NIGHT AND THE CITY is unusually set in post-war London. Seldom have we seen London with the vast, shadowy,
and go-for-broke brilliance we come to expect from New York, particularly in black and white film. Blacklisted director Jules Dassin and
cinematographer Max Greene flood the screen in darkness — the location scenes
are all about silhouettes, imperfectly lit faces, and cavernous murkiness. London’s stately and quaint charms are stowed
out of sight, and its seedier infrastructures overshadow everything.
Richard Widmark plays Harry Fabian, a man desperate for the
right scheme that will pay off big. He’s
a man always on the run from his debts and always on the verge of falling over
the edge. As one character says of him,
he’s “an artist without an art.” He has
the love of the beautiful and loyal Gene Tierney, but it’s not enough. Those are the quintessential hallmarks of
film noir — a man who is his own worst enemy, being stalked by dangers all
around him, and grasping for dazzling heights to pull himself and his girl out
of impoverished obscurity.
Fabian’s latest scheme is to become the top promoter of
wrestling in London, but he’s hustling in established territory run by a crime
boss named Kristo (Herbert Lom). To make
matters worse, Fabian is borrowing money from a cuckolded nightclub owner
(Francis Sullivan) who knows his wife (Googie Withers) is colluding with
Fabian. It’s not a question of if
disaster will hit the fan, it’s a matter of when. And in Fabian’s case, it’s when his
maneuverings result in the death of Kristo’s own father. Kristo puts a price on Fabian’s head, and the
entire network of London’s underworld is lit up and ready to turn Fabian in. Widmark takes a final, frantic run through
the city, but he can’t escape.
Richard Widmark was one of the most unsettling and nuanced
actors of the film noir genre. His first
film was KISS OF DEATH (1947) in which he played a killer with a singularly
inappropriate laugh. He would star in other
genres, notably Ford’s last western CHEYENNE AUTUMN (1964) and war dramas like JUDGMENT
AT NUREMBERG (1961). Still, it’s safe to
say that the fascination for men on the run, who cast and dodge shadows, would
be diminished without Widmark’s contributions.
From the very start, we know that Fabian is a loser, but the
beauty of film noir is that he is still the one to watch. His ambition drives everything. His shotgun ascension ensures the inevitable
fall will be that much more spectacular.
Fabian laments, “I had it all in the palm of my hand.” It’s the power of cinema to deliver the
agonizing twist of fate that fleeces him and sends him over the edge to his death.
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