El misterio del tercer piso

Taut, weird psychothriller centers on a novice newsman who's been promoted because of stories connected to a murder to which he's the only witness. His testimony gets the innocent man (Cook, Jr.) convicted, as he discovers when his neighbor is killed by the same man (Lorre) -- who the police refuse to believe exists. In fact, our hero is now suspect #1 in the crime he was covering. His loyal girlfriend, god bless her soul, sets out to track Lorre down, even though she's never seen him.

Good low-budget noir, VERY short. Excellent photography, very odd dream sequences.

This is a classic B (not a quality-judgment, but a well-defined production level that existed before the legal consent-decree that ended studio ownership of movie theaters in the early 1950's. B-movies were lower-budget features, between 55 and 70 minutes, using second tier talent - rising actors or ex-stars on their way down - designed to play the bottom half of a double-feature with an A-picture. The studios needed to produce a certain number of these pictures to keep their theaters supplied, and the quality was only of second importance.) Very often, the low budget gave the filmmakers a certain freedom, because the studio wouldn't keep very tight control on a production of such relative unimportance. B- movies sometimes served as the canvases for highly innovative directors and photographers. (Note that the talent behind the camera includes both the (uncredited) work on the script by no less than Nathaniel West, author of DAY OF THE LOCUST, and cinematography by Nicholas Musuraca, who went on to shoot such atmospheric classics as CAT PEOPLE, CURSE OF THE CAT PEOPLE, OUT OF THE PAST, and the vastly under-appreciated psychological thriller THE LOCKET.)

The late William K. Everson, a fanatical private film collector and one of the greatest film historians, used to show this picture in his B-movie class at NYU as an example of "Films made on one set." The one set in this case is the street scene, although the staircase of the apartment building is also prominently featured. The street was, of course, a standing set that appeared in many films. But if you watch the film carefully, you'll realize that many of the other settings are hardly more than lighting effects on a bare sound-stage. The so- called "surrealism" of the film is a triumph of turning low-budget necessity into an effective style.

As to the claim that it's the first film noir, that's pretty questionable. Film noir really was born in France in the late 30's (there's a reason why the term is French). "Le Jour Se Leve" is probably the best-known example. It was characterized by the dark settings as well as the dark pessimism of its mood, using shadows to separate people, and to fragment the image of the individual. This is certainly an early American film noir, once again because of the spareness of budget forced the use of shadows to hide the lack sets.

This is a very enjoyable, effective thriller, taking us from a rather mundane, plausible reality into a wild nightmare. Lorre's brief appearances become the engine of the fears, that frightening presence you expect to find in every shadow.

An interesting film noir with Peter Lorre in more of a cameo as the mysterious villain than a starring role. He appears briefly, lurking darkly as he attempts to avoid a confrontation with the hero, not saying a word until the final ten minutes of the film. With a fairly nondescript cast, Lorre received top billing for what must have been a fairly easy few days' work. The film runs for just 64 minutes and is not unlike one of the Hitchcock tele plays in prime-time television in the 50s. Boris Ingster includes some creative moments with the dream scenes impressive. I particularly liked the angular images of the prison bars with the gruesome shadow of the electric chair. The ending is a little glib for my liking and the plot fits into place just a little too easily resulting in a fairly banal ending to what could have been a more complex psychological thriller - I thought for a while the hero had actually committed the two murders and that may have been a more interesting development than the more obvious ending. This film was shown on ABC television as part of a series of Film Noir and I was impressed with the superb quality of the print. 2 stars out of 5.

If Peter Lorre had not spent the early part of his career on the stage he would have been excellent in German silent films, this movie proves it. 95% of his role is silent and he carries it off beautifully. Director Boris Ingster seems to have been influenced not only by the German silents (particularly those photographed by Karl Freund) but also by Jean Cocteau. Certain angles and lighting during the dream sequence that takes up one-third of the movie, and especially the death chamber scene, appear inspired by LE SANG D'UN POET (1930). Mr. Ingster also seemed interested in making a social commentary. Notice how during the trial of Joe Briggs (Elisha Cook Jr. who steals every scene he is in) not only a juror but also the judge himself must be prodded awake. The public defender does not really give a hoot about saving his client and the reporters don't care if an innocent man goes to the chair because either way it will make a good headline. After seeing the buildup to such dramatic intensity with not one but two innocent men accused of brutal murders some people might groan at how things get so neatly wrapped up at the conclusion. If we look at this movie as an early entry in the American "film noir" genre the ending seems perfectly normal with bizarre happenstances solving themselves and Fate taking a hand to release three men from a living nightmare (yes, I am counting The Stranger because he too "escapes" from his torment in a way). If you like spotting character actors look quickly for Donald Kerr (DEVIL BAT) and John Harmon (MONSTER OF PIEDRAS BLANCAS) in small roles. Watch for Bobby Barber, publicity agent for Abbott and Costello, popping up in a cameo as an Italian grocer!

The Film Noir Encyclopeia lists Stranger as the first true film noir. It's not hard to see why. The lengthy interior dialog, the grotesque dream sequence, and the expressionist lighting, all bespeak the arrival of a noir universe. Over the next ten or so years, this European style would encompass a number of film genres, seeping even into that most American of all, the Western ("Blood on the Moon", "Roughshod", et al.). I can only imagine how 1940's audiences greeted this abrupt departure on first showing.

Except for Lorre, it's a no-name cast, although Tallichet makes for a charming leading lady with a captivating smile. The absence of a familiar face (John McGuire) in the male lead actually helps. Instead of seeing a celebrity in a starring role, we see an unknown that might even be us. And so, both he and we are drawn deeper into a nightmarish web of guilt. Notice how the lighting becomes steadily darker as McGuire's anguish deepens, with shadows that are almost all appropriately angular and threatening. Also, note director Ingster's very real feel for the ethnic vibrancy of a New York street even though it's recreated on an RKO sound stage. This sense of a community life outside the third floor makes for an interesting contrast with McGuire's growing inward turn.

Too bad the script fails to match the visuals in imagination and stylishness. It's really pretty conventional, except for the nicely ironical twist of having the jury-trial deficiencies turned back upon McGuire in the dream sequence. Good thing they had Lorre outfitted with buck teeth and doing an exquisitely loony menace, because the climax itself is very unimaginatively staged. It could have come from a thousand other more ordinary films. Anyway, for fans of noir and movie historians, this obscure little production remains essential and entertaining viewing.