El demonio de la noche

HE WALKED BY NIGHT (1948) has such a raw, bare-bones feel to it, a real "you are there" aura. A cheerless loner (Cold as an ice bomb Richard Basehart) kills a policeman. The search of the killer begins. This little B-film has so many unforgetable scenes, they drive in one after the other. (The police picking up every vagrant in the city searching for the cop killer, the look on the targeted cop's wife's face when she gets the bad news) My favorite scene is one that does not move the plot along, but creates such an uncomfortable mood. In it, Basehart tries to fish a bullet out of his arm at his sink as his dog yaps and whines in the background.

Well worth catching.

So, I have this film to thank for the series "Dragnet."

Certainly, "Law & Order" also had its start with this wonderful "B" movie. The production is quite good, with excellent performances, and great location filming.

Many users have questioned this film's technique, implying it is hokey or cliché. That is certainly missing the point. THIS FILM STARTED the whole genre, in a way. And, keeping in mind that this was not produced by a major studio, I am quite satisfied with its quality.

"Film noir"? Perhaps......although it shares the look, more than the concept of that genre.

I recommend this film.

These comments are being submitted by Sgt. Mary Wynn's oldest son, Charles S. Wynn. I do have several additions and corrections regarding your comments about my father. The Walker case was one of several outstanding cases that was investigated by Sgt. Wynn and partners. Over the years, my brother and I would sit and listen to these stories being retold by the officers who worked the case.

Comment #1 I can never recall him being referred to as "Tough Guy." Comment #2 The movie, "He Walked by Night" was produced by the Eagle Lion Studio. My father was contacted and asked if he would give the technical direction. While doing so, he met a down-and-out actor named Jack Webb. Webb had a ten minute part as a lab technician in the movie and was not depicted as a detective. During one of their conversations, Wynn mentioned to Webb, "It's a shame they don't have a radio show that depicts the actual policeman and the work that he does." At that time, the lead detective show was "Sam Spade."

They derived the title, "He Walked by Night," to the fact that he committed most of his crimes at night. The film, itself, was not accurate. The use of the storm drains in the City of L. A. was strictly Hollywood. When Walker was captured he was located in a rented bungalow located on Argyle St. in L. A. Three officers, Donohoe, Wynn and Rombo, entered this location at 2:30 A.M. surprising Walker while he slept. A physical confrontation took place. Walker was armed with a machine gun at which time he succeeded in getting the clip into the weapon. Donohoe yelled, "Shoot him, Marty! He's got the gun!" Wynn took him down, striking him numerous times over the head with the butt of his 38 revolver. Walker, still struggling and in possession of the gun, Wynn then put the gun to Walker's back and fired twice. It was noted that when Wynn examined his gun, he had cracked the grip of the pistol. When Walker was placed in the ambulance, he asked Wynn, "Do you have any kids?" Wynn said, "Yes, I have two boys." Walker replied, "You're lucky because you came close to not seeing your kids again." At that time, he told Wynn, "they will never execute for this crime and I will live to see the day where I will kill you." In 1959, Walker succeeded in escaping from Atascadero. Three days later he was captured. Wynn was forced to strap his 38 again after two years of retirement.

If you desire any more information regard Sgt. Marty Wynn or the film, please contact me at this e-address.

Based on a true 1946 Hollywood Police Department case, "He Walked By Night" is an early attempt at a "police procedural" film. It has a semi-documentary look combined with many of the conventions of film noir (thanks partly to cinematographer John Alton). Many of the outside scenes were filmed in or around actual locations. Richard Basehart plays a loner who is well-versed in electronic technology, guns, and police procedures. He's able to stay one step ahead of the cops because his paranoia and attention to detail keep him in a constant state of alert. It's also helpful that he listens in with his police-band radio. For a time he confounds the Hollywood cops because he changes his modus operandi. He begins as a break-in artist who steals electronic equipment, but when he kills a suspicious young policeman and loses some of his tools, he turns to armed robbery of liquor stores. Nobody can find him because he travels through Los Angeles in its underground storm drains, where he has hidden stashes of guns and other survival equipment. We also follow the cops as they make use of whatever little information they're able to gather on Basehart's character, and slowly they do close in after several missed opportunities and track the killer into the storm drains, where the play of light and shadow really takes over. One of the cops in "He Walked By Night" is played by Jack Webb, and there's no question he got the inspiration for 'Dragnet" from this film. For starters, "He Walked By Night" begins with a sky pan of Los Angeles and scenes of everyday Hollywood while the narrator gives a kind of "this is the city" speech. The police scenes are often very quotidian (sometimes to the point of being overly detailed), with cops tossing in small talk like "how's the missus? glad to hear it" before they ask other questions. Much of the pacing, attitude and overall feel of "Dragnet," which began as a radio show a year after this film and then moved to TV in 1952, is already here. The final scene in Los Angeles' storm drains ("seven hundred miles of hidden highways," according to the narrator) provides probably this film's most memorable images. Its set-up and execution are remarkably similar to Orson Wells being chased through the sewers of Vienna in Carol Reed's "The Third Man," which was filmed a year later and likely inspired by "He Walked By Night." And who knows, it might also have given a few ideas to the makers of "Them" a couple of years later when they revisited the L.A. storm drains with their giant ants. Ultimately, Basehart's character remains an enigma. We never learn that much about him. "He Walked By Night" isn't a great film, but it's an enjoyable look at postwar police work and primitive forensics.

Alone in a cheap motor court with only a mutt dog and a squirrelly landlady, Roy Martin (Richard Basehart) lives an underground existence. He's got no friends, no girl, no job, yet he's one of the more fascinating creations in the noir pantheon. Just when you think he's out of tricks, he pulls out a shotgun as the cops close in. He's hidden one deep inside a storm drain for an emergency like this. Now we know what he does with his time-- he's a one-man army against the machinery of modern society.

But wait, he's not against the plug-in kind of machinery. Martin's a closet genius at modifying the most sophisticated electronics, an untrained innovator with just that kind of intelligence. Does he do it for money-- it's hard to tell. We do know he's not above presenting someone else's work as his own. However, that demeaning aspect may simply be the script complying with Production Code requirements. Businessman Whit Bissell would like to partner up with the mystery man's skills, offering a research laboratory in return. But when Martin refuses with a knowing smile, we know he's got his own drummer. And, we also know that anyone who gets in the way of that drummer turns the science whiz into a cold-blooded killer.

At first I thought it a mistake that the screenplay didn't fill in more of Martin's personal story, something that might get a handle on his extreme behavior. But on second thought, better to leave him a mystery man of rare and unfeeling talents. That way, we're free to speculate on a background instead of having to settle for some half-baked Freudianism circa 1948. The character strikes me as someone who has chosen to live outside normal bounds as a challenge to his ingenuity and resourcefulness, both of which he possesses in spades.

And it's that, I think, which makes him an unusual crime figure. Time and again, he uses those qualities to defeat the relentless machinery of law enforcement, shown in its many scientific and professional phases. Basehart the actor manages a number of subtle shadings conveying a depth of character not shown by the impersonal forces of law and order. Not that the screenplay doesn't try to humanize the cops-- that's the point of the convalescent hospital scene and the crime lab joshing. Rather, for the professionals, it's a job. For Martin, however, it's something deeper, more interesting, but not necessarily admirable.

The movie itself has an uncredited Anthony Mann written all over it, especially the scenes with Basehart. Director Mann, cameraman John Alton, and scripters Higgins and Essex are responsible, I expect, for pointing away from the rather dull procedures onto the noirish atmosphere of outlaw alienation. Of course, bit player Jack Webb saw how popular such procedures could be for a TV audience and spun them off into one of the 1950's most successful series. But it's the underground man Roy Martin, alone with his mutt dog and inner demons that makes up one of noir's most fascinating crime figures. And on a final note of irony, notice how close Martin comes to a last minute escape were it not for that diabolical god of the noir universe-- the Hand of Fate.