Film Noir Series: The Set-Up (1949)

Robert Ryan as Stoker Thompson

My latest Film Noir Spotlight entry for Next Projection. The sixth film on my list is The Set-Up (1949).

Before there was Raging Bull, there was The Set-Up, Robert Wise’s brutally devastating glimpse into one night in the life of an aging, struggling boxer. It’s no great surprise, then, to hear Martin Scorsese waxing poetic about the influential merit of the film on the DVD’s commentary track. The Set-Up is a potent noir classic; a gritty documentary-type film made well before such a style even existed.

Right from the opening frame, it sets itself apart from other Hollywood releases in the late-1940s. Devoid of any soundtrack, the opening credits pan over a brutal fight in a boxing ring – a perverse, violent “dance” that only ends when one man is finally knocked out, to the crowd’s roaring approval. Robert Wise, a director often associated with his upscale musicals like West Side Story (1961) and The Sound of Music (1965), zeros in on the sights and sounds of a boxing match to recreate an authentic atmosphere.

Based on a Joseph Moncure March poem (which, in actuality, had a black ex-convict at the heart of its narrative, not a white boxer), The Set-Up moves along briskly in real time. At 35 years of age, Bill ‘Stoker’ Thompson (Robert Ryan) is considered “over-the-hill” by the bloodthirsty mobs that flock to the sweat-drenched boxing matches at the Paradise City arena. His own manager (George Tobias) is so sure that Stoker will go down in his match that he takes “dive” money from a gambler who goes by the pseudonym Little Boy (Alan Baxter) – and neglects to inform Stoker. Despite desperate pleas from his wife, Julie (Audrey Totter), to retire, Stoker insists he has one more big fight left in him.

The film unfurls slowly, gradually familiarizing the audience with Stoker as he prepares for his duel in the ring against a much younger opponent. With its revolving door of compelling secondary characters, all of whom offer their own personal tales of woe and victory, The Set-Up is a stripped down tale of the physical and psychological struggles of men like Stoker. All the boxers in the room are big dreamers although, judging from their anxious chatter, they are all too aware that their one-time shot at fame is fleeting.

Lensed by cameraman Milton Krasner, you can practically smell the stale air and feel each punch thrown. Alternating between intimately brutal, bloody close-ups and jarring wide shots, the fight scenes demonstrate both stunning choreography on the part of the actors and superior camerawork by the crew. Like gladiators in the Coliseum, the men in the ring are modern day warriors, complete with a powerful fan base that can be heard screaming and stomping from their dressing room. The crowd is comprised of those who place the bets and those who just love a bloody exhibition – like the blind man who has his friend narrate the fight sequences and the housewife who embarrasses her husband by screaming obscenities in her quest for more blood.

With his weathered features – complete with cauliflower ears, five o’clock shadow and upper lip sweat – Ryan breathes life into the role of Stoker. Considering his years as a boxer in college prior to acting, Ryan is a natural, carrying himself like a battered, yet determined, athlete. Looking as though he carries the weight of the world on his shoulders, Ryan gives a remarkable performance. His Stoker is one of the finest incarnations of a struggling athlete in film. His scenes with Audrey Totter as his wife, Julie, are particularly compelling, adding depth to both of their characterizations.

The Set-Up remains a startlingly raw slice-of-life narrative that more than earns its place as an influential noir classic. It balances a superbly crafted story with exquisitely choreographed fight sequences, all of which is anchored by an understated, naturalistic performance from Robert Ryan. It’s a knockout.

FINAL GRADE: A+

Film Noir Series: Born to Kill (1947)

My latest Film Noir Spotlight entry over at Next Projection. You can check out the review HERE. The fifth film on my list is Born to Kill (1947).

A beautiful woman watches a tall, brooding man playing a game of craps at a casino. She watches him out of the corner of her eye as he rolls the pair of dice. When their eyes eventually meet, the man’s mouth lifts into a tiny smile. This wordless exchange lasts only a couple of moments, but the powerful connection between the two leads at the centre of Born to Kill is undeniably palpable.

Based on the James Gunn pulp novel, Deadlier Than The Male, this oft-overlooked noir is arguably one of the nastiest incarnations of the genre. Adapted for the screen by Eve Greene and Richard Macaulay, Born to Kill goes against type by featuring a female in the lead – a woman just as despicable as her male counterpart. This unconventional noir doesn’t rely on the familiar tropes of the genre. The film is devoid of any flashback narratives or voice-overs provided by a down-on-his luck private eye. Instead, the plot revolves around the two villains at the centre, one of whom happens to be a man with a seductive edge.

Beautiful socialite Helen Brent (Claire Trevor) finds her soul mate in the form of a psychotic murderer named Sam Wild (Lawrence Tierney). After her first glimpse of him at the casino, she’s drawn to his dark good looks and finds his grim persona irresistible. When she discovers that Sam is behind the grisly murder of an acquaintance, Helen keeps her lips sealed, preferring instead to recount the bloody scene with him privately, with breathless passion. It’s violence as foreplay for Helen and Sam. In a reversal from the traditional femme fatale seducing the lead male, it’s actually Helen who can’t help but get caught up in Sam’s tangled web of violence and deceit. There’s just something about Sam that immediately draws a person to his side – everyone agrees to help him get away with murder, from his loyal friend Marty (Elisha Cook Jr.) to Helen’s own foster sister, Georgia (Audrey Long).

Lawrence Tierney and Claire Trevor

Despite its stationary camera, the visuals in Born to Kill create a compelling, sometimes haunting, atmosphere – whether it’s a shot of dark shadows obscuring the corpse of a young woman or the image of Sam menacingly crouched in a corner of the room only moments before committing a double murder. Such visuals serve only to heighten the tension, more than making up for the films often-static camerawork.

As Helen, Claire Trevor is nothing short of a revelation. Her barely concealed desire for Sam and her flippant attitude towards his violent nature touch on the dark recesses of her own soul. She hides her true nature beneath a warm and welcoming exterior, a façade that only begins to crack when her own freedom, or that of Sam’s, is under serious threat. As one character tells her: “You’re the coldest iceberg of a woman I ever saw.” Shrewd and manipulative, Helen takes what she wants and it’s a pleasure watching Trevor triumph in the role. She’s so good that you’ll catch yourself rooting for Helen.

Despite not being a strong enough actor to bring out the smaller nuances in the character of Sam, Lawrence Tierney is still strangely alluring in the role. We don’t know why Sam is so angry, only that he’s a hardened sociopath who can “make people or break them.”

In the minor role of private investigator Matthew Arnett, Austrian actor Walter Slezak excels as portraying the sleazy underbelly of a man less interested in justice and more interested in monetary gains. Although the role is under-written, Slezak succeeds at portraying yet another loathsome character in a film full of such types.

With two mesmerizingly evil lead characters, Born to Kill manages to wade through its melodrama to present an exciting and unconventional noir that is both dark and deliciously wicked. 

FINAL GRADE: A-