La marche à l'enfer

The first 40 minutes or so of Edge of Doom are quite interesting, as Farley Granger offers a character that we sympathize with and understand. Another standout is the always excellent Paul Stewart, who portrays a no-good neighbor of Granger's. But the movie becomes predictable and rather tiresome about halfway through, and the viewer is forced to endure trite dialogue and a tired climax before it's all over. Although there are several good scenes, and strong noir overtones, the overpowering religious message is a bit much, being pounded over the viewer's head like a mallet. It's not a complete waste of time, but it comes pretty close.

When Edge of Doom was first released, audiences turned away from it with the coldest of shoulders. It was yanked out of circulation so that a pair of bookends could be shot, in which the story becomes a kind of parable told by a wise old rector (Dana Andrews) to a younger priest undergoing a pastoral crisis. The filmmakers shouldn't have bothered: Edge of Doom remains one of the bleakest, least comforting offerings of the entire noir cycle (no mean feat), and probably the most irreligious movie ever made in America.

When Farley Granger's devout but tubercular mother dies, it precipitates a rampage against everything that makes up the prison of his life: his ugly urban poverty; his penny-pinching employer who offers promises rather than a raise; the Church, which once refused burial to his father, a suicide, and is now refusing his mother the "big" funeral he thinks he owes her; the smarmy, sanctimonious undertaker. Long story short, he ends up murdering a crusty, hell-and-brimstone priest. The police nab him for a robbery he didn't commit but end up with a different murder suspect. But compassionate pastor Dana Andrews (now in flashback) suspects the truth.... There's something almost endearingly Old Left about the savagery of the indictment leveled against society's Big Guns: Church, police and capitalism. The slum where Granger lived with his mother makes Ralph and Alice Kramden's Chauncey Street digs in Brooklyn look cozily inviting (Adele Jergens, as the slatternly wife of a neighbor, observes, "Smart people don't live here"); outside, the nighttown is noir at its most exhilaratingly creepy. It's easy to see why the public, on the cusp of the fabulous fifties, shunned this movie, whose unprettiness is uncompromised. But it's as succinct a summing up of the noir vision as anything in the canon.

The great Dana Andrews gets first billing but his is a supporting role. This is Farley Granger's movie and he shows what a real actor is. It is very dour. Very sad. Sort of like Street Scene in the 1950s. There is not even a moment of cheerfulness. Yet it is very gripping and well written. I particular love the actors in the small roles. Even Ellen Corby and Ray Teal sneak in for great cameos. The movie is framed around a very unconvincing idea. Take those scenes out and this is a ten.

My dad wrote the book that EOD is based on. It is interesting to me that a film that was declared a resounding failure still elicits some interesting commentary. The view that it is possibly the most depressing noir-type film around sounds like a huge compliment to me, given what noir is always striving to do, and indeed it IS a dark film (which makes the above comment about the Stradling cinematography kind of puzzling). Also, the IMDb trivia statement that the film has never been shown on TV can't possibly be true, since I remember seeing it on TV when I was a teen.

The novel Edge of Doom used a Crime and Punishment narrative style to tell a contemporary murder story revolving around poverty in a large American city—the template was Philadelphia—and to raise issues about how devotion to church alone can not solve the ills of a modern society. The subject matter is indeed bleak, and indeed ahead of its time. It's certainly a brooding tale, but the novel as literature was considered significant in its day. How Goldwyn came to produce it as a film is a story unto itself, but there can be no doubting that if the film's creative team had stuck to their noir-ish guns, and focused more artfully on the message, it would have been a much better film, not to mention a film that might've actually raised noir above its melodramatic station. (Noir is great, of course, and it's fun to view its style, but a lot of the entries in the genre are tough to watch nowadays, simply because the dialogue is so corny.) Bookending the movie with the corny priest scenes ruined the film's chance to actually probe the poverty theme with seriousness. By soft-pedaling its style, Mark Robson and Philip Yordan failed to capture what was important about the novel. Here was yet another example of Hollywood so afraid of box-office impact that they made a difficult situation worse, when what they might've had was a critically well-received work that would have also failed at the box office but at least might've been counted as art.

I can't say I agree with the above post that hails the work of Farley Granger. Granger has been publicly vitriolic about the movie, but in my view he did nothing to help it. He's wooden and self-conscious, and, let's face it, he was never a good actor even when Hitchcock directed him. However, I am also open to the possibility that, had Robson had any conceptual idea about how to best tell this tale, Granger might've made for an interesting screen subject. The Yordan screenplay tweaks trivialized the message and shortchanged the potential for a visual style. Even then, if Robson had brought a creative approach to things, even the screenplay issues might've been overcome.

EOD the film remains a historical curiosity, but it's mostly an example of what happens when unsympathetic, apparently clueless, filmmakers are hired to tackle a subject of seriousness, which they can only reduce to cinematic hackwork. It could have been, it SHOULD have been, a much better movie.

Sometimes dismissed by the critics (read Matlin's review ) as "histrionic Granger" , "edge of doom" should be considered as it was intended for : an edifying movie, a Christian profession of faith.

On the contrary ,Granger gives a gripping performance of an overwrought man who got a raw deal :nowadays, a person who commits suicide passes for "crazy" and is not denied a funeral in consecrated ground, but at the time, the Catholic Church was adamant ;Martin has a grudge against the priests who took his mom's hand-outs in the masses ,and never gave her anything ;since he lost his faith ;thus a contradiction for he wants a beautiful funeral for his departed mother ,with plenty of flowers ,even though he's got to work off the price all his life.But it's more a vengeance on the Church than an act of redemption.

Mark Robson has a flair for scenes with a sense of mystery ,probably stemming from his first Val lewton productions ("the seventh victim" " the ghost ship" " bedlam" ) : it shows in the murder scene , and even more in the funeral parlor where Martin sees his victim in his coffin ; the reconstruction of the crime is a great moment too ; Granger's face gives away his guilt ,his stress ;all along the movie,he plays as though he's about to break down:a lesson he may have learned from the masters Ray ("they drive by night" ) and even more Hitchcock ("the rope" in which his self-conscious nervous attitude contrasts with John Dall's aplomb).Note the omnipresence of the crucifixes.

It's a long flashback :a story told by a priest (Dana Andrews) to one of his younger colleagues who thinks that the load is too heavy.

"there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent." (St Luke)