Tres desconocidos

One of the most unusual facets of the movie that struck me was the gowns/dresses designed for the lead actress--they stood out in this black and white movie making a not-so-tall Geraldine Fitzgerald look tall and elegant. Very few films have costume designs that out-do the performances--this film is one that achieves this unusual distinction.

Equally unusual was the written prologue for the film on the statue. It wreaked of populist myths of the Orient and then ended with the statement that the film's location was London. One expected British mannerisms and accents and its distinctive transport--but the only reasons for the choice of the locations seemed to be the legal system, the law on Trusts, the pubs, the mention of Canada being far away, the South African mines, and the solicitor's office. The rest was distinctly American. Curious stuff.

The film was equally curious for another factor: two women Icey and Janet look disturbingly similar, two men look considerably alike Mr Shackleford and Mr Fallon, save for their difference in height. Was there some reason for this or was this a coincidence.

Apart from these details, the film provided much of the fare that "The Maltese Falcon" made cinema history--John Huston's screenplay and the enigmatic performances of Greenstreet and Lorre. Greenstreet did not have the brilliant lines of "Falcon" to aid him but his chortling performance is nevertheless fascinating. Lorre on the other hand provides the best performance because the grey cocktail of good and bad touches the viewer. Similarly the lead character of Fitzgerald leaves the viewer wondering whether the character deserves our sympathy or not.

At the end, the viewer is forced to see ourselves in the mirror--we are but pawns of a mightier force, and none of us is either a villain or a saint. The film quite unwittingly makes the viewer think about life. That is probably why this film ought to rate better than "The Maltese Falcon" which no doubt has more catchy dialogues but less substance.

It was over 20 years ago that I first encountered this small cinematic treasure, on the now-defunct indie KHJ-TV, channel 9 in Los Angeles, but it was not at all by accident. Having been enthralled by the magic that is "Casablanca" some years before, I had been seeking out other films like it made by Warner Bros. in the late 30s, 40s and early 50s. Specifically I was after more work by that classic's storied supporting cast: Paul Henried, Sydney Greenstreet, Peter Lorre, Claude Rains, S.Z. Sakall and Joy Page, among others.

"Three Strangers" gathers two of those and weaves them into a unexpectedly amoral tale of the cost of reversing fortune. Lorre plays a fallen gentleman who fallen into a bottle and thus into some dicey company, while Greenstreet plays a solicitor who's been a tad too speculative with his trust accounts. The underregarded Geraldine Fitzgerald joins them as the mysterious woman who randomly gathers the other two off a London street to see if they'll take a chance on an ancient Chinese proverb coming true.

"Three Strangers" if anything goes "Casablanca" and that other Huston/Lorre/Greenstreet classic, "The Maltese Falcon," one better in the world-weariness department, with moral ambiguities and ambivalent characters straight out of films noir made five years later. Unlike those other two films, though, there's little likability to be found in the lead characters' roguishness --- save perhaps for Lorre, who gets redeemed by a "good" woman's love at the end.

Yet that very fact makes "Three Strangers" play out like a much more modern film (like one from the early 1970s, say), rendering it an intriguing admixture of old-style character-driven plotting and contemporary moral waywardness and antiheroism.

The time is 1938 London before the World War. A woman of mystery, Geraldine Fitzgerald, invites two perfect strangers played by Peter Lorre and Sydney Greenstreet up to her apartment. She's a believer in the ancient Chinese god of Kwan Lin and it's said that if Three Strangers wish on that deity and their's is the same wish it will be granted. In this case the wish is money and it's in the form of a sweepstakes ticket that Peter Lorre has purchased and who gives two thirds away to Fitzgerald and Greenstreet in the hope of fortune coming their way.

After this we see a glimpse of the lives of the three people. Lorre is a petty criminal who's gotten himself into a beautiful jackpot being accused of a murder that he didn't commit. Fitzgerald is a shrewish wife who stays married to an unhappy Alan Napier who just wants to be free to marry Marjorie Riordan. This is a harbinger of a role that Fitzgerald really perfected a dozen years later in Ten North Frederick. As for Greenstreet, he's a solicitor, an attorney of no great significance in the legal profession, an English version of a man whose name I was once threatened with named Abe Hecht. It's now become a synonym for cheap shysters with me. Anyway Greenstreet's the trustee of an estate he's been dipping into. He wants to make a financial killing real bad because he thinks that money will buy him respectability which he craves like nothing else.

The film is like a 90 minute version of a Twilight Zone episode, but that's not a putdown because some really classic stuff was done on that program. The script was written by Howard Koch and John Huston and directed by Jean Negulesco. I'm surprised Huston did not want to direct this one himself, but Jean Negulesco got some of the best performances that members of the cast ever gave on screen, especially from the three leads.

Notice no really big movie names are in this cast, no leading men screen legends. That may have been an asset to the film because it concentrates on the story and the characters created. The ironic fates of all three of the sweepstakes ticket sharers could have come right out of the imaginative mind of Rod Serling. And Peter Lorre is actually allowed a little romance in a movie. That alone makes Three Strangers absolutely priceless.

Three Strangers is a B picture gem, one of those low budget sleepers that Hollywood puts out to great critical acclaim that turn a profit because of the low budget. And this review is dedicated to that attorney Abe Hecht whom I never met and to his idiot brother-in-law Morris Stetch who threatened me with him back in 1979. To see if Greenstreet obtains the status of a Clarence Darrow and rises from Abe Hechtdom, don't miss Three Strangers.

Three Strangers is not a typical Hollywood film. Dark and philosophical, it introduces the viewer to three people, strangers to one another, and then follows their sad, desperate lives. While one reviewer on this site says it's a shame they don't make movies like this anymore, the fact is, they almost never made movies like this back then. This is far less neat and more philosophical than your typical 40s flick, a movie about strange twists of fate and the ways in which people fail to take responsibility for their actions.

The cast is excellent, with Peter Lorre particularly impressive in one of the best performances of his career as an alcoholic who thinks too much and does too little. I was also quite taken by Joan Lorring's touchingly vulnerable performance as a girl in with the wrong crowd.

Admittedly the ending ties things up in a neat little bow, yet for the most part this movie is far closer in spirit to the indie movies of the 1990s than to the film noirs of the 1940s it could be mistaken for.

Why is Three Strangers, a 1946 movie, set in the London in 1938? There's nothing in the story that links it to a particular time. But in 1938, Britain had yet to be drawn into the long and arduous war to come, when gallantry and self-sacrifice were the orders of the day. The characters in Three Strangers are mirthlessly ungallant and single-mindedly self-absorbed; relegating them to the fool's paradise of the year before all hell broke loose was a diplomatic courtesy.

But a movie centered around three unappealing characters presents another, more immediate problem: The problems they bring on themselves do not compel much sympathy. The movie opens before midnight as the Chinese New Year is about to strike. Geraldine Fitzgerald has been trolling the streets to bring two strangers (Sydney Greenstreet and Peter Lorre) back to her flat. Her quest is not sexual but ritualistic: The Chinese goddess of fortune, a statue of whom graces her drawing room, requires the gathering of three persons unknown to one another before she will grant her annual wish. When all the conditions and codicils have been duly haggled over, the three agree to wish for a winning sweepstakes ticket.

Then they part ways to return to their separate hells. The grasping, manipulative Fitzgerald has driven away her husband, who returns from Canada with a young woman he wants to marry. The avaricious Greenstreet, a solicitor, has been plundering his clients' accounts to speculate in stocks. The alcoholic Lorre (by default the least offensive of the trio) finds himself on death row for a policeman's murder committed by one of his low-life friends who framed him. Their individual stories unfold and, in ironies reminiscent of de Maupassant or O. Henry, ultimately reconverge. As expected, Jean Negulesco directs handsomely but can't overcome the emotional vacuum in John Huston's script: The fates of these three strangers leave us cold.