Hitch's Terrifying Love Story

After the tremendous success of Psycho in 1960 (this was the most popular Alfred Hitchcock film ever at the box office), the director turned his attention to an equally shocking story, The Birds in 1963. While some critics were openly disappointed with this work, The Birds shows Hitchcock at the power of his storytelling genius and remains in my mind, one of the top ten films he ever made.

By now, everyone must know the basic theme of this film - birds suddenly start attacking humans for seemingly no reason at all. While Hitchcock used Daphne du Maurier's 1952 short story of the same name as the basis for his film, he enlisted Evan Hunter to broaden this tale and add new characters and situations.

While the bird attacks were the primary focus for many in the audience, the film is, in the final analysis, an argument from Hitchcock on the need for love. We are introduced at once to Melanie Daniels (Tippi Hedren), an attractive, young socialite living in San Francisco, where her father is an editor for one of the city's daily papers. She enters a pet store to purchase a mynah bird and while waiting, encounters Mitch Brenner (Rod Taylor), a defense attorney who has come to purchase a pair of love birds as a birthday present for his 11-year old sister (nice touch right off the bat of love birds being part of the symbolism that drives the story). Brenner, upon seeing Daniels standing alone at a counter, plays a trick on her, asking her for advice on birds, knowing full well who she is. Daniels, not realizing that he knows she is not a sales clerk, does her best to help him, but fails in her efforts. Upon learning of Brenner's deception, she insults him and instantly imagines getting even with him. As he leaves, she runs outside, sees his license plate number and thanks to her father's connections, learns who he is and where he lives.

As the store did not have any love birds when Brenner arrived, Daniels orders them with the idea of purchasing them for his sister Cathy (Veronica Cartwright) and delivering them herself. She drives up to Bodega Bay, along the Pacific Coast, about an hour north of San Francisco.

Soon after she delivers Cathy's present, the bird attacks start. First, Daniels is hit in the head by a gull who swoops down on her and leaves a small bloody cut. Hitchcock, who begins the film with an ominous title sequence of crows seemingly ripping apart the title credits, is just getting warmed up, as far as shocking sequences are concerned.

But wisely, Hitchcock and Hunter are at the same time, involving us in the developing relationship between Daniels and Brenner. He is physically attracted to this beautiful woman and at the same time charmed that she would go to all the trouble of purchasing the love birds and delivering them to Cathy as a surprise. Brenner asks her to stay in Bodega Bay and have dinner; she accepts, as she is attracted to this young man, who despite his professional success, seems to be in need of attention from someone outside of his immediate family, that being his sister and his anxiety-ridden mother Lydia (beautifully portrayed by Jessica Tandy), whom he lives with in this coastal town.

When Daniels discovers that he is a criminal lawyer, she proclaims, "Is that why you want to see everyone behind bars?" It's a clever line, as the two first met in a pet store, where dozens of birds (and other animals) are kept in cages. Clearly, Daniels believes that Brenner also wants to cage or control her as well. As we learn that she created headlines the previous summer by jumping into a fountain in Rome (she relates to him that she was pushed in), we learn of her aloofness. Perhaps, Hitchcock and Hunter are saying, Daniels is tired of her freedom and wishes to be trapped.

It is their encounter, at first based on deception and ultimately based on their need for true human affection, that is at the heart of this film. Naturally the spectacularly-filmed and very unsettling bird attacks - especially on young children - catch the viewer's attention. But without the human element to this story, the bird attacks would stand out as a gimmick. For years after, this film, thanks to its disturbing theme - animals being unleashed on humans - inspired several other movies with similar subject matters, be it monkeys or lions or even in one instance, killer frogs in the infamous Frogs (1972). The creators of such films were in for a cheap buck, thinking that humans being eaten by animals would be good for some instant thrills as well as a few laughs.

Of course, films such as that are mere footnotes, while The Birds remains deeply etched in the psyche of anyone who has seen it over the years. Who can forget the unforgettable sequence of Daniels driving to the schoolhouse in Bodega Bay - a structure that clearly recalls the Bates residence in Psycho - to check on Cathy as well as her teacher Annie Hayworth (Suzanne Pleshette), who we learn was Brenner's former girlfriend and who still carries a torch for him. In the most famous part of this sequence, Hitchock films Daniels sitting alongside a fence that is next to the school playground. We see one crow behind her sitting on a jungle gym; this is a disconcerting image given the previous bird attacks. We cut back and forth between the shots of Daniels and the playground equipment being populated by more and more birds; we see them, but Daniels is unaware of their presence. Finally, Hitchock uses subjective camera as we see Melanie spot one bird flying alone and follows his path onto the playground, which is now filled with hundreds of birds, who we know, are merely waiting for the right moment to strike. That shot was evidence of Hitchcock's genius in creating suspense - as well as surprise - and it's become one of the most iconic scenes in American films.

Yet Hitchcock even tops that scene a few minutes later in the film, when we see the next bird attack. As several townspeople in the local diner argue over the meaning of the attacks, we follow Melanie as she looks out the window and spots a pair of gulls flying near a gas station. One of them knocks over the attendant, who drops the gas pump, spilling fuel on the ground, which rapidly spreads to the parking lot nearby. One man who has exited his car and is lighting a cigar is unaware of the fuel, but it is too late, as it explodes, killing him and destroying several other cars.

Hitchcock then gives us a literal birds' eye view of the surroundings, as we see first one and then another and then another gull enter the frame, as they stare down at the destruction below. The birds let out a shriek, as though they are having an ironic laugh at humanity. We can control humans so easily, the birds seem to be saying. What a chilling image and moment this is!

The sequence continues as the people in the diner scramble madly to find shelter. Melanie herself runs to the protection of a phone booth, where she believes she will be safe. Hitchcock gives us several memorable overhead shots here, as we see that Melanie is now trapped - trapped like a bird in a cage. One by one, the birds hurtle themselves against the glass, with a few of them shattering it. The sound editing in this sequence - and really throughout the entire film - is brilliant and makes this section of the film that much more terrifying.

There are more attacks and more stunning images from Hitchcock, but it is the moment just before the ending that completes the message of this film. Melanie, who has been seriously injured by birds in the attic of the Daniels' home, has to be taken to the hospital by Mitch, who of course, cannot leave behind Cathy or Lydia. As they start to edge away from the garage, we see that Melanie and Lydia are in the back seat, with Melanie, clearly sapped of her strength due to her injuries, leaning against Lydia's shoulder. Hitchcock cuts to Melanie's hand grabbing Lydia's, followed by an approving smile from Lydia, who knows that Melanie trusts her. For Lydia, who doubted the sincerity of Melanie earlier in the film, she knows now that Melanie is a caring person, one who will be right for her son. This is of course, done with only a few fleeting images and it's evident that Hitchcock's early training in silent films paid off handsomely, as with other scenes - most notably the one late in the film where Lydia and Cathy cannot speak as they must endure another bird attack in their home. It's a marvelous scene, once again chilling for what is not said, as the various characters must embrace and feel the touch of another human if they are to survive the randomness of the bird attacks.

Fortunately, Hitchcock and Hunter never explain why the birds are attacking, even though the patrons at the diner come up with various reasons. "It's the end of the world," mutters the charming drunk at the end of the bar. Any explanation for the behavior of the birds would have been tremendously disappointing, which is why the final shot of the four characters in a car driving away from the home amidst thousands of huddled birds, is perfect. We cannot explain nature, Hitchcock is saying, so in times of chaos, the need for love, our strongest human emotion, is what will save us.

Directors on their Craft

A collection of quotes from directors on their particular field of work:


"A film is - or should be - more like music than like fiction. It should be a progression of moods and feelings. The theme, what's behind the emotion, the meaning, all that comes later." - Stanley Kubrick


"Learning to make films is easy. Learning what to make films about is very hard." - George Lucas


"Making a film that's supposed to be fun to watch is really hard - that's the weird irony of it." - Steven Soderbergh


"We went into this with the utmost respect for the source material, but we recognized the need to change it." - Sam Wood

"A film director has to get a shot, no matter what he does. We're desperate people." - Elia Kazan


"A good movie is three good scenes and no bad scenes." - Howard Hawks


"When I grow up, I still want to be a director." - Steven Spielberg


"We tend to do period stuff because it helps make it one step removed from boring everyday reality." - Ethan Coen

"I mean, the truth of the matter is, I like the failures as much as I like the successes. It's only the world that doesn't like the failures." - Sydney Pollack


"I mean look, I love movies, not just the ones I make. In fact, I don't like the ones I make very much." - Alexander Payne


"I don't try to guess what a million people will like. It's hard enough to know what I like."  - John Huston


"I've found that the more experts you have on a movie, the less control a director has." - John Frankenheimer

"I have ten commandments. The first nine are, thou shalt not bore. The tenth is, thou shalt have right of final cut." - Billy Wilder

Too Many Ingredients

Things I Don't Understand, the new film from writer-director David Spaltro is like one of those entrées served a a chic eatery with too many ingredients. The dish is certainly interesting and there are some unique flavors, but you wish the chef would have simplified things, as it most surely would have been much more satisfying.

This is not to say that Things isn't an interesting and watchable film; any project with as many misfits as there are in this modern urban tale is worth your while. But the film is all over the place, rarely finding a center, as there are just too many subplots.

This is the second film for Spaltro, whose initial work Around, was quite enjoyable (read my review here.) That work, largely an autobiographical opus about a young man getting over his anxieties in his move to the big city of New York and making his way through film school, was endearing and quite honest. Now with Things, Spaltro has expanded his vision and his storytelling, giving us a group of characters that have problems everywhere they turn, be it their self-identity, getting a job, making enough money to pay the rent as well as getting laid. Did I mention they have problems?

The main character, Violet Kubelick (Molly Ryman) is writing a thesis about what it feels like to die; she interviews people that have had near-death experiences. One day she meets a very young woman named Sara (Grace Folsom) who has bone cancer as well as a lung condition that combined give her only months, perhaps weeks to live. Violet is a bit insecure when first meeting Sara and more than just a bit unsure of what to say to her. Sara does her best to make Violet feel at ease, but it takes time for Violet to make sense of this situation.

Violet lives with two roommates, one male, Remy (Hugo Dillon) and one female, Gabby (Meissa Hampton); he's a wannabe musician who refuses to get a real job, while she's an actress trying to get her new play produced. Together the three struggle to make enough money to keep the place they're living in, which just happens to be conveniently located above a bar, tended by Parker (Aaron Mathias), whom Violet wants to sleep with in the worst way.

This jumble of characters and story lines make for some interesting moments, but much of this is formulaic (Gabby's play is ridiculously New Age, Parker's got a secret he doesn't want to tell Violet, etc, etc.). It's when Spaltro deals with the relationship between Violet and Sara that is when this film really grabs our attention; it does that with sharp dialogue, fine acting and uncomplicated direction.

At one point, Violet lays down with Sara in her bed at the hospice at which she is a patient. Violet has become less anxious with her visits to Sara, as she realizes that this terminally ill patient has a better grasp on life's mysteries than most of her friends. Still Sara wonders why she has to be a victim and why she has to die so young. It's a beautifully written scene and it's the best in the film, no doubt as it's about the most heartfelt.

If the film had dealt with more honest emotions such as this, Things I Don't Understand could have really been a treasure. It's just not that insightful and as I tired of the mess these characters have to deal with, I grew a bit weary of the film; for me, this was 15-20 minutes too long.

It really is a shame I didn't care for this film as much as I thought I would, as I did enjoy Around. In some ways, Things displays a film making maturity for Spaltro, as a good portion of his writing is nicely done, while his direction is subtly handled. He doesn't go for weird camera angles or any visual tricks, settling for simple two shots and closeups to let the actors tell the story. He's quite good directing his performers and a few of them deserve special mention. I like the energy of Dillon, who brings a nice sense of humor to what could have been a stereotypical "loser" role. Also, I admire the performance of Ryman, who also starred in Around; she has a natural quality to her and is believable at every moment. I think Spaltro has discovered someone who could become a star, as audiences identify with her frankness on screen as well as her "girl next door" good looks. My one criticism of her is that she tends to roll her eyes whenever she delivers an ironic line; once is enough, but three or four times is a bit much. Still, she has to carry the film and is up to the task.

My favorite perfomance here is by Folsom, who makes for a nice counterpoint to Ryman. She has an endearing charm about her and it's hard not to root for her character. She delivers her self-effacing lines with great humor and ease and it's in her scenes that we really care about the overall message of this film.

So a mixed review for me for Things I Don't Understand, as this is slightly disappointing film, despite some funny and touching moments. Here's hoping that for his next film, Spaltro will keep combine his ingredients with a bit more simplicity.

A Noirish Western

Pursued (1947) directed by Raoul Walsh, is a largely forgotten film in this underrated director's body of work. Shot in gorgeous black-and-white by the great cinematographer James Wong Howe (sorry about the colorized photo, but I couldn't find a b&w image), this is an introspective, moody Western with obvious film noir overtones. It's a film you're not likely to forget after one viewing; two viewings display the texture of the film to an even greater degree.

The story concerns one Jeb Rand (Robert Mitchum) who is seen in the opening sequence riding across the open spaces of New Mexico to a small cabin in which he was rescued as an orphan by a widow named Mrs. Callum. Jeb watched his father and mother be gunned down in this cabin, but was able to hide under some floorboards so as not to be seen; he can't recall what exactly happened years ago (the film is told as one long flashback) except for a pair of jangling spurs.

Mrs. Callum took the boy in to live with her and her two children Thor (Teresa Wright plays the adult Thor) and Adam (portrayed by John Rodney as an adult). The three of them have a typical childhood on the ranch, getting into small fistfights and quarrels much like any set of siblings, but the difference here is that Jeb, while treated as a member of the family, is not a blood relative, so by the time Thor and Jeb reach early adulthood, she professes her love for him and asks her to marry him; this is certainly a semi-incestuous relationship that was a bit daring for the late 1940s.

A side plot concerns a harsh man named Grant (a beautifully subtle performance by Dean Jagger), who seeks revenge against every member of the Rand family, for reasons I won't give away here. Thus Jeb is constantly on the run in this film, trying to escape the henchmen of Grant, who are all too willing to obey his orders to kill Jeb.

But Jeb is also in a constant feud with Adam, who believes that Jeb has prospered from Adam's work on the ranch when Jeb was fighting in the Spanish-American War (interestingly these two decided which one would join the army via a coin toss; Jeb lost. This notion of chance is certainly a common theme in film noir). Adam also sees how Thor and Jeb are attracted to each other and despises him for wanting to take Thor away from his mother and he.

This is a hypnotic, introspective Western that has many themes that turn up in Walsh's best films, especially High Sierra (1941) and White Heat (1949). Like both those works, this is a portrait of a man who is constantly on the run. Jeb is not a gangster or evil man as are Roy Earle (Humphrey Bogart) in High Sierra or Cody Jarrett (James Cagney) in White Heat, yet he share similar feelings of loneliness and despair. There's also the angle of an unusual love affair in this story as in those films; this one turns out better for Jeb and Thor than they do for the other couples.

Walsh's direction alternates between long shots amidst canyons and wide-open vistas and tight shots amidst the claustrophobia of a cave or a small room in a house. The remarkable work turned in by cameraman Howe is quite something; many scenes are at night and are barely lit - one mesmerizing image is of Wright walking across a pitch black room with only a candle to light the scene. The blacks are deep blacks and the whites - when they appear - are bright white, making this a real black and white film- gray is rarely a part of this film's visual storyboard.

Pursued was preserved by the UCLA Film and Television Archive in association with Republic Pictures. Among those who funded this project was none other than Martin Scorsese. The film, except for a few brief scenes early on, looks marvelous as we see b&w photography take on a Gothic, paranoid, film noirish look that instantly deepens our empathy for the characters in this slightly perverse tale.

Pursued takes us to a world in which one man deals with his present troubles, all the while trying to figure out the mystery of his past. Along the way, some characters battle him, while others try to help him to varying degrees, but ultimately, it's one man against the world, a universal theme so dazzingly portrayed by Walsh and Howe.

Documentary Channel: "War Photographer"

As part of their "Weekend with Oscar"programming from February 23-26, Documentary Channel will show War Photographer, a brilliant film about the work of photographer James Nachtwey.

Directed by Christian Frei, this 2001 film (it was nominated for an Academy Award as Best Documentary Feature) was partially inspired by a quote from famed combat photographer Robert Capa, who said that "if your pictures aren't good enough, you aren't close enough." Both Nachtwey and Frei subscribe to that theory as we see in the scenes of human loss amidst the tragedies of war. Frei's camera is often literally over the shoulder of Nachtwey (it is close enough for us to see the readout on his camera as to shutter speed and ISO), as when he is photographing a grieving mother who is crying for the loss of one of her sons. At first, we the audience almost feel like voyeurs; should we really be watching this up close? Shouldn't this woman have the right to feel her terrible loss in privacy, without both a still cameraman and a movie maker filming her agony?

That was a bit of a problem for me, but later on Nachtwey explains his technique, saying that it is all about complicity. "A stranger with a camera gives them (those who are caught in war's crossfire) a voice in the outside world." Nachtwey explains that if it were a random act of violence during normal times, taking images of the suffering would be unthinkable, but that "these photos are OK during war."

Given that remark, it is clear that Nachtwey believes he is performing an important, indeed critical role. One look at his finest work is evidence of that, especially the photos of the undernourished in Africa. Most of us have seen similar photos in the past, but few have the heart-wrenching nature of an adult man who look as though he barely has any strength, crawling on all fours. You see this photo and you want to look away; given this personal reaction, clearly the photographer has performed his job brilliantly.

Frei interviews several magazine editors who have worked with Nachtwey for years; their comments on the man and his work are major strengths of this film. Hans-Herman Klare, editor of Stern magazine in Germany, talks of Nachtwey as being "a remakably uncynical person." He looks at this man's photos, declaring that these images are "beyond my understanding." The shocking photos from Rwanda inspire Klare to say that the refugees are "taking the express elevator to hell." Christine Breustedt, editor-in-chief of GEO Saisson magazine in Hamburg, remarks that Nachtwey has "a library of suffering in his head."

The filmmaker lets Nachtwey share his thoughts; at one point in the film, he says that he looks on his photos "as a form of communication." Thinking about the public reaction to the real life horrors of his images, the photographer is critical of how is work is viewed. "Society has become more obsessed with celebrity and entertainment and fashion. Advertisers don't want their products displayed next to human tragedy." Nachtwey said this a decade ago; one wonders how he would feel about this today!

While Nachtwey is first and foremost a photographer who puts himself in harm's way on the front lines of combat, he does shoot images of the impoverished as well. One of the most moving sequences in the film is when Frei follows Nachtwey in Indonesia, as he takes photos of a poor family who literally lives on the gravel between train tracks; express trains pass by only a foot or so from their "home." The father of one family has only one arm and one leg and we see him enduring his everyday life, such as taking his children to a nearby river to bathe or standing on his one crutch in traffic begging for any money he can get for food. This man never complains and Nachtwey captures him in the most effective way he can with his camera - as well as his years of experience. This sequence is not only a tribute to what Nachtwey does, it's also a testament to the inner strength of the human spirit.

There have been a number of political documentaries made over the past decade in which the filmmakers (on both sides of the ideological fence) have taken clips and assembled them to fit their argument. These works may be cleverly made, but they often lack honesty. War Photographer on the other hand takes a simple and clear path by showing us visions of the madness in our world, as captured by one of this generation's finest photographers. This is a powerful and stirring documentary that is a masterwork.

War Photographer will be shown on Documentary Channel on February 23 at 8:00 PM EST.

Documentary Channel: "Weekend with Oscar"

From February 23-26, Documentary Channel will be hosting its "Weekend with Oscar,", four days in which the network will focus on excellence in documentary film as recognized by the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences. There will be 10 interviews with this year's Oscar nominees; also 20 documentaries that won or were nominated for an Academy Award (both feature and short subject) will be shown.

The topics of these films range from a 1967 film made to celebrate Canada's centennial to a look at a basketball legend dealing with his sons to an offbeat glimpse of the National Spelling Bee. Most of the films however share a theme of war, especially the reality of soldiers dealing with their post-combat lives.

Here are capsule reviews of several films that will be shown from the 23rd to the 26th:


Hardwood - This 40-minute film was directed by Hubert Davis, son of former Harlem Globetrotter Mel Davis. The elder Davis fell in love with a white woman, a taboo relationship in the 1960s and fathered a son with her; he went on however to marry a black woman and fathered a son (Hubert) with her. The film deals honestly with Davis' failures as a father and as the film ends, we see him begin the healing process. While the ending is a bit pat, this is a very watchable film that does explore the differences between the two sons, especially in their physical appearance. And there are some fun clips of the Globetrotters at work at their most engaging. (Shown on 2/26 at 10:00 PM EST)


Helicopter Canada- The title tells it all with this film, produced as part of the 100th anniversary celebration of Canada. Given the beauty of this country, one would expect some mesmerizing images here, but you really don't get your money's worth. One sequence shot from above has workers stringing telephone wire across a forested landscape. You watch this and wonder how this has anything to do with the spirit of Canada. The folksy narration doesn't help either. This is quite a disappointment. (Shown 2/23 at 4:00 PM)

The Story of the Weeping Camel - This feature length film is a charming and highly entertaining tale of a family of goat and sheep herders in the Gobi desert of Mongolia and their existence. We see how dependent they are on camels for transportation and so when one female camel abandons her newborn white colt, the family knows they must do whatever they can to remedy the situation, even going so far as to hire a traditional musician in a distant town to soothe the camel with his playing. Much of this film has no dialogue, as we watch this family deal with its everyday realities, from taking baths to preparing meals and even heading to a town to buy batteries for a radio. A wonderful human story that shows us how these people in a faraway land have the same wants, desires and emotions as all of us. (Shown on 2/23 at 6:00 PM).

Seeds of Destiny - Oscar winner for Best Documentary Short Subject in 1946, this is a shameless look at the atrocities of the Second World War, especially as it affected young children. The filmmakers took Nazi propaganda film and used it against the Germans here, which is fine, but they also show image after image of very young children who were maimed during the war. While the desired effect is to be heartbreaking, the result is that of individuals trying to make the American audience feel guilty enough about their success in contrast to the terrible situation of the inured youth. Apparently it worked, as more than $200,000,000 was raised for relief efforts as a result of this film. A fascinating film, if only for the aspect of seeing how far someone will go to tug at one's heartstrings. (Shown 2/25 at 10:00 PM)

Spellbound - The title is the most clever thing about this feature length documentary that deals with the 1999 National Spelling Bee. One would think this would be a pretty easy documentary to make- just interview some of the contestants along with their parents and then show the competition. That's exactly what director Jeffrey Blitz does and the results are modestly entertaining. Unfortunately as the field of 247 finalists get whittled down to a precious few, Blitz fails to take advantage of the situation, as there's no sense of tension here. Worse yet is an unbelievably annoying musical score by Daniel Hulsizer that basically drains the story of any humanity. His down-home, folksy musical drivel, most often performed by harmonica, xylophone and guitar is meant to be cute (I guess), but it is totally out of balance with the visuals, draws attention to itself and quite simply, is just awful musically speaking. This music clearly ruins the film, not that there was much substance here anyway. There are a few good moments as we see the confused look on some of the contestants' faces as they hear the words they are asked to spell, but this isn't enough to recommend this simplistic film. (Shown 2/26 at 8:00 PM)

Interviews with MyLai Veterans - Winner of the 1970 Documentary Short Subject Oscar, this 22-minute film contains interviews with five soldiers who were part of the combat team at the MyLai massacre in 1968 in which American troops murdered several hundred Vietnamese, most of whom were unarmed. The inerviews, conducted by Richard Hammer and photographed by Richard Pierce and the great Haskell Wexler (the film was directed and produced by Joseph Strick) are simple and to the point as the soldiers are asked about their experiences and emotions of that day. Some express remorse, others merely tell the tale in a matter-of-fact manner, while others point out the actions of fellow soldiers who seemed to show no regrets about this event. One soldier tells his frustration at the everyday aspect of the war; "Wherever we went, we sort of bred the enemy. He just came out of nowhere." Another soldier at the end of this film says, "I guess you could say it was senseless." When there is a story this horrific, often the best approach to telling it is to simply let things play out, as there is no need to further sensationalize the tale; the makers of this film accomplished this brilliantly. (Shown 2/23 at 10:00 PM)

A Forgotten Gem from John Huston

We Were Strangers (1949) is a beautifully crafted film from John Huston that shows the director at his most passionate and urgent, as he gives us a world in which the little man, the everyday man who suffers at the hands of a corrupt leader, must fight this injustice for the good of his countrymen as well as his own soul.

The film is set in Cuba of 1933 where real-life President Machado leads a government that "made a mockery of human rights" as we are told in the opening titles. The people had suffered under this leadership for seven years and a few small cliques are starting to form on the streets; their aim to take back the rights they have been stripped of. Huston includes a quote from Thomas Jefferson; "Resistance to tyrants in obedience to God." We have no doubt where the director stands on this matter.

To combat the unrest among the people, a politician loyal to the president urges the Senate to pass a bill that will make assembly of four or more people in public an act of treason against the government. The head of the Senate asks the elected officials to vote; one by one they stand in support of this legislation. Huston gives us closeups of a few senators who clearly oppose this, but as they realize that their true feelings will lead to the ruin of their career (or worse), they too stand in support of the bill, which is passed unanimously.

We then see a car with four people maneuver through the streets of Havana; this group is distributing leaflets reading "Viva Cuba Libre." A few members of the public pick up these papers and as they read them, the police arrest them as they carry out enactment of the new law.

The police follow the car and are able to shoot the driver; he is left for dead by the others who must save their own skin. They meet with China Valdes (Jennifer Jones), a bank employee who is the brother of Manolo, one of this group. They discuss strategy and soon afterwards as they make their way through Havana, a policeman named Ariete (Pedro Armendariz) shoots and kills Manolo in clear daylight. China sees this from a short distance away; she knows that Ariete is the murderer, but he does not know that she saw him perform the killing.

The following day, China attends a pre-arranged meeting with Tony Fenner (John Garfield), an American businessman who is in Cuba ostensibly to find talent for entertainment revues, but is, in reality, there to fight for the people of Cuba. Funded by money from ex-Cubans living in the United States, Fenner has a plan to win back the freedom of the populace. He will dig a tunnel under the main cemetery and explode a bomb just underneath the crypt of the Contreras family, a member of whom is a popular politician supporting the government. Fenner's plan is to assassinate him and detonate the bomb at the funeral when the president and other heads of state are present.

Photographed in shadowy black and white by Russell Metty (a great cinematographer who would go on to film Orson Welles' Touch of Evil  in 1958 in similar starkness), the film does a nice job of portraying the dark grittiness of the everyday people as opposed to the brightly lit, well-dressed world of the government officials. It's a nice touch to have the people who have been wronged literally doing their fighting underground, while the police wander the streets above.

An intriguing theme in this film is the question of how these men must live with their decision after they are told by one of the ringleaders that innocent citizens may be killed as a result of their deeds. "Should we, who are trying to free Cuba become murderers too?" asks one of the conspirators. Each man wrestles with his conscience, ultimately convincing themselves that they are serving a greater good. It's complexities such as this that lets the viewer relate to these troubled individuals.

As with many Huston films, plans go awry, as the digging leads to a figurative dead end, through no fault of these men. They will now have to come up with another plan to take back the government, an approach that will put both Fenner and Valdes directly in harm's way.

Huston's direction is urgent, yet he does not rush things here; instead he takes his time explaining the caper. There are many closeups which are appropriate here, both in terms of physical space in the frame (digging a tunnel under the cemetery), as well as emotional satisfaction, as we see the faces of the individuals who tell their stories of how they have been wronged by the government. The closeups of Fenner are especially meaningful; we rarely see his eyes and often half of his face is covered in darkness. Given that Fenner has a vital secret to share about his role in this mission, this sense of mystery is a perfect visual metaphor.

Huston co-wrote the screenplay with Peter Viertel, who adapted the novel Rough Sketch by Robert Sylvester. The dialogue is smart and efficient as much of it is expository, as we learn of the various plans suggested by both Fenner's team as well as by Ariete. However, there are a few speeches in which the revolutionaries speak of heroism in the face of oppression that are a bit overwritten. Toward the end, one of the men who has been digging the tunnel says "It seems as we were the only six people alive," a passage that clearly draws attention to itself. Thankfully, lines such as this are kept to a minimum.

Huston delivered a heartfelt film with We Were Strangers that paralleled his world view of resisting fascism and demagoguery. Though it's easy to see why a dark, noirish-film about a fight for freedom in Cuba would not be a box-office success only a few short years after the end of the Second World War - and at the same time the HUAC hearings were beginning in Washington, D.C. - it is a shame that this film has largely been forgotten. While it may not reach quite the brilliance of his best works, such as Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948), Fat City (1972) or Wise Blood (1979), this is an excellent work that ranks near the top of his portfolio, one that argues that all of us, no matter what side we are on, are flawed to some extent. Our hope is that we recognize those failings and can work toward a common goal for the good of our fellow man.


P.S. There are reports that Lee Harvey Oswald watched this film in the months leading up to the assassination of President John F. Kennedy in 1963. One can certainly understand why Oswald would be enamored of this project; of course, there is the plot to kill a president but there are also images of pamphlets very similar to the Fair Play for Cuba leaflets that Oswald distributed in the streets of New Orleans just a few months earlier. This certainly makes for an interesting, somewhat eerie footnote to this work.