The Sniper

"High among police problems is that of the sex criminal, responsible last year alone for offences which victimised 31,175 women. Adequate and understanding laws do not exist. Law enforcement is helpless. Here in terms of one case, is the story of a man whose enemy was womankind"

Produced by Stanley Kramer, directed by Edward Dmytryk and photographed by Burnett Guffey. Those three things were enough to make me positively desperate to see this film at the earliest opportunity, what I hadn't counted on, and what a true surprise it was too, was just what a taut and tightly scripted picture it is. Written by Edward and Edna Anhalt, who were academy award nominated for their efforts, The Sniper has an edgy griminess to it that itches away at the skin. It's not that the violence is particularly harsh, because it isn't and it's simply executed, it's that our protagonist Edward 'Eddie' Miller is on the surface a normal every day Joe, someone who may be living in our respective neighbourhoods.

This is one of those films that, and I disagree with some of my fellow reviewers on the net, is as relevant today as it was back in 1952. Problems of not recognising psychotic tendencies do still way lay our respective societies, the police and medical staff do still have problems nipping in the bud potential street walking maniacs from being in our midst. Here we get Arthur Franz ("Sands of Iwo Jima" & "The Caine Mutiny") as Miller brilliantly essaying a mind fragmenting by the day, his hatred of women born from some dark place long back in his childhood. Even little girls on the street bring him out in a sweat, as a mother slaps her child, Miller feels the burn on his very own face as well. Some scenes linger once the film has long since finished, a chimney stack shooting or a fair ground sequence as Miller's built up frenzy rises to the surface, all brilliantly put together by Dmytryk and Guffey, with the latter's work in and around San Francisco very impressive. Fleshing out the cast with impacting results is Adolphe Menjou, Gerald Mohr, Marie Windsor, Frank Faylen & Richard Kiley.

It's a fabulous character study that also excellently brings notice to the plight of police procedural matters on a case such as this. No this film isn't some sex maniac shocker that defined a genre, it is however an important film in many ways. The themes that it highlights are not to be ignored, and for 1952 this film to me has to be seen as a landmark of sorts, certainly its influence can be found in many a similar films that followed further on down the line. Finally, because it's largely unseen, it's now available on DVD (excellent print), so hopefully more people can get to see this highly recommended film. A film that may be beautiful to look at, but most assuredly is very very dark in thematics. 8/10

Almost twenty years before San Francisco was terrorized by another sniper in Dirty Harry, this well received B film from Columbia Pictures painted a far less glamorous picture of a mentally ill individual taking his problems out on the world. Arthur Franz got his career role in The Sniper and a pity it didn't elevate him to stardom although he certainly had a distinguished and long career.

Franz paints us a portrayal of a socially challenged man who just can't get anywhere with the opposite sex. He conceives a pathological hatred of all women and an innocent encounter with a nightclub performer played by Marie Windsor finally triggers him off.

After that Franz is on a rampage, killing women almost at random from various San Francisco rooftops. The film was shot on location in San Francisco and The Sniper bears a whole lot of resemblance to The Naked City where Jules Dassin made New York's mean streets as much a star as the human players. Director Edward Dmytryk does the same for San Francisco.

And the cops here are much like Barry Fitzgerald and Don Taylor from that film. Watching the film I wonder how much persuasion it took to get Adolphe Menjou to shave off that famous wax mustache of his, a remnant of fashion from a bygone era. It certainly wouldn't have gone with his role as a homicide cop. But the voice is distinctive and Menjou put it over. Acting as his younger sidekick is Gerald Mohr.

What's ironic in The Sniper is that the whole thing is a desperate cry for help to a world to busy to care. The minor key ending of The Sniper brings that point home quite vividly.

The Sniper is a noir classic, not as glamorous as Dirty Harry Callahan's pursuit of another twisted individual through San Francisco, but a whole lot more realistic.

Before one word of dialog is uttered in THE SNIPER, we witness a troubled San Francisco youth, Eddie (Arthur Franz) aim a rifle at a kissing couple. The gun is empty, and Eddie breaks down crying as the unsuspecting couple smooch. From then on, this obscure 1952 classic follows Eddie as he goes on a systematic killing spree. We also follow detecives Adolphe Menjou and Richard Kiley rationalizze the insanity and finally close in on Eddie. This film is rich in classic scenes- Eddie, who we know is uncomfortable with women, confronting sexy Marie Windsor. The suspenseful scene where a smokestack painter points out Eddie, the rooftop sniper. Eddie screams at the man to shut up, but they are clearly a half mile away from each other. All this is done in one deep focus shot. My favorite scene is when the police line up and question local sex offenders (Cop to other cops, pointing to man in line up "This is a tough guy.... with small animals." Classic noir.

The trouble is Eddie Miller (Arthur Franz) just can't keep himself from shooting women. Plus, he does it from a distance with a sniper's rifle which makes him doubly hard to catch. Today, the sex angle would likely be played up, turning him into a serial rapist. Here, however, his sick motivation looks more like pure rage than sexual desire. Everywhere he goes, he's either humiliated or rejected by women. He's attractive enough (probably too much so to be credible), but he has a personality problem. In short, Eddie simply can't accept himself as a deliveryman; instead, he builds himself up with obvious exaggerations to impress strangers, such that when pretty barfly May Nelson approaches, he ends up offending her with wild stories. Like Psycho's Norman Bates, the problem probably goes all the way back to Mom.

It's certainly a very watchable movie. The San Francisco locations are used to great effect-- the cops surveilling downtown rooftops from on high sets up a marvelous panoramic look at the city. Then too, the smokestack scene with its human fly amounts to pure cinematic magic. A problem in the film lies with too much obviousness where a lighter hand is needed. Thus, when Eddie goes on a little downtown stroll, he doesn't encounter just one woman-caused frustration, but a whole heavy-handed series of them. Too bad, because we get the idea early on that petty annoyances involving women amount to major injuries in Eddie's twisted world. Then there's the let's- hit-you-over-the-head-in-case-you-don't-get-it last scene; it's about as necessary as strip-poker at a nudist colony. Still and all, the movie's heart is in the right place, even if it appears made at times for the slow-witted.

One big benefit for 50's-era fans is cult favorite Marie Windsor in a low-cut evening gown, purring her seductive lines to Eddie even as she exploits him to the hilt. What a great cameo from a really unusual actress.Too bad their scene together comes so early because it's a pip and a movie high point. Speaking of film eras, compare the themes and locations of this movie (1951) with the cinematically similar, Vietnam-era Dirty Harry (1971). Tellingly, the hopeful reformism that Kramer&Co. plead for in Sniper has been replaced by a kind of hopeless vigilantism where Harry (Clint Eastwood) ends up rejecting city hall, killing the sniper, and throwing away his policeman's badge. Mark it down to what you will, but the change-over is pretty stark and startling. Anyway, this little B-film created quite a stir at the time and remains an interesting piece of movie history, well worth thinking about

Interesting noir from veteran director Dmytryk. Arthur Franz gives a good twitchy, sweaty performance as a sex criminal released from prison for assaulting women, only to be compelled to kill them with a stolen military rifle once free, and silent star Adolphe Menjou is the police officer in charge of stopping Franz's crime spree. As lurid as the subject matter is, the film's approach to it is admirably serious and even-handed, especially when contrasted to that taken by other films about serial killers. For example, Fritz Lang's noir "While the City Sleeps", made around the same time, features a character similar to Franz's as its villian (a disturbed young killer with a mother fixation, who leaves messages for the police urging them to catch him), but its portrayal of the murderer is comically overwrought in comparison. Some of the psychological shorthand used to illustrate Franz's fractured psyche may appear naive to contemporary audiences (stroking his phallic rifle in anticipation to his murders, wincing in pain when he passes a mother slapping her child on the street), but he's a much more realistic and credible criminal than the overheated creations that populate recent films about the same subject (Seven, Hannibal Lecter trilogy, etc). The film's sober and non-sensational tone can be attributed partly to producer Stanley Kramer; the redeeming social message that is commonly found in his films creeps into this one through the character of a police psychologist, who gives a speech about the need to change the laws that deal with sex criminals (not a lot has changed since the time this movie was released - so much for the redeeming social message). Dmytryk's direction is typically stylish (why did it become so turgid later on?), and he makes excellent use of San Francisco locations. The finale, where the police finally close in on the sniper is particularly well done, with one sequence standing out as especially memorable and effective: a construction worker gives the sniper away as he's about to claim another victim, and discovers too late that its a bad idea to cross a psychopath with a long distance rifle, especially when in the not very convenient position of dangling from a smokestack. The cast is strong, and includes a welcome appearance by B-movie fave Marie Windsor, as a bar pianist who ends up as the sniper's first victim. Nominated for an Oscar for best screenplay, "The Sniper" is fairly obscure compared to other noirs and is unavailable on video - it's really worth catching during one of its occaisonal appearances on cable TV.