (Photo ©Tom Hyland)

Jennifer Lynch, daughter of famed film director David Lynch, was in Chicago recently to promote the film Despite the Gods, a documentary directed by Penny Wozniak. The film traces Lynch's time in India in 2008 directing a Bollywood production called Hisss. The shooting was plagued with all sorts of problems and afterwards, the producers recut the film without Lynch's approval; she has since publicly disavowed any connection with it. 

I sat down with Lynch and Vozniak at the offices of the Chicago International Film Festival to talk to them about this film as well as Lynch's experience making it.

Tom Hyland: I never did understand. Why did Govind (Govind Menon, the producer) ask you to direct this film? Did he ever explain why he chose you?

Jennifer Lynch: He never did, but I have my impressions. He saw Surveillance (a 2008 film directed by Jennifer) and I was a female who was a filmmaker and I had a famous last name, so there was a lot to be said for going to India with a Lynch for a Hollywood/Bollywood production. I think within that he had anticipations of how he could promote it and even after reading my script, I think he still thought this was the kind of movie he would be making, not the kind of movie I would make. To me, if you've seen Surveillance, you know what kind of filmmaker I am.

To me that was the most heartbreaking, strangely illuminating part of this; the fact that Penny was able to show me things I couldn't see, but now with time, you know I can look back and realize that he hired me for a different reason than to be myself and never told me. Maybe he didn't even know himself - I'm not suggesting there was any malice in it. I think that he saw an opportunity as a producer to make a big sound.


TH: Clearly he was very impatient with you. Do you think that was the system of getting this movie done or was it just him or was it any number of things?

JL: It was a lot of things. It was a very trying situation for everybody. You know, nine months - you can imagine the footage that isn't in there!

Something was going unexpectedly every day. I can't guess, I can tell you that my biggest sadness is that after an experience such as that is Govind and I don't speak. I'm sorry that he felt the only way to gain control of the movie was to take me out of it, instead of communicating with me like "actually, here's the kind of movie we need to make. Let's sit down and make this movie together."

Whatever my part in that is, I'm sorry. I'm a work in progress like the rest of us. I can't guess what his motivations were. My heart tells me that none of it was malicious. I think that he hired someone who had a stronger and more individual voice than he anticipated and I don't think that he was willing to communicate to me at any point - whether he realized it or not too late or earlier on - exactly what the deal was. "Actually what we need to do is to make this kind of movie and I'm using your name and this is what has to happen."

You know, I'm not retarded. I get that this is a money making business. But I was told the opposite - make your movie. Again, it wasn't every day that he and I were butting heads, but those were the most exciting days for Penny.

I can't guess. I can say respectfully I shared many good times with him and I shared a lot of drama with him. I wish we could have come out on the other side with some sort of communication, because it was brutal.


TH: (To Penny Vozniak): How did you get involved in this project?

Penny Vozniak: Actually, I wan't meant to be in India. I was on my way to Afghanistan as I got a grant to make a little project there. I stopped in Mumbai because Govind was an old friend of mine. I had been in India several times before just visiting and I stopped in Mumbai and he asked me if I could do a big favor and stay an extra week and babysit Sydney Lynch, Jennifer's daughter (she was 12 at the time, TH).

I didn't really want to, I didn't want to babysit, I wanted to make a film. But I wanted to help my friend, so I babysat Syd and she was adorable, which was fun and we hung out and then I got to know Jennifer over that week and by the end of it, I was very curious. I fell in love with them, as everyone does when they first meet them. Jennifer wanted me to stay as well and she talked to Govind and they came up with this idea that I'd shoot a behind-the-scenes.

I don't like behind-the-scenes, I don't even think I've watched one, as they doesn't interest me. I'm not interested in the movie making process at all. I'm interested in stories and people's dynamics.


TH: Had you made documentaries before?

PV: I had been working on a documentary at that point for four years and I'm about to finish it now. It's about the world's real-life super heroes. I just wanted to make my own stories with real people. That's all I've ever wanted to do. So I didn't want to make this film in India, but I was offered a bit of money for it and I thought that this would help my other project, so I'll do this as a paid job.

But then about two weeks in, I was getting stuff that they would not want to use in the DVD extras, this is scathing, like Jennifer talking about getting her period and sex and I'm thinking, maybe this isn't appropriate. So I remember at one point, I said to myself I'm going to make an observational documentary about Jennifer. She's a misunderstood filmmaker. She's not everything you think she's going to be. It's very easy to look at Jen and think, "Oh, she grew up very priviliged. Hollywood royalty, the daughter of David Lynch..."

TH: I wouldn't think that, Hollywood royalty with David Lynch...

JL: Bless your heart!

TH: If you were Cary Grant's daughter, I might think differently.

PV: But to me as an indie filmmaker lover, this is the pinnacle of it. She's got this wonderful kind of legacy.

I wanted to show the quiet moments, not just how do you make a film.  I wanted to show the dynamics between the mother and the daughter and Jennifer and the actors and Jennifer and the producer. That's what interested me, so that's the story I wanted to focus on. I don't think anyone really knew, including myself, for up until about six months what I was really doing. I just kept turning up on the set thinking I'm filming something.

Then about halfway through the story, I went, "I'm filming this story about Jennifer." It's about this, it's about something I won't realize until I get to the end, but I loved that, it's a treasure hunt.

TH: Two things I noticed as I watched the film again. One was a member of the production team saying about two-thirds of the way through the film, "This is mayhem. This is India. Isn't it beautiful?" I thought it was a great line.

Then there was a scene where a medicine man or priest throwing oil on the script or blessing the production and then there is a cut of you winking, like, "OK, see what I have to go through." I thought that was a perfect moment.

JL: Yea, this is what you do. It's also that the crew had become superstitious and it was Christmas, so they put the slate down on a plastic chair in the jungle and we all sat and closed our eyes and listened as he prayed. And if you thought about it too much, you'd kind of lose your mind and yet it was this beautiful thing we're celebrating. And we're all a little afraid as every day something goes what you would call wrong. And I kept trying to be Zen-enough about it, to make some sort of day out of it.

There it was, of course, it's a plastic chair in the jungle and we're throwing flowers on it and burning incense. What else could it be? Oh, and it was beautiful, so when I saw she had the camera on me, I winked. I remember the moment. I was thinking, maybe this will help.

PV (speaking to Jennifer): Yes, you were on the ride!

That's what I loved about those subtle moments - they didn't need any words.


TH: Two final questions. Ok, let's pretend that Penny's not here. Objectively speaking, if someone saw this, they would think this is not a very flattering portrait of Jennifer. What do you say to that?

JL: You know, part of me agrees and part of me says, that's who I was there and that's a lot of who I still am. I hope that there are some flattering moments... put it this way - that's who I am. So the terror and the joy in letting her film me and forgetting quite often that she was filming me is...

TH: You're a creative person...

JL: That's what happened and she didn't change that. I can't say, "I didn't do that. That actress didn't portray me correctly." It's authentic.


TH: Last question. I see that you're working on a film and your father appears in it. (A Fall From Grace.)

JL: I'm about to shoot this film and yes, he is playing a very beautiful sort of dementia-ridden older man in it. It's a very small role.

TH: Knowing the type of filmmaker he is, I would imagine he would let you do your thing.

JL: Oh, yeah. All we ever say to each other is, "it's common fucking sense. Go have fun."

And as absurdly simple as that sounds, that's what it is. And in any situation... so suddenly this blew up. OK, it's common sense. I've got to get from here to there.

He said no at first, "I can't do it. I won't be good enough." But then we talked about a few things and he got a look on his face and a tear welled up as I was saying some things to him and I said, "That's it. That's William right there. Can you do that?" And he said, "yeah."

You remember, he was in that movie with Isabella Rossellini (Zelly and Me, 1988), so he's acted several times.

"The Verdict" and "I Will Be Murdered" - Chicago International Film Festival

Koen De Bouw in "The Verdict" (Belgium)

Two films about justice - or lack of - are among the highlights of the 49th Chicago International Film Festival. The Verdict from Belgium asks some tough questions about the legal system in that country, while I Will Be Murdered, a Spanish production, details a famous recent murder in Guatemala, bringing up numerous questions about the violence there; both films are highly recommended.

The Verdict, directed by Jan Verheyen, gets right to the point, as its opening titles are a quote from Albert Camus; "There is no justice, only limits." Our faith in the justice system will be sorely tested during this riveting film, a story of a successful businessman, Luc Segers (Koen de Bouw), who sees his wife brutally beaten and is in turn assaulted by the same criminal. He wakens from a coma a few weeks later to learn that his wife died in this attack. 

He identifies the suspect soon afterwards and the police arrest him. But a procedural error in the paperwork before the court means that the alleged criminal must be released. This is an outrage to Segers and the public in Belgium as well, as this story is reported on the evening news.

Segers has a difficult time dealing with the loss of his wife, as he focuses on seeing that justice is served. If the legal system has let him down, he will do whatever it takes to realize the criminal's guilt. The way he goes about this is the crux of this fascinating story and I won't give away any more plot details. 

On this level alone, The Verdict is an excellent film. But this movie tells two stories; the second being a look at the justice system in Belgium (and in reality, the justice system in many countries). How is it that a murderer can go free simply because of a procedural error? Yes, the film argues, there are regulations in place to protect suspects, but should someone who commits a brutal murder be allowed back into society because a lawyer forgot to sign a piece of paper?

Verheyen, who also wrote the excellent script, turns in a wonderful job of direction. He was undoubtedly influenced by Alfred Hitchcock; this will be apparent from the overhead camera shots that isolate Segers and make him seem insignificant. Yet, this is not an instance of a director borrowing heavily on Hitchcock's visuals, as Verheyen has his own style. This is a beautifully directed film, especially in the courtroom scene that concludes the film. Each side's argument is carefully presented with great zeal as well as common sense; if you were on this jury, you really wonder what you would do. Incidentally, I love the way Verheyen presents the reading of the verdict, as the words of the chief judge are slowly drowned out as the sound is muted; we only hear cheers and boos in the courtroom after the decision is announced. We don't know for a few moments what that decision is - it's a marvelous scene.

Credit also to Johan Leysen as one of the lawyers in this film - his performance is mesmerizing. High marks also to the subdued score of Steve Willaert, the marvelous job of cinematography by Frank Van Den Eeden and the exqusite production design of Johan Van Essche; this is an outstanding technical production. 

While The Verdict is based on a fictional story, I Will Be Murdered is a documentary about a famous murder, in this case, about the death of Rodrigo Marzano in Guatemala in May, 2009. Marzano, a respcted attorney, recorded a video a few days before he was assassinated; that video, transferred to a CD, was passed out to mourners at his funeral. 

Marzano's message is political dynamite, as he claims that he was killed by the president of Guatemala, as he was researching a double murder that was carried out by hitmen; Marzano believe that the government may have had something to do with these deaths, so he recorded his video in which he states that anyone watching it would know that he blamed the government for his death.

This is a riveting film, directed by Justin Webster, that takes the form of a police investigation, but in this instance the whos and whys of the crime are looked into by an official of an organization set up by the United Nations to look into mysterious political situations such as this. Slowly this prosecutor, Carlos Castresana, pieces together the elaborate details of this bizarre case, talking to Marazno's son, chauffeur, best friend and several other individuals. As he discovers more and more details, the case becomes more mysterious and his final opinion on the events of this case are controversial, to say the least.

As with The Verdict, the system of justice and government come into question in I Will Be Murdered. The filmmaker supports Marzano's belief that violence is intertwined into the culture of Guatemala, so perhaps the government did kill Marzano, if only to shut him up. Then again, there really is no proof, so the final decision will probably catch the viewer off guard. There is a point made early on in the film that half of the Guatemalan people immediately believe the government was behind Marzano's murder, while the other half think it is a coup to try and overthrow the government. The answers are not so easy.

Both films deal with justice - one with a fictional story, the other with a true one. Both leave us wondering about the people that are sworn to protect us on an everyday basis. As one lawyer remarks in The Verdict, the main character was "let down by the legal system." Tough words to think about.

Chicago International Film Festival - "The Harvest"

There are certain movies you just have to see. Maybe the cinematography is breathtaking or there's a bravura performance by a performer that will move you. Perhaps the music is unforgettable or the overall film is a great technical achievement.

Then there's a film such as The Harvest, the latest work from John McNaughton (Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer, Mad Dog and Glory). You have to see this film if only because you may not believe what you're seeing on the screen - and I mean that with great praise. This is one of the most bizarre stories I've ever seen and it's handled with great assuredness by McNaughton, who takes us on one wild ride. How else to describe a modern day horror/love story?

I can't even begin to describe what happens in this film and I certainly wouldn't want to give much away, so the little I can tell you about the plot deals with a young boy of about 12 years old named Andy (Charlie Tahan), who has a physical condition that has left him very weak (basically, he can't walk more than a few feet) and is limited to his bedroom, except when he joins his parents for dinner, as he maneuvers his wheelchair to the kitchen.

He lives in an isolated countryside setting along with his parents, Katherine, a medical doctor (Samantha Morton) and Richard, a registered nurse (Michael Shannon). They are his life support team and do what is necessary to improve the boy's condition.

One day, a young girl named Maryann (Natasha Calis), who is about the same age as Andy, moves into a house not far away. She is cared for by her grandparents, as her father recently passed away. As she is in a new place, she is understandably forlorn, as she misses her old friends.

One day, she sets out for a walk and finds the house where Andy is living. She sees him in his bed and Andy lets her in through the window, as he is both curious and in need of a friend his age. However, once Katherine discovers this, she clearly doesn't approve of Maryann being around and tells her so in no uncertain terms.

Why she doesn't approve is the basis of the story and as I said, I won't spoil anything in this review. The plot takes several turns, all the while pitting Katherine's strong will against the wishes of Maryann and her son to become friends.

There's a bit of dark humor here and there, but this is definitely not a comedy. McNaughton takes the material and finds all sort of oblique angles here and there, all the while keeping the action flowing. This may be a slightly offbeat story (OK, more than slightly), but it's a pleasure to watch the director at work here, teasing us with a shot of an open doorway or window that may or may not lead to safety.

What most people will be talking about after they see this film (apart from the plot) is the performance of Samantha Morton. There will be some that will say she is over the top, but I think she is wonderful in the role of a woman who slowly has been losing her sense of reality for some time. You can't take your eyes off of her in this film, that's for sure!

I'd love to write more about this film, but I don't want to reveal its secrets. Go see it - you won't forget The Harvest anytime soon! I loved the film, and while I am certain there will be some that think this is a bit absurd, I'm betting a lot of people will be discussing this work for quite some time - and in a positive way. John McNaughton, welcome back!

War Horse - A re-evaluation

When I saw War Horse during its opening week of December, 2011, I recall liking the film very much. Yet, I didn't review the film at that time, probably as I was busy trying to see several other "big" films that month, released during the holiday season for Oscar consideration. Those other movies included The Artist, The Descendants, Martin Scorsese's Hugo and Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, making it a pretty good month for cinema.

Maybe though, I didn't review the film as it didn't impress me as much when I thought about it a few days later. I was definitely moved by the beauty of the film as well as its message, but I was soon fascinated by a few of the other works I mentioned, especially Tinker Tailor, Hugo and The Artist.

But seeing a film a second time can be an eye-opening experience, no matter what Pauline Kael wrote many years ago. That was certainly true for me with War Horse when I recently saw it again for a second and third time. This is far from a great opus, as the film does have some problems, especially in certain parts of the screenplay. But it is immensely watchable and deeply moving and to me, this is a film that Steven Spielberg was born to direct.

I'm sure everyone by now knows the story of this film, that of a horse named Joey, a thoroughbred, who we follow from birth to a few years of age working on a British farm to a few years later, employed by the German army in World War One to pull tanks. Linked in spirit with this horse is a boy named Albert, who is a witness to Joey's birth (there is a marvelous image of Albert watching through a fence; we see his face framed by this, as in a portrait) and feels an emotional link with him, especially after his father buys the horse at auction. Joey the horse is the spirit that will drive Albert to discover that there are far greater things in life than simply existing.

The opening auction and the sequences where Albert (Jeremy Irvine) trains Joey, first at simple tasks and then, arduously, at wearing a harness and plowing a rock-strewn field (this set near Devon, England) are beautifully and precisely directed by Spielberg. When Albert's father Ted (Peter Mullan, in a very natural performance that is sadly underrated), sees that his son is having trouble getting Joey to move, so as to start plowing, he mutters, "It'll take the whip to move him." As he recites this line, Spielberg dollies on him, which is immediately followed by a cut to Albert's face, as we see that he realizes he must take the whip to his beloved horse. This coupling of father and son is a subtle moment, one that is very effective, especially as the son saves his father from financial ruin in this scene, much as the father opened up a new world for his son when he purchased the horse.

After some misfortune, Ted must sell Joey to a captain in the British cavalry, in order to save the farm; this over the protests of Albert. We follow Joey in his life as a war horse, from practice runs to actual battles in open fields against the Germans. The first battle in the story is magnificently directed, filmed and edited (by Spielberg and his long time collaborators, cinematographer Janusz Kaminski and editor Michael Kahn) as we see the soldiers atop their horses rise up out of the wheat fields, first individually and then as a group (in some beautiful overhead and side shots). They take a German batallion by surprise at first, but are eventually overwhelmed; their defeat means that Joey and a few other horses that survived the carnage will now be working for the German army.

Throughout the film, Spielberg's compositions are first-rate. Along with the sequence described above, there is a striking sequence in which two young German soldiers who have left their ranks with Joey and another horse are captured and then shot. Spielberg films this scene from above, as we look down on a windmill the soldiers stand along side of. As the fatal shots from the firing squad are squeezed, one of the blades of the windmill covers our view of the young soldiers at their instant of death. It is truly a haunting image, one that has a powerful impact in its simplicity.

Another beautifully filmed scene is the gas attack in the trenches, as the British soldiers are completely taken by surprise. Kaminski shoots this so that the clouds of gas emerge rapidly in this claustrophobic environment, with the screen eventually turning to white. Is this white light a reflection of heaven, as these will be the final moments on earth for some of these young men? This scene, like the ones mentioned above, brilliantly display the random and sudden nature of the finality of war.

Kaminski certainly contributed a great deal to the overall effect of this film, his images varying from the sun-kissed hills of Devon to the dark earth tones of the battlefields. In keeping with the historical look of this work, the cinematographer - who has been Spielberg's director of photography since Schindler's List (1993) - has done his best to recreate the Technicolor images of the Golden Age of Hollywood. While I think he went too far at times with the dramatic, deeply saturated clouds, I will admit to being impressed with his filming of the final scene, complete with its hommage to Gone With the Wind, especially with the deep orange/russet skies. It's a marvelous moment, one that some may see as a bit over the top (especially critics who viewed this film as too sentimental), but I thought the visuals here were quite remarkable and perfectly fit the moment. (A note: Kaminski shot this movie with actual film and NOT with a digital camera. There's nothing wrong with someone using digital technology these days, even on the most expensive productions, but today when almost every film is shot via digital, it's refreshing to see that at least one great cinematographer continues to use film.)

War Horse generally received positive reviews (it's listed at 77% recommended by critics at the website Rotten Tomatoes), yet there were few raves about the film. Maybe the film wasn't serious enough for most critics; while a film about the brutality of World War One would seem to be a "weighty" subject, I'm guessing that most critics saw this as a story of a boy and his horse. In other words, this was a work that had some of the classic heartwarming overtones of many of Spielberg's works, a la E.T. or Empire of the Sun. Interestingly, Spielberg did not receive an Oscar nomination for his work on War Horse. When you consider that the two Best Director awards he did win - for Schindler's List and Saving Prviate Ryan (1998) were for "serious" war films, maybe the snub was not a surprise, given the human and his beloved animal angle. When you consider that he was nominated for Best Director for Lincoln the following year, it seems evident that the Academy - along with many critics - expect a virtuous film from Spielberg and will shower praise on him when he undertakes works of that tone. But make a "warm" film, well, that's not the Steven Spielberg those individuals fawn over.

This review is not to say that War Horse is a great film or even one of Spielberg's top three of four achievements. But it is a beautifully made, lovingly directed film that deserves a bit more respect than it's been awarded. Take another look at this film, as I did, and see what you think. At this particular point in his career, Steven Spielberg made a film he believed in and brought all of his skill and energy to this project; I think he succeeded admirably.

Film Noir - The View from a Devotée

Alan K. Rode

"People hunger for a good story. Film noir resonates a vibe in people." 

Alan Rode, member of the board of directors of the Film Noir Foundation

Recently in Chicago, I attended two films shown at the Noir City festival at the Music Box theatre. Before each screening, Alan K. Rode one of the programmers of the event, gave a brief introduction to the movie, detailing not only the plot and production details, but also the film's historical signifigance. Rode was extremely well prepared and organized; he is also a highly engaging speaker and his seven to ten-minute speeches were models on how these things should be done.

I spoke with him briefly before one of the films (The Night Has a Thousand Eyes, 1948, Paramount, directed by John Farrow) and asked him if I could speak with him at greater length about his work as well as film noir in general. He graciously agreed and I spoke with him in a phone interview from his home in Los Angeles.

Tom Hyland: Is there a typical fan that attends these Film Noir festivals? Why do people come to see these films? Is it because they are starved for a well-crafted film considering all the garbage that dilutes movie screens these days? Is there an element of nostalgia? Or is there a dark side to all of us that we want to see on the big screen?

Alan Rode: I think it's a combination of all of them. Certainly at the Noir Festival in Palm Springs (Rode hosts the annual Arthur Lyons Film Noir Festival there), there is an older audience, so nostalgia is part of that. These are people that grew up watching these films.

It's really encouraging to see young people come to the films. But more so, people hunger for a good story. Film noir resonates a vibe in people. Scenes of men in fedoras or people talking on phones with big, clunky dials might be hard for modern audiences to understand, however the themes of treachery, lust and greed are viable in modern life. Everyone can identify with noir.

People can identify with a well-told story. They're tired of special effects. Hollywood has settled on a certain type of model and a certain type of audience.

Film noir was made during the post-World War Two years when America lost its innocence. People of different age groups are drawn to this.

Also, these films are 70 and 80 minutes long, unlike the two and two and a half-hour films of today. The makers of these film noirs told their stories with brevity and sharpness.

Marie Windsor and Charles McGraw in The Narrow Margin (1952, RKO), one of Rode's Top Ten Film Noirs

TH: This may be a difficult, if not impossible question, but how do you define film noir?

AR: When you have a situation where people are doing something that is wrong and they know that it's wrong, but they do it anyway. 

There are other aspects, such as the immigrant directors that came to Hollywood to make these films, the photography - day for night - for example. Film noir is a combination of ingredients. 

It's not a genre, like a western or a musical, where you can identify it right away. Noir is like beauty - it's in the eye of the beholder. Noir does have some demarcation markers, from the 1940s to the 1960s. It's definitely a post war phenomenon.


TH: If a contemporary film wants to be known as a film noir, does it have to be set in the past?

AR: Noir is a style that people use in modern day films. It doesn't have to have a story that's set in 1937, as with Chinatown. In large measure, the strains of the noir style that we see in present day films originate from those timeless dark films from the classic noir era: Double Indemnity, Laura, Out of the Past, to name a few. Many films have borrowed from those works and improved upon them.

Richard Conte and Jean Wallace in The Big Combo (1955, Allied Artists), another of Rode's Top Ten Film Noirs

TH: Do you have a favorite line of dialogue from a film noir that offers classic wisdom or advice on life?

AR: In The Big Combo when Richard Conte says, "First is first and second is nobody." That line also describes Hollywood.

Also in The Killers (1946, Universal), at the beginning of the film outside the diner, the young man (played by Phil Brown, who later was Luke Skywalker's uncle in Star Wars) asks Burt Lancaster why two hitmen are going to kill him. "I did something once," is Lancaster's reply and we spend the rest of the film finding out what that was.

Thanks to Alan Rode for his time and his wonderful stories (a few of which I can't repeat here!). Rode has written a marvelous book on Charles McGraw, one of noir's greatest actors, entitled Charles McGraw: Biography of a Film Noir Tough Guy (see information here).

He is currently finishing a biography of the famed director, Michael Curtiz, who best-known for classic films such as Casablanca and Yankee Doodle Dandy, also made film noir, the most notable being The Breaking Point (1950), his retelling of the Ernest Hemingway story To Have and Have Not, starring John Garfield and Phyllis Thaxter. Rode calls it, "the last great film Curtiz made at Warner Brothers. Information about the book, Michael Curtiz: A Man For all Movies can be found here.)

Article ©Tom Hyland

A Cracking Good Yarn

I didn't plan it this way, but over the Labor Day weekend, I saw an excellent film about the troubles of one working man in England and how he overcomes his daily struggles. Hell Drivers is the picture, released in 1957 and while it was a relatively low budget B-film, it's a heckuva film, a "cracking good yarn," as they'd say in England.

The film was directed and co-written by Cy Enfield (John Kruse was co-writer of the screenplay). Enfield was an American who was named a Communist at an HUAC meeting in 1951 and was summarily blacklisted; he moved to England soon after and wrote and directed several films, his most famous being Mysterious Island (1961) and Zulu (1964).

Given Enfield's political ousting from America, it's easy to understand the motives that were at work in Hell Drivers. It's a deceptively simple piece of work - I say that as a compliment - about a young man named Tom Yately (Stanley Baker) who, upon being released from a year in prison, looks for any sort of decent job to get back on his feet. As the film opens, he is inquiring about a job as a truck driver for a company in the gravel business - their fleet of drivers transports ballast over short distances several times during the day. Seems simple enough, but a necessary requirement of the job is to make as many runs in a day as possible - 12 is a minimum - but one driver, "Red" Redman (Patrick McGoohan) regularly completes 18 in a single day. Of course, the only way to approach that level is to drive as fast and as loose as possible, often with potentially dangerous results, as the drivers' route shares a few roads with local country traffic.

The title sequence, filmed from the P.O.V. of a driver's seat, puts us front and center into what these men face on a daily basis, as they maneuver twisty, narrow roads on the way to their destination. Filmed in stark black and white by the great cinematographer Geoffrey Unsworth (who would go on to be the director of photography on such films as 2001: A Space Odyessy and Cabaret - he won as Oscar  for the latter), this brief introduction to the trucker's perils is edgy and a little rough around the edges in its approach, which is an ideal way to draw us into this world. This is followed a few minutes later by a test run that Tom takes with the assistant of the company boss, who gives him tips on how fast he must drive and how he needs to take turns. He narrowly survives more than one serious accident along the way - this is the first day, mind you -but as he needs an income, he takes the job.

Patrick McGoohan as Red (l.) and Stanley Baker as Tom

The conflict of this story involves how Tom has to deal with the rough and tumble attitude of Red. The latter not only makes the most runs per day (he fittingly drives truck number 1, while Tom works with truck number 13, an intriguing psychological quirk, to say the least), but also runs roughshod over the other drivers, who look upon him with a mix of fear and respect. You don't tangle with Red, as Tom is soon to discover and it's this subtext of the story that gives us a rooting interest in Tom. 

There's also a nice subplot about an Italian immigrant named Gino (beautifully played by Herbert Lom), who hates Red and befriends Tom in his quest to become the top driver. Gino has a girlfriend who happens to be keen on Tom; this piece of business is always in the background, but it quietly simmers, giving the film an even sharper edge.

What I loved about Hell Drivers is the straightforward, no nonsense way in which this story is told and how it unfolds. The character of Red is a bit clichéd, but thankfully McGoohan stops short of portraying him as a monster. The bottom line here is making the proper choice between greed or honor; combine that with a smart screenplay and pinpoint direction and you've got a B-film that makes the grade on just about every level. Maybe it was the humiliation of the blacklist that got Enfield to write this story/fable, but he definitely set about to right some wrongs and in doing so, he gave us a marvelous entertainment.