Sans espoir de retour

A popular actor/musician who like many genuine rock stars can't keep it inside his trousers, crosses the wrong person and ends up with his throat slit, an injury intended to punish and ruin his career rather than kill. After refusing to name his attacker, he gets up from his hospital bed, and heads for skid row where after an indeterminate time he is framed more or less by accident for the murder of a police officer.

Escaping from custody in a unique fashion he somehow stumbles upon his assailant, who just happens to be involved in a plot to take over the city if not the world, and by a serendipitously circuitous route, justice is served. There is quite a bit more to it than that, none of it any more believable, but it shouldn't take the viewer long to realise this film was never intended to be taken seriously.

Street of No Return is and is not a real return to form for maverick B-movie director Samuel Fuller, chiefly because he never really lost a form in the first place. But in essence, the story he's tackling here, based on a David Goodis novel, calls out to a pulpy melodrama/film-noir from the 50s ala Pickup on South Street. There aren't any sensationalized messages being laid out like in a Shock Corridor or Park Row, yet Fuller, even at the ripe old mid 70s, wasn't about to skimp out in his swan song for his die-hard fans.

There's plenty of "realistic" violence (in quotes because, as Fuller says in an interview on the DVD, it's not really real, but fictionalized there's a deeper reality to the dramatizing of it), particularly the opening riot sequence, one of the best scenes, and in the climax of the film, where everything is shrouded mostly by smoke as cops and bad guys duke it out. There's emotion- in the total Fuller sense- as he still to the end embraces melodrama as something that can work when not distilled for the audience, especially through intuitive manipulations of the camera in point of view and the wallops of timing with the editing. There's even a fairly decent, if a little estranged, performance from Keith Carradine, and an excellent bad-ass cop turn from character actor Bill Duke.

But then there's also the side to Fuller, as Eastwood is in the midst of right now, in his style and approach to the script where trying new things goes with going old and having (seemingly) nothing to lose as an artist. The only problem is Fuller skirts the edges on whether or not he's making a serious thriller or more of a satire of one set squarely in the mid 80s. Carradine's character, for example, is an 80s era pop singer named simply Michael (a possible in-joke towards Michael Jackson), who sings and plays songs that are kind of second rate power ballads that only work on a level of cheesy enjoyment; this goes also for his music videos, even though one might sense Fuller working some of his more jokey stabs there, and it's not as abhorrent if one just takes a total sense of disbelief.

Actually, that might count for a good deal of the movie, because at the core the story is so set in its one-dimensional ways: the mistreated and helpless woman taken away from Michael (who meet and fall in love in a manner only Fuller could pull off with a wink and a nod); the hard-bitten cop looking at trouble if he doesn't crack the case; the unrepentant criminals- white and black- who conspire to have whatever at their will, either by corporate schilling or by immediate gang warfare. This, plus the musical score by Karl-Heinz Schafer which is maybe the worst aspect to making it more dramatically powerful when needed, hamper what are the better qualities.

I wouldn't trade seeing any Sam Fuller motion picture, warts and all, because there's always something to experience and take-in as the director's ideals at showing something compelling from real-life situations (eg the crack years in the urban areas in the 80s, and the underlying issue of race) are never out of sync with making such two-dimensional characters alive and a style angry at conventional ways. It lacks the full drive of a classic, but there's still a pulse that throbs enough to make it worthwhile. Carradine fans, I might add, may be in for a small surprise seeing such a dialog-free performance as a man stripped of his life, or at least dignity, and then given it back piece by piece.

The movie is wacky at almost every stage, and yet it undeniably works - whether through sheer naivete and flagging relevance or through simple genius, Fuller creates a totally unique and mesmerizing world of vivid colour, strange emptiness and weird evocation. It's clearly meant to be set in the US yet there's not a single interior or exterior which looks like it - Carradine plays an extremely anachronistic Europop star figure, yet the music actually has an underlying longing that's quite effective; the primal device of the black and white race riots is a distillation of Fuller's eternal theme - driven by big business, taking place in isolation on a street of no return, drained of all context or passion: the very first shot of a hammer blow to the head is incredibly jolting. All the noir elements are here, and the memory of better days hangs heavily over the plot - at the end you're amazed by how well structured it is, but it's the blinkered purity that produces the most mesmerizing results. Really memorable and weird.

I have seen almost all of director Samuel Fuller's films and I know that to many he is a god. However, I have noticed that later in his career, some of his films were just too sloppy or had crazy premises that make them far from classics. While one of the other reviews is rather harsh for this film, I do agree that later in his career, Fuller seems to have lost his golden touch. I recognize none of his early genius in this bizarre and annoying film. This is certainly no "Steel Helmet" or "Pickup on South Street"! The film has a strange look to it--much of this was due to it being filmed in Lisbon. Why Lisbon?! And, for that matter, why have a lot of supporting actors that seem to really struggle with speaking English?! This doesn't look like a work of genius--just desperation to go to such efforts to get the film made. My assumption is that with advanced age and reputation for being cantankerous, this was the best opportunity he could get to direct. It's sad...and I wish he'd just retired after making "The Big Red One". Films like "White Dog" and "Street of No Return" just weren't quality products or up to his earlier standards.

The film tells the story of an idiot musical star. Keith Carradine plays this idiot. He's on top of the world but insists on canceling his concerts and throwing away his life on a woman he just met--and who insists she is "not worth it". And, frankly, other than the hot sex, it's inexplicable why he would so actively pursue this lady--she ISN'T worth it. Ultimately, the lady's very controlling boyfriend and Carradine's agent(?!?!) work together to "teach him a lesson"--severing his vocal cords and leaving him for dead.

Later, after a lengthy flashback scene, the film returns to the present day where Carradine is a homeless guy. He wakes up next to a dead cop and the police think Carradine did it. So, he's off to jail. The cops aren't subtle and spend their time screaming and hitting people. Not surprisingly, Carradine doesn't wish to stay and he rather easily escapes. There's more to it than that, but frankly at this point I was ready to call it a day.

The problem is that although the basic idea isn't horrible, the characters make very little sense, the camera angles and camera work look sloppy, the music is far from great and the film comes off as loud, garish and annoying. No one is subtle or interesting--just loud and obnoxious. And, I think that Fuller thought that to be modern and relevant, having everyone curse and scream would do the trick...it didn't. The loudness and overacting might have worked years earlier in such great Fuller films as "Shock Corridor"...but here, it's just loud and overacted. Oddly, however, despite most of the supporting actors screaming and overdoing it, the leading man is, at times, a bit of a zombie. Wow...this is bad...really, really bad.

OK, I've seen a few of Sam Fuller's films now, but I'm still not sure whether he's a veritable genius or just a complete crackpot. Street of No Return does little to clarify things. As others have pointed out, it's not a particularly good film, but it is classic Fuller, in that it attempts to deal with salient social issues with bombastic acting, lurid violence, and some seriously ham-fisted dialogue. But that's why people (myself included) can't get enough of Fuller's work: it's so preposterous yet sincere you can't help but love it. After forty years of directing, Fuller obstinately sticks to his thematic and stylistic guns, for better or worse. In particular the dialogue seems incredibly anachronistic, as though everyone in the film grew up watching Fuller's own Pickup on South Street or Underworld USA. Like Kinji Fukasaku's Triple Cross (92), Street of No Return is the work of an aging maverick director who, despite a complete lack of commercial and critical success, never wavered in his artistic convictions. And for those of us who may stumble upon their work years later, it makes their films all the more endearing. The fantoma DVD release comes with a 'making of' which is really just an excuse to film the bellicose yet lovable Fuller spouting off on (what else?) race, violence, and the good old days of street journalism, and is well worth the price of rental alone.