Les frontières de la vie

A pungent period flavor of post-war New York elevates Maxwell Shane's The Glass Wall. If it's not quite noir (its idealism disqualifies it), it sure looks and feels like noir. As well it should, coming from the writer/director of those unambiguous noirs Fear in the Night (1947) and its remake Nightmare (1956).

In his first American film, Vittorio Gassman plays a stateless stowaway who's caught before his ship sails into New York harbor. Detained by immigration authorities, who won't believe his story that he qualifies for special consideration for aiding the Allies during the war, he's due to be returned to Trieste and certain death. But he jumps from the deck onto the docks, smashing his ribs, and starts stumbling around the city looking for the G.I. who can vouch for him (Jerry Paris). All Gassman knows is Paris' first name, and that he plays clarinet somewhere near Times Square (when we catch up with Paris, he's auditioning for Jack Teagarden's band).

During his nocturnal search, he runs into Gloria Grahame, who's very down on her luck. A sharp little minx who used to affix the tips to shoelaces for a living, now she steals coats from Automats (it's one of her more captivating performances). Grahame's at first wary of Gassman but quickly won over – his tale of woe makes her troubles look paltry, and he's the first guy to treat her decently. So she lets him hide out in her garret room (his escape makes the front pages) and helps him search for his old pal.

There's a beat-the-clock element that keeps the story moving: Gassman doesn't know that Paris has seen the tabloids and will vouch for him – or that his options will expire at dawn. And Shane stews the path with obstacles as well as with good Samaritans (Robin Raymond as a stripper with a heart of gold – another `Hunkie' – touchingly among them).

As the sky lightens, the desperate Gassman reaches the place he thinks will be his salvation: The forbidding `glass wall' of Wallace K. Harrison's just-completed United Nations Headquarters. But the building's empty of all but janitors, and Gassman still doesn't know that he's still safe....

The Glass Wall's a modest movie that overcomes the handicaps of its dated and idealistic `message' to succeed as a well told and acted human interest story. But it triumphs in its presentation of mid-20th-century Manhattan, as vividly raffish as in any movie of its period.

Aboard a Liberty ship, Vittorio Gassman passes the Statue of Liberty, prior to docking in New York, only to be informed that as a stowaway, the authorities are not at liberty to grant his liberty and accuse him of attempting to take liberties. What a liberty!

Desperate to avoid deportation and sustaining broken ribs in the process (just to add to the missing finger nails and bayonet wound he has already received courtesy of Hitler), Gassman succeeds in jumping ship and escaping into the city. His objective is to locate Tom, (Jerry Paris), a jazz clarinetist and former soldier, whose life he saved during the war. Proof that he contributed to the allied cause will allow him permanent residency in the U. S., but it is a manic race against time and in a city of eight million people, the odds are not in his favour.

Enthralled by the razzle dazzle, the affluence, opulence and optimism of Times Square by night, including the shot of a cinema showing Alan Ladd and Lizabeth Scott's Red Mountain, he remains, nonetheless immersed in the trauma of his own past and uncomfortably isolated. His search leads him to several jazz joints, where we are treated to cameos by Jack Teagarden, Shorty Rogers and the all too fleetingly glimpsed vanguard of the quiet avante-garde, groundbreaking saxophonist Jimmy Giuffre.

Along the way, he befriends misfit and kindred spirit Gloria Grahame, on the run from unwisely stealing burly Kathleen Freeman's coat, which would have looked like something from Rent a Tent draped over her comparatively sleek frame. Ignoring Petula Clark's advice they decide that the subway is the safest place to spend the night, before the anguished immigrant makes his last-ditch attempt to reach the U. N. building.

Gassman ticks all the boxes as the troubled, insecure loner, haunted by a tortured, mysterious past, injured, on the lam and embroiled in a race against the clock. The rest of the cast consists of officialdom, Gassman sympathizers and jazz musicians. Not even a whiff of a femme fatale, a corrupt syndicate or a hoodlum in this unusual noir. The closest we come to a gangster is an acne ridden teenage street punk, who hopes that Grahame gets hit by a garbage truck.

There is much to applaud in The Glass Wall, but it's not all good news....and on that subject, would one illegal immigrant REALLY be the hottest story in New York, dominating all the front pages? Whilst Joe Turkel's swaggering, over the top tirade smacks of an 'I'm way too cool for THIS movie' bravura. Gassman himself falls victim to the over acting bug, delivering a tsunami of idealistic platitudes concluding with an impassioned 'Nobody listens!' before promptly scarpering from the people who ARE prepared to listen and taking the world's fastest elevator to the roof.

However, the compassionate nature of the subject matter, the performances of Grahame and Gassman, with their 'You and me against the world' mantra, sharply tapping into our empathy with the underdog, the sights and sounds of Times Square under darkness and the jazz vignettes, all synergize to carry this movie over the line. Confronted by The Glass Wall, can those who love and support Gassman provide him with... The Glass Key?

The plot of this movie is as fresh as today's news about refugees, asylum seekers, detentions and deportations, sensationalized images of immigrants, and the question of who gets to come to the US. Peter Kaban, a displaced person seeking to enter the US (Vittorio Gassman in a touching performance), escapes from detention and begins a desperate search through nighttime New York for the jazz musician who can corroborate his claims to having saved the life of an American soldier. The story has potential as a remake (sub Syria or Honduras for Hungary, etc)!

The America the writer-director (Maxwell Shane) portrays is not the wholesome suburbia many folks associate with the 1950s, but a tough tawdry urban jungle of sexual harassment, single moms surviving as strippers (Robin Raymond in a sympathetic turn), shabby single-room occupancy buildings,exploited factory workers, kids who have to dance in the street for coins, homeless people sleeping in subways, and desperate people eating food left behind in restaurants...brilliant imagery with a Noir atmosphere.

I did not fully understand Peter's story as a displaced person. He says clearly enough that the Nazis murdered his family and that he had been in Auschwitz, but he does not fill in much between WW II and 1953 --and so in 2018, it is difficult for us to understand exactly who he is and what happened to him in that period. 7-11 million people were wandering through Europe at the end of the war as "displaced persons": Jewish survivors of the Holocaust; Poles, Germans who had lived in Eastern Europe, and Ukrainians; refugees from the Baltic countries that were incorporated into the Soviet Union; and some Nazi collaborators fleeing the Soviets. The US passed strict and rather controversial legislation as to who could come to the US (e.g., only people who were already in displaced person camps by 1945 as well as many other rules), and Peter evidently did not match the approved profile. Maybe viewers in 1953 understood the context more clearly than the average viewer does now.

I'm no authority on the film noir genre, but Glass Wall had enough of the elements as I understand them -- gritty, urban streets; smoky, downstairs jazz rooms; beaten-down characters with nothing to lose; an urban milieu that suggests a struggle for existence; and the overbearing presence of authority -- to be a very satisfying film for me. The plot is simple, has elements of suspense, and is a bit contrived at times, particularly near the end, but I found it easily sustained my interest throughout the film. In a nutshell, a Hungarian refugee, Peter Kaban, who has stowed away on a ship docked in New York's port, is denied entry, and thus escapes into the streets of NYC where he must find the man (now a club musician) whose life as a soldier he saved in Europe during the war, and he must find him before the immigration authorities, supplemented by the police, find him, and before 7:00 AM the next day when the ship leaves port and his legal status becomes such that he would then never receive legal permission for entry into the U.S. New York's gritty survivors either aid him or exploit him, and nobody's life looks easy.

Much of the film, particularly the street scenes, were said to be filmed with hidden cameras, and that touch gives an active, life-like realism to Glass Wall. The city looks so vibrant and active at night with the various types of humanity jostling each other for a good time, companionship, or just simple survival, economic or otherwise. Vittorio Gassman plays the Kaban role, and perhaps he looks too delicately good-looking to suggest the utter determination of his character as he roams the streets of New York, while severely injured and harassed by almost everyone, to prevent deportation back to Hungary; but for sure,a handsome face on a character hardened by concentration camp experiences can mask an iron will. You have to root for Peter Kaban because despite the horrendous experiences of his brief life, his personality retains a decency and kindness that eventually wins over his initial, also desperate, female accomplice and also helps with his other female helper. Eight points for making Times Square look again to be a social magnet on what has to be a bustling Saturday night!

"Playhouse 90"-style drama of Vittorio Gassman trying to enter our country after World War II. He meets Gloria Grahame as she is stealing a coat (!) and finds her shabby room gloriously comfortable. I found it all quite entertaining: great music (jazz), cinematography, grubby characters who are nice to look at. The immigration theme is well-done but with a few annoyingly goofy plot turns.