Les Démons de la liberté

BRUTE FORCE This intense, powerful drama stars Burt Lancaster as Collins, a prisoner who's got to find a way out, and Hume Cronyn as the sadistic Captain Munsey, who delights in torturing the inmates. Cronyn is masterful -- cast wonderfully out of character, his slick, soft delivery takes on a skin-crawling menace. Lancaster is appropriately hard and driven, but the fact that he's breaking out to be by his dying girlfriend's side seems facile. The weakest elements of this film are the flashbacks to how his cellmates got locked up. (It seems obvious these scenes are contrived to introduce women into an otherwise all-male cast.) It turns out none of them are really bad guys except Lancaster, who appears to be some kind of gangster. We aren't given much insight into his character; we know he's smart and a leader, but he's clearly got a tendency toward violence. Ultimately, however, it's not about how they got there, but who they are when they get there. It's about what pushes a man past his breaking point and what happens after that. Weaknesses aside, this is a worthwhile, thought-provoking film with excellent performances all around.

Though I'd only previously watched this movie once almost 25 years ago on a long-defunct Sicilian TV channel called Antenna 10, some scenes have stuck with me to this day and being able to reacquaint myself with the film was a long-cherished prospect which, thanks to Criterion, I now have.

The film is the epitome of the great, hard-hitting prison dramas of the 1930s, but the style in which it was filmed also makes it fall in the "Film Noir" category. This was only Burt Lancaster's second movie but he is already a tough, powerful screen presence and his character is one of the most respected within the prison community. The casting (in characterizations which would be much imitated in subsequent prison films) is perfection: pint-sized Hume Cronyn is very effectively cast against type as the quintessential brutal prison captain of the guards, Charles Bickford is the bigwig inmate who gets things done, Sam Levene is his reporter sidekick. Lancaster's gang includes Howard Duff (making his film debut), Jeff Corey (as a surprising 'rat'), suave ladies' man John Hoyt and Whit Bissell as the most vulnerable and least likely inmate who falls victim to Cronyn's "brute force". There's also Jay C. Flippen as an easy-going prison guard, Sir Lancelot as a happy-go-lucky jack-of-all-trades whose songs often sarcastically comment on the action, Vince Barnett as an old-timer who brings food (and messages) to the most dangerous inmates currently serving in the drainpipes, and an uncredited Charles McGraw as an arms dealer. Actually, one of the best roles in the film – the alcoholic, philosophizing prison doctor who is the only one genuinely interested in the fate of his "patients" – is splendidly portrayed by an actor who was unknown to me, Art Smith, and his confrontations with Cronyn offer some of the film's quiet highlights.

While the film itself offers relatively little new in terms of plot – a few of the prisoners are planning a breakout, the sadistic and power-hungry captain is more evil than the inmates themselves, an informer is punished during a staged scuffle, a traitor is present within Lancaster's gang, the climactic escape is a botched massacre, etc – and some of the plot points rather contrived – Sam Levene being sent to the drainpipes, which results in his being tortured by Cronyn – but Dassin's assured handling still makes all of these situations work superbly well. Ironically, after a period directing mostly light fare, this was the start of a peerless run of five noir classics – culminating in his celebrated caper film, RIFIFI (1955), made while exiled in France. Curiously enough, another Hollywood exile would later on basically make the British equivalent of BRUTE FORCE – i.e. Joseph Losey's exceptional THE CRIMINAL (1960) – while the failed prison break (in similar circumstances) also brings to mind Jacques Becker's masterful swan song, LE TROU (1960).

Like THE KILLERS (1946) before it, this was a Mark Hellinger production (it features no less than four actors from that film) and so would be Dassin's follow-up – THE NAKED CITY (1948). Miklos Rozsa's music is very good and subtly underscores the action. Unfortunately, the four flashback sequences added to the film to show that the hardened criminals here are good-natured people at heart, are mostly redundant and basically only serve to provide some female interest to the story; still, they are brief enough not be detrimental to the film's overall uncompromising bleakness. Incidentally, while screenwriter Richard Brooks was involved in this capacity with several noirs – the others being THE KILLERS itself, CROSSFIRE (1947), KEY LARGO (1948) and MYSTERY STREET (1950; which I recently acquired via Warners' fourth "Film Noir Collection" but have yet to watch) – he never revisited the genre once he graduated to the director's chair (though some sources do list his Mexican Revolution-set CRISIS [1950] and the crusading newspaper story DEADLINE – U.S.A. [1952] under this flexible banner).

Burt Lancaster and cellmates plot a daring breakout. Okay, sounds like a thousand other prison movies, but what makes this the top of the prison genre are the elements. Watching the characters in this gem is like staring down a cobra- they're so fascinating. There are the unique cellmates: meak accountant Whit Bissell driven over the edge, a learned, elder prisoner (Charles Bickford) the tough Burt Lancaster, etc. etc. Most memorable is Hume Cronyn (his greatest film performance) as the soft spoken, neat-nick psychotic Captain Munsey, a prison official who takes so much delight in beating prisoners, he plays his favorite music and strips to his t-shirt during beatings! Grand screenwriting by future director Richard Brooks. Cellmates have only one wall decoration, a picture of a glamour girl. She reminds each cellmate of a different woman who caused them to do time. The dialog crackles loudly: (Sample- Bickford to Lancaster about a cellmate plotting a break: "He said next Tuesday is the day of the break. He's been saying that about every Tuesday for the last twelve years. Twelve years from now, he'll be saying the same thing....") Hey Universal, put this wonderful classic on VHS!

I've read recent reviews of this film that condemn it for being "outdated" or not "relevant". Um, hello? This movie is is fifty-seven years old! As such, we are treated to typical 1940s Hollywood stereotypes and acting methods, not to mention references to the recently completed war. Yet, even within the pitfalls of the studio system, this film shines as a great example of film noir.

Director Jules Dassin is brilliant with light, and sets the example for the French "new wave" of cinema. Lighting Burt Lancaster from the side, or from underneath, makes him and the other actors look almost surreal.

Most of the dialogue is "clipped" and preposterous, but films from this era often suffer from this same problem. Yet "Brute Force" retains its original power simply by virtue of the dynamite performances, the stirring score, and the gritty techniques of Dassin.

I had to smile during the scene where Hume Cronyn's character turns up the Wagner on his hi-fi so the guards outside his door won't hear the inmate he's about to beat scream. This was mimicked during David Lynch's ground-breaking TV series "Twin Peaks" when a character turned up his radio before he beat his wife. Of course beating people isn't funny, but seeing obvious references in cinema is always a kick.

I highly recommend "Brute Force" to anyone who appreciates the art of film, great directing, and fine performances.

Remember how brutal Caged was, and how it exposed the filth and danger in women's prisons? Check out Brute Force, the male counterpart which came out three years earlier. Burt Lancaster is the lead, personifying the title in only his second movie. He's in prison, alongside Charles Bickford, Jeff Corey, Sam Levene, John Hoyt, Jack Overman, Whit Bissell, and Howard Duff. Their prison cell, R17, is shown so often the film might as well have been titled after it, because the cell itself seems to become another character. Each man has a different story about how he became incarcerated, and through flashbacks, we learn the circumstances, and in some cases, the innocence of the men behind bars. It's a very interesting story, and even though the women billed in the opening credits, Ann Blyth, Yvonne De Carlo, and Ella Raines, have a mere five minutes apiece on the screen, it's effective since the movie is about the men and their deep desire for freedom.

Inside, the prison is run by spineless warden Roman Bohnen, who kowtows to the sadistic, manipulative guard Hume Cronyn. Art Smith plays the prison doctor, but since he's chronically drunk, his wisdom isn't taken seriously. As the movie starts, some of the prisoners play along to get on Hume's good side, but when conditions grow worse, they start planning an escape. If you like famous prison movies like The Great Escape and Escape from Alcatraz, you owe it to them to watch the grandfather of prison-break movies, Brute Force. This is a heavy movie, and at times very upsetting, but it's incredibly exciting and remarkably raw for its time. Strong parallels from The Shawshank Redemption have been drawn to Brute Force, and with good reason. If you liked that masterpiece, try out Burt Lancaster's version.

Kiddy Warning: Obviously, you have control over your own children. However, due to violence, I wouldn't let my kids watch it.