Il terrore dei gangsters

Cry Vengeance owes a debt to the previous year's Fritz Lang film The Big Heat. It too tells the tale of an honest cop whose family was killed in a mob-engineered explosion and who sets out as a crazed vigilante seeking redress. But while The Big Heat sizzles, Cry Vengeance stays tepid, perhaps owing to its sub-Arctic setting.

The star of earlier noirs The Dark Corner and The Street with No Name, Mark Stevens directs himself as the hate-twisted protagonist, just out of prison after being framed and losing his wife and daughter. (Stevens has aged visibly, and it's not just the scarred-face makeup his character sports.) Strong-arm tactics with plenty of karate chops elicit the information that the man he holds responsible has assumed a new identity in Ketchikam, Alaska. But not only is Steven's arrival expected, he's followed by a platinum-haired gunsel who's the real killer (Skip Homeier, who bears a resemblance to Lee Marvin, The Big Heat's sadistic torpedo).

Cry Vengeance matches its predecessor in brutality but comes up short everywhere else. Muddy photography wastes the scenic north, while the bland dialogue lacks the epigrammatic edge that's one of the joys of film noir (no "sisters under the mink" insinuation here as in Lang's film). The plot, with its double-crosses, needs a more baroque approach to sell itself.

On the whole, Cry Vengeance falls victim to the fatigue that, by 1954, was beginning to beset the entire noir cycle. Plots and characters amount, basically, to retreads. Joan Vohs, as Homeier's sozzled moll, couldn't have given this performance without Gloria Grahame's the year before in The Big Heat. With Stevens looking tired, too, it doesn't augur well for Cry Vengeance. But it holds distinction as the only film noir set in the Alaskan Territory, as Hell's Half Acre of the same year was the only one set in the Hawaiian (it wasn't until 1959 that statehood was conferred on both territories).

Cry Vengeance (1954)

Leading man Mark Stevens falls something short of a cult figure. He is director and first actor in four movies from 1954 (this one, his first) to 1963. He plays his roles as if he is in control, which he is, literally, from the director's chair. He's the hardened type, and here he is bitter bitter bitter, to the point that he is not quite a fully developed character and it's hard to get absorbed in his problem.

The rest of the movie is functional. It doesn't lack interest--for one thing, it's shot in Alaska, mostly (the exterior shots)--and the supporting cast is middling to good, filling roles we've seen before from pretty girl befriending the unlikely hero to chatty bartenders to a sweet kid who turns the man around through her innocence. And the filming (William Sickner, a routine cameraman with nearly two hundred B-movies to his credit) and editing, likewise, are workaday...the job gets done, but it lacks some kind of richness or aura or plain old drama.

Then to make it a little more disappointing, a couple of the main themes are taken a little too directly from earlier noirs, namely "The Big Heat" which came out the year before. The theme, established right away, is a cop who is out for vengeance against whoever killed his wife and child in a car bomb meant for him. Stevens plays this part with cold certitude. It's an interesting film in some ways, but a clunker in many others. Take it for what it was, and what it is.

By 1954 the Elements of Film-Noir were Diluted to the Point of Virtually Killing the Genre. At Least the Purity that Made it Remarkable and Different than the Standard Crime Stuff.

Beginning about 1950 the Genre was Intruded Upon with more "Friendly" Considerations as a Bid to Please the more Conservative Elements Taking Hold in Society and "Big-Brother" Authority.

In Mark Stevens Crime Thriller it can be Witnessed by the Location (Alaska) and the Heavy Plot Laden Little Girl.

These Things can Turn Noir into a more Pedestrian Film as the Defining Tropes Gave Way to other More Easily Digested Stories by Increasing Suburbanite Family and the Enormous amount of Kids in Everyone's Life.

The Film Contains some Fine Outdoor Cinematography and some Brutal Scenes, but Overall these are Counterpointed Quickly with a Softer Touch.

The Cast is Competent with Skip Homeier Stealing the Show as a Platinum Blonde Junkie that may put You in Mind of Lee Marvin's Psycho in Fritz Lang's "The Big Heat".

In Fact the Film is often Mentioned as a Low Budget Version of the Aforementioned Classic. Overall it's Worth a Watch.

But it's Sad to Watch Film-Noir Fade Away.

What do you do when you get framed for bribery, your face is disfigured and your wife and child are killed? You seek revenge, even if it takes you to Ketchikan, Alaska. Mark Stevens (THE DARK CORNER, THE STREET WITH NO NAME) both stars and makes his directorial debut with a cheapie BIG HEAT knockoff, but it's a tasty little morsel. Stevens gives the best performance I've seen from him, cold and intense, and leads a mighty fine cast of B-roster supporting players. The characters are so engaging that the deaths are tangibly felt by the viewer. Pretty much everyone in this movie is fun to watch, especially Skip Homeier as the suave, menacing gangster and Joan Vohs as his conflicted moll. Even the little girl is good. The film has a terrific rough-and-tumble attitude, with biting dialogue, dark morality, smoky jazz in nightclubs and cheap dives, and lots of fist fights. There's some good exploration of ethical grey area. It could use a little more directorial finesse, but for a first effort it's not too bad and sports a couple of well-shot sequences. Maybe not one of the greats, but it packs a good noir punch.

Fast and efficient slice of thick-ear, with a plot borrowed from previous year's The Big Heat (1953). The producers, however, had the good sense to locate the action in Ketchican, Alaska, definitely not an over-used locale. Director Stevens makes good use of the outdoor settings, lending exotic flavor to the action. To bad that the photography is definitely non-noir. But then the interiors were filmed in a TV studio.

The plot may be borrowed, but there's an interesting wrinkle. Namely, nominal, good guy Stevens is more fearsome than the ostensible mobster, bad guy Kennedy. That's because Stevens thinks Kennedy killed his family and framed him. Now, ravaged with revenge, Stevens wants to kill Kennedy's family, including his winsome little daughter. So, we're left wondering just who to root for. Then there's the psycho hit-man Homeier who's kind of a wild card in a mop of ultra- blonde hair. (Note, for example, the cold-hearted abruptness of the execution scene.) Add a number of familiar supporting players, like Mills and Doucette, and you've got a generally persuasive cast. And, oh yes, on the blondined distaff side mustn't forget barfly Vohs or the fetching Martha Hyer.

Considering this movie along with Stevens' tour-de-force Timetable (1956), it's too bad his niche with b&w B-films was giving way to TV. In my book, he shows himself a filmmaker of more than average aptitude. Anyway, the movie's both interesting to follow and scenic to eyeball, a pretty good combination for any film.