Though I’ve been a nut for film noir for quite a while now, I haven’t managed to become accustomed to the work of Orson Welles just yet. I have seen The Lady from Shanghai, which I found enjoyable, but not quite breathtaking.
Last night, I caught a screening of the 1998 restoration of Welles’ vision for Touch of Evil, which he starred in, wrote the screenplay for, and directed in 1958. Rarely does a film affect me the way this one did – in all honesty, I think my perception of film noir has changed forever.
I can recall the moment I fell for the genre of film noir; I was browsing the cheapo DVDs in a Target store in the middle of nowhere when I came across an $8 box set of 20 films said to be film noir. Most of them are, some of them aren’t, and a few of them are rubbish. But one of the films featured was Too Late for Tears, starring Lizabeth Scott. Never was there another femme fatale like her.
As I began to seek more examples of the genre, I started to understand the many aspects that collide to create genuine film noir; why Double Indemnity is almost always considered the archetypal example, but also how failing to see beyond that film can result in missing many, many other angles to noir.
I love gritty noir like Detour, lush and faithful examples like Double Indemnity, melodramatic noir such as The Strange Love of Martha Ivers, and of-course amazing and nasty little gems like Too Late for Tears and Scarlet Street. Yet, as I discovered last night, I am very far away from understanding every facet to this amazing cinematic movement.
Orson Welles’ Touch of Evil came at the tail-end of film noir’s classic era; 1958. Other noirs from this period, such as 1956′s A Kiss Before Dying, have left me wanting slightly more. My suspicion is that, by the 1950s, people began to understand film noir a little too much, and the genre thus became a little self-conscious.
Any assumptions about Touch of Evil will do no justice. That’s because the film is entirely unpredictable, and 100 percent original. From the opening scene – a continuous 3 minute, 30 second tracking shot – you’re drawn into not a ‘web of intrigue’, as many a noir would be marketed, but more of a deserted and dusty hell on the border of the USA and Mexico.
Charlton Heston is Vargas, a drug enforcement official for the Mexican government. His wife, Susie (Janet Leigh), is American – a pairing that raises a couple of eyebrows (not least for the casting of Heston as Mexican). The drama begins with a bang when a car explodes as it travels across the border into the USA, just metres from Vargas and Susie. As the American police arrive to investigate, Vargas begins to notice various inconsistencies in the evidence uncovered, namely by police Captain Hank Quinlan, played with groaning grotesque precision by Orson Welles. The implications of a Mexican threatening to derail the career of an accomplished American policeman provide for some fiery confrontations.
Yet, while the plot commands your attention, it’s the visuals and setting that really set the film alight. In the way that Wolf Creek and Friday the 13th exploited remoteness to make you feel afraid, Touch of Evil creates a completely new world where there is really no escape from the dusty monstrosity that is the border-town. From scene one, there is a slow-burning feeling of tension and dread. It becomes especially apparent when Janet Leigh is taken to a motel out of town to escape the harassment of the locals, only to find herself in an even more horrifying predicament (a scene said to have inspired Hitchocock’s treatment of Psycho).
Welles was a has-been in the eyes of Hollywood studios by 1958, but the talented legends of the time still held great respect for him. It was Charlton Heston who suggested Welles as director, and both Marlene Dietrich and Zsa Zsa Gabor took tiny roles simply to work with the renowned filmmaker. Janet Leigh was especially appreciative of her experiences working with Welles;
“It started with rehearsals. We rehearsed two weeks prior to shooting, which was unusual. We rewrote most of the dialogue, all of us, which was also unusual, and Mr. Welles always wanted our input. It was a collective effort, and there was such a surge of participation, of creativity, of energy. You could feel the pulse growing as we rehearsed. You felt you were inventing something as you went along. Mr. Welles wanted to seize every moment. He didn’t want one bland moment. He made you feel you were involved in a wonderful event that was happening before your eyes.”
Source: New York Times, 18/09/98.
Touch of Evil fell victim to talentless studio executives in its day. After Welles submitted his finished product, assured that his career in America was back from the brink of nothing, Universal proceeded to cut the print to pieces. The studio re-shot scenes, chopped away running time, and crudely ran the credits and title over the top of the now famous prolonged opening shot. Released as a B-picture, the film came and went, and was forgotten. Thankfully, film lovers years later knew what a masterpiece it was and it has since been restored as close as possible to the description given by Welles in a 58 page memo originally sent to (and largely ignored by) Universal’s head of production, Edward Muhl.
Regardless of how close the film is to the original intention, the Touch of Evil we now have is by far one of the most superb and disturbing film experiences I’ve ever encountered. While it’s certainly film noir, it’s unlike any other noir, or even film in general, that I’ve ever watched.
