CLOSE-UP (1948)

This seventy-six-minute drama offered one or two surprises during its first run, but it is no surprise today that it was produced by a small studio with the male and female leads somewhat resembling more famous Hollywood celebs. Distributed by Eagle-Lion Films for Marathon Pictures, it is a pretty good tale of fleshing out a Nazi war criminal who has never been brought to trial. The film begins on a comedic note, allowing the characters to endear themselves to the audience. It is never a dull moment with quips flying left and right. Thank the screenplay by John Bright and Max Wilk for these. Additional dialogue was supplied by the director, Jack Donohue. The humor takes a back seat, however, as the plot unfolds.

Alan Baxter is a newsreel photographer in New York City. At times, he appears and sounds like a young, nasal-toned James Gregory. He opens the film with a voice-over that introduces his character and sets the stage for his tale. While on assignment for a high-fashion shoot outside a bank, he unknowingly films a Nazi war criminal, Richard Kollmar, exiting the bank. One of Kollmar's operatives was at the same location and realized the danger of releasing the photos. He buys those frames of film based on a phony story. But it is only a print. Kollmar demands the original negative.

Enter magazine reporter, Virginia Gilmore, looking familiar as the then-current, more famous Jane Greer. Baxter, being a gentleman, is always on the lookout for an attractive female. Gilmore's silk stocking-wrapped ankles are the ticket. They hit it off, one reporter to another. But hold that thought. Baxter is kidnapped by another Kollmar associate, Phillip Huston, posing as a policeman. He and his henchman take Baxter aboard the intimate surroundings of a Staten Island ferry. I was hoping there would not be a “chase” in such small quarters with the usual up-and-down staircase pursuit. But Baxter is in constant motion and does a nifty getaway by stepping onto another ferry going the opposite direction at the dock. All feasible. Director Donohue handled it well.

Still needing the negatives, a goon is sent to kill Baxter's boss, but he never leaves the office. The film's negative remains on his dead body. Baxter gives instructions to his waiting cabbie, Sid Melton, to take the canister to the police if he does not return. Unsuspecting Melton is hit on the melon, and the negative is again on the move. The film switches to an “ankle cam,” focusing on a pair of post-war nylon stockings. In the background is her boyfriend, Huston, as the audience gasps to learn instantly of Gilmore's backstory. In the meantime, Kollmar hired a seaplane to fly him out of the country. Huston accompanies him with Baxter restrained at gunpoint. Huston has plans to double-cross Kollmar, who suspects as much. Huston is eliminated, and Kollmar dashes to the plane with Baxter in pursuit. A sympathy call from Gilmore sent the police to the docks. Kollmar's “ticket” is canceled, and the seaplane heads for open waters. Despite the well-meaning call, Gilmore is going to be without nylons for some time.

Note: Comedian, Joey Faye, (above left), plays Baxter's assistant and is responsible for a big dose of the humor. He pretends to be a cool operator with a camera and the ladies. He has better fortune with the former and comes off as the unknown fourth stooge with the latter. Faye should be appreciated for his delivery, timing, and physical comedy. He ends the film on a comedic note. Not being entirely incompetent, he had the foresight to bring his camera to the shore to film the ending, headlining story. As he steps backward, he falls into a motorcycle sidecar as it speeds away. His camera, still rolling.

BLAST OF SILENCE! (1961)

“You do not have to know a man to live with him. But you have to know a man like a brother to kill him.” So sums up the main character in this oxymoron-titled film, reminiscent of a college-crafted art film project. Primarily known as a director, Allen Baron's oddball approach might be compared to a film student who is allowed artistic freedom to do whatever he wants to get that “A” grade. All his cash and loose change are used for this budgeted film, which accounts for its starkness. Even a big band jazz score is used with restraint. This is not a film to be shot during the rejuvenation of spring. Like the lead character's future, winter is also bleak.

My opening paragraph is not intended to be critical. Baron's project packs a wallop and could be the most expensive-looking film from such a limited budget. He embarrassed all "his fellow film students." I can only imagine a coffee house’s beatnik banter the day after the film's premiere. The film's “artsy” tone is set as the film opens with a shaky white spot in the center of the screen, which is both frustrating and thought-provoking. As the voice-over narration cryptically spells out Baron's backstory, the white spot gets larger and resolves itself into a train tunnel’s opening. Later, a similar effect is used on the streets of Manhattan as we watch Baron walk toward a low camera from a very great distance. In total silence. Ingmar Bergman would be envious. 

Baron plays Frankie Bono, a name surely found in a top ten list of underworld figures. Visually, he is a cross between George C. Scott and Robert De Niro. In fact, the latter could fill this role without anyone knowing the difference. There are no studio sets to be found here. All filming takes us to the actual neighborhoods of New York City as we witness Baron's lonely, emotionally damaged and pessimistic life unravel. Rarely has location shooting looked so expensive―an almost documentary feel―as we follow the detailed workings of a carefully efficient hitman.

Mel Davenport’s narration features the distinctive wood-chipper voice of Lionel Stander. Aside from the myriad of interesting camera positions, his expressive voice-over is another defining element of this film. The long, drawn-out scenes of watching Baron go about his systematic contract procedure would be lifeless without it. The narration reflects Baron’s conscience and inner thoughts. We learn of Baron’s disgust with his contract hit, a mob boss. He is repulsed by his high lifestyle and hates his mustache because it is there only to hide the fact that he has lips like a woman's—so says Stander.

The cinematography will have the viewer reaching for a warm hoodie. Baron seems to be just another shopper as he passes decorated storefronts with real-life pedestrians, unaware they are being filmed, appearing as “extras.” Christmastime provides no happy memories for Baron. He hates it. Under gloomy, overcast skies, the final scenes at Spring Creek in Brooklyn are particularly effective, despite using what sounds like the sound effect for the flying scenes from the old The Adventures of Superman television show, as the relentless wind bends the tall grasses and removes men’s hats. 

All the characters in this film are as ordinary as your own friends might be. Hopefully not this strange. These are people captured in their own world of monotony and self-doubt. Molly McCarthy returns after her underwhelming performance in The Great St. Louis Bank Robbery as a longtime interest of Baron. Once again, McCarthy's acting is tolerable at best. Their relationship has no future, even without her knowing what he does for a living. The slimy and weirdly whispered opening performance by the bearded Larry Tucker is particularly creepy. His lines are delivered as if auditioning for the Don Corleone role. Calm but dangerous. His closest companions are a herd of rats in cages. I believe it was Alfred Hitchcock, referring to his film, Torn Curtain, who imagined how difficult it must be to actually kill a person with your bare hands. Tucker's demise is quite gut-wrenching. To say Baron is not affected by the murder would be unrealistic. Baron takes no pleasure in his lifestyle. Today’s films unrealistically have a psychopathic murderer delighting in torturing someone to death by the most diabolical means.  

Note: One cannot ignore Dean Sheldon's acting as a nightclub singer. Sheldon is perhaps best known for his film career. This movie. His performance is a slippery slope between lounge singer and beatnik. Outside of any murders, these might be the most brutal scenes in the movie. Though one cannot deny his total commitment to selling the songs.