El callejón de las almas perdidas

One of the most obscure films produced by classic Hollywood. It's Tyrone Power in the role of his life and the tragedy of an ambitious circus apprentice becoming a con artist and gradually turning into a pseudo-religious guru. Both director Edmund Goulding (Grand Hotel, Dark Victory) and writer W.L. Gresham committed suicide, and one can smell suicide in this gem of a film, that is the story of the embezzlement of a gift. That circus operates as a good metaphor of the B-system Hollywood of the 40's, where geeks worked side by sided with geniuses. The tarot cards foresee the worst: there's a geek in every man's soul, no matter how big one can be, a downfall no imposed `happy ending' can hide. In this nightmare populated by fun-fairs, alcoholism and eccentric millionaires obsessed with the deceased, the film version makes use of the essential from the source novel and provides the best invention: an unscrupulous psychiatrist who records her patients on tape and then blackmails them, a device that Brian de Palma himself would have be proud of.

I first saw this film in the late 70's on a Toronto television program devoted to classic cinema. I was joined by friends who always got together on Saturday nights to watch the musicals, comedies, or classic performances offered that week. NIGHTMARE ALLEY came as a surprise. It was a raw, exposed nerve of a film. Instead of the Hollywood diction we had come to expect, this film expressed itself in 1940's carny colloquialisms. And nobody in the cast was soft - they were all hard knocks characters, almost down for the count, but still fighting. After about 15 minutes, nobody in front of that set moved until it was all over, except maybe to look sideways to see if anyone else could believe their eyes. This is a movie clawing your way to the top , and then paying the price for getting there. This is a movie about being careful what you wish for. It is a movie about odd fascinations with people who are actually messengers of your future in disguise. And ultimately, it is a movie about how futile is the love of a good woman if the man is destined for ruin. Needless to say, it was not standard Hollywood fare when made in the 40's, and it is still not standard fare today. It's message is somehow both shocking and familiar. Listen for the last words uttered, as though in offhand comment about our 'hero' by bystanders. Those words haunted me for over 20 years, until I was able to track down another showing of the film on TV (STILL not on VCR or DVD for heaven's sake!). And I remembered them correctly all that time - that's the impact they made. See this film. Surrender to it. It's that good.

In Nightmare Alley, Tyrone Power is like the George Clooney of the 1940s, yet in a role with a pathetic side that Clooney has never dared to play. His cool, his eyes, his placid stance and walk, and his immovable self-confidence. Power is however more intense in this role than Clooney has ever been in any of his roles. Colleen Grey, the female lead, is one of the sexiest knockouts I've ever seen. I am sold when she first appears in her circus uniform, the glittery skivvies revealing that she is not skinny, but given to thick curves, especially in her smolderingly pliable and smooth hips. She plays a good-girl role, the role she always hated to play, wishing she had roles like Helen Walker's, who plays a wicked psychologist, and quite well.

The story is an interesting weaving of a con game, a horrific tale of descent, and a rags-to-riches story of luck. It's intriguing. Nightmare Alley is true film noir, whether it has gangs and guns or not, because we follow a main character who is suave and personable to without a conscience and almost a little ashamed of it. There are clever crimes, wicked antagonists, and dark, cutting cinematography. It's a must for noir fans.

As other commentators have noted, once you've seen this film it haunts you. The creepy carnival milieu has rarely been better done (well, Tod Browning's "Freaks" of course) but seems more wholesome than the upscale world of nightclub mentalists and corrupt psychiatrists to which Tyrone Power ascends. Joan Blondell is carnally blowzy but she's almost upstaged by the ill-starred actress Helen Walker (the duplicitous wife in Impact) as that double-crossing shrink. No one soon forgets Power's slippery climb to the top followed by his horrifying fall. This film is a true, dark classic.

Wandered in on this classic many years ago, when it aired on WGN with no advance notice. I'd read a Houdini biography by William Lindsay Gresham, and seeing his name on this really got my curiosity up. Can't understand all the comparisons to "Freaks". They share a carnival setting, and little else. In these days of "Crossing Over", and psychic 1-900 hotlines, everybody should see this expose of the psychic business, possibly more important now, than then. Tyrone Power is excellent, playing against type, and showing more acting ability than many expected. The cast is virtually flawless, and the story remains timely. Having worked on a carnival myself, this film was very useful. Between this, and the gambling books of John Scarne, I started at the carnival with full knowledge of the scams that augmented their operations. I guess that a new print has been struck for arthouse showings, but we really need a lavish DVD presentation, with all the extras and documentation they can find!

--Judexdot1--