Lo sconosciuto del terzo piano

Peter Lorre is the "Stranger on the Third Floor" in this B movie from 1940 that stars John McGuire, Maria Tallichet (Mrs. William Wyler) and Elisha Cook, Jr. McGuire plays Mike Ward, a reporter who is the key witness in a murder trial that ends with the defendant (Cook) being found guilty. The man's protestations of innocence make an impression on Ward's fiancée, Jane, and it causes a rift between them. Back in his rooming house, Mike realizes that his nemesis next door isn't snoring as usual. Looking out of his room, he sees a man (Lorre) hanging around on his floor. Unnerved from the trial and from Jane's attitude, he begins to think his neighbor is dead and fantasizes that he could, though innocent, be put in the same position as the man he testified against and accused of murder. Then the nightmare turns into reality, and it's up to Jane to try and find the stranger - who killed in the same manner as was used in the murder case just tried.

This is a pretty interesting story with decent performances by McGuire and Tallichet, who retired after the birth of her second child with Wyler. Facially, she is a cross between Ella Raines and Jane Russell, though she gets no glamor treatment in this. Sitting down to watch the film, I was visualizing something like "M" or "The Lodger" - in reality, Lorre doesn't have much to do at all. He does, however, act strangely very well.

Some wonderful photography and interestingly filmed sequences, and a really sweet ending. Catch it the next time it's on TCM.

Reporter Michael Ward (John McGuire) gives testimony at trial that helps convict an innocent man of murder. Now Ward finds himself in a similar situation, accused of a murder he didn't commit. His girlfriend Jane (Margaret Tallichet) sets out to find a creepy stranger (Peter Lorre) seen lurking about on the night of the murder.

Despite being top-billed, Peter Lorre is not in this much. But when he is in it, he's really creepy and weird in that Lorre way we all love. Also, I loved Elijah Cook as the poor sap wrongly convicted at the start of the movie. Often cited as the first film noir, this is a very cool murder mystery that effectively uses flashbacks and dream sequences. It has a lot of style for a B movie that barely runs an hour. Just goes to show you don't need 2 1/2 hours to make a good movie, something today's filmmakers should learn.

This is a classic B (not a quality-judgment, but a well-defined production level that existed before the legal consent-decree that ended studio ownership of movie theaters in the early 1950's. B-movies were lower-budget features, between 55 and 70 minutes, using second tier talent - rising actors or ex-stars on their way down - designed to play the bottom half of a double-feature with an A-picture. The studios needed to produce a certain number of these pictures to keep their theaters supplied, and the quality was only of second importance.) Very often, the low budget gave the filmmakers a certain freedom, because the studio wouldn't keep very tight control on a production of such relative unimportance. B- movies sometimes served as the canvases for highly innovative directors and photographers. (Note that the talent behind the camera includes both the (uncredited) work on the script by no less than Nathaniel West, author of DAY OF THE LOCUST, and cinematography by Nicholas Musuraca, who went on to shoot such atmospheric classics as CAT PEOPLE, CURSE OF THE CAT PEOPLE, OUT OF THE PAST, and the vastly under-appreciated psychological thriller THE LOCKET.)

The late William K. Everson, a fanatical private film collector and one of the greatest film historians, used to show this picture in his B-movie class at NYU as an example of "Films made on one set." The one set in this case is the street scene, although the staircase of the apartment building is also prominently featured. The street was, of course, a standing set that appeared in many films. But if you watch the film carefully, you'll realize that many of the other settings are hardly more than lighting effects on a bare sound-stage. The so- called "surrealism" of the film is a triumph of turning low-budget necessity into an effective style.

As to the claim that it's the first film noir, that's pretty questionable. Film noir really was born in France in the late 30's (there's a reason why the term is French). "Le Jour Se Leve" is probably the best-known example. It was characterized by the dark settings as well as the dark pessimism of its mood, using shadows to separate people, and to fragment the image of the individual. This is certainly an early American film noir, once again because of the spareness of budget forced the use of shadows to hide the lack sets.

This is a very enjoyable, effective thriller, taking us from a rather mundane, plausible reality into a wild nightmare. Lorre's brief appearances become the engine of the fears, that frightening presence you expect to find in every shadow.

The Film Noir Encyclopeia lists Stranger as the first true film noir. It's not hard to see why. The lengthy interior dialog, the grotesque dream sequence, and the expressionist lighting, all bespeak the arrival of a noir universe. Over the next ten or so years, this European style would encompass a number of film genres, seeping even into that most American of all, the Western ("Blood on the Moon", "Roughshod", et al.). I can only imagine how 1940's audiences greeted this abrupt departure on first showing.

Except for Lorre, it's a no-name cast, although Tallichet makes for a charming leading lady with a captivating smile. The absence of a familiar face (John McGuire) in the male lead actually helps. Instead of seeing a celebrity in a starring role, we see an unknown that might even be us. And so, both he and we are drawn deeper into a nightmarish web of guilt. Notice how the lighting becomes steadily darker as McGuire's anguish deepens, with shadows that are almost all appropriately angular and threatening. Also, note director Ingster's very real feel for the ethnic vibrancy of a New York street even though it's recreated on an RKO sound stage. This sense of a community life outside the third floor makes for an interesting contrast with McGuire's growing inward turn.

Too bad the script fails to match the visuals in imagination and stylishness. It's really pretty conventional, except for the nicely ironical twist of having the jury-trial deficiencies turned back upon McGuire in the dream sequence. Good thing they had Lorre outfitted with buck teeth and doing an exquisitely loony menace, because the climax itself is very unimaginatively staged. It could have come from a thousand other more ordinary films. Anyway, for fans of noir and movie historians, this obscure little production remains essential and entertaining viewing.

I was curious to see 'Stranger on the Third Floor' when it was recently shown on TV after I read it described as "the first Film Noir". Whether it actually is that or not I'll leave up to more knowledgeable film fans to argue over, but whatever you call this movie it is a very interesting and strange thriller that deserves a lot more attention. Part courtroom drama, part murder mystery, with a memorable dream sequence, you can't but help wonder if David Lynch is extremely familiar with this film (something I also thought while watching 'Kiss Me Deadly', 'Carnival Of Souls' and 'Branded To Kill'). John McGuire plays a reporter who is the key witness in a murder trial. After finding a neighbor dead and noticing a mysterious figure lurking nearby (Peter Lorre) he comes to believe that the man convicted (Elisha Cook, Jr) is innocent, and sets out to clear his name. I really love thrillers that are stylized or nightmarish and become borderline surrealism, and this is one of those kind of movies. It isn't without a few flaws, but I still found it to be fascinating and really enjoyed Cook and Lorre's performances, though sadly I don't think they actually have any scenes together.