Il diabolico avventuriero

I first became aware of this movie when I bought the soundtrack composed by Max Steiner back in the 80's. With its Eastern European flavour, the score for "Death of a Scoundrel" was Steiner in top form, and as I later discovered, was one of the best things about the movie.

The film begins with Clementi Subourin (George Sanders) lying shot dead across a bed. His assistant, Bridget Kelly (Yvonne De Carlo), tells his story, which is revealed in a long flashback.

In Czechoslovakia just after WW2, Subourin returns from a concentration camp to visit his brother, played in the film by George Sanders' real-life brother, Tom Conway. After discovering that his brother has virtually forgotten him and even married the girlfriend he had asked him to protect, Subourin turns his brother over to the police for dealing on the black market.

He travels to America where he makes a fortune speculating on the stock market - mostly by questionable means. Along the way he encounters people who either become allies or more likely, enemies. Subourin is ruthless and vengeful, and has affairs with many women, often at the same time. He is a forerunner of the Wolf of Wall Street but seen through the heavy filter of 1950's censorship.

Ultimately, it all unravels and we finally learn who pumped the bullets into him.

The movie covers a lot of ground, and has a good script - for the most part. However it falls down visually. Almost totally studio bound, where a filmmaker like Val Lewton and his team could transform a cheap set into a work of art using the shadows from a shuttered window, the guys who made "Death of a Scoundrel" were masters of over-lighting.

The scenes set in Europe are the worst. It's almost as though someone found an unused storeroom at RKO and thought, "Great, this can be Czechoslovakia".

Apart from his trademark arrogance and disdain; George Sanders' character also shows nervousness, petulance and even a little contrition. It almost seems like too much acting from George. I prefer his Addison DeWitt from "All About Eve" where, although he only displays one mood, absolute superiority, it is undiluted Sanders. His back-story is also poorly thought out. After he has just been released from a concentration camp, he looks amazingly healthy - in the pink in fact. At no point does he seem to carry the baggage from the experience that Rod Steiger does in "The Pawnbroker".

The cast is full of beautiful women. Yvonne De Carlo and Zsa Zsa Gabor are foremost among them, and are numbered in the quartet of women looking down on George Sander's body in the striking poster for the film, which along with Sanders and Steiner, was another element in the sum of the parts that turned out to be greater than the whole.

Hollywood tries to be topical when it can get away with it. This little film of 1956 is typical of the movies that George Sanders was frequently cast in the lead of (THE PRIVATE AFFAIRS OF BEL-AMI is a better example of this). Suave and smooth, with that baritone purr that was so full of secret threat, Sanders road it to screen stardom in a way that only Greenstreet, Rathbone, Rains, Price, Webb, Lee, and Cushing could match. And unlike the others, Sanders ended up with an Oscar for his work (as Addison DeWitt in ALL ABOUT EVE).

What is frequently forgotten about Sanders Oscar-role is that the caddish theatre critic is not the worst person in the plot. While his interest in Eve Harrington is partly due to a physical attraction (in the famous scene in the Hartford hotel room he does try to explain how he reasoned this, only to be laughed at for his pains), Addison also is a realist: Eve is a great talent - he's spotted that - and fits the roles Lloyd Richards has been writing for Margo Channing better than Margo does, because she is closer in age to those roles than Margo. In fact, Margo herself realizes that. Moreover, although his snide comments hurt Margo and her friends, he is close to them. If you remember what causes Addison to go to Hartford in the first place is the visit (off screen) by Karen Richards (Celeste Holms) to discuss their mutual problem (keeping Lloyd and Eve apart). The villain of the movie remains Eve, not Addison, and when Addison rips her apart in the hotel room the audience is not hissing Addison but cheering him along. The only one of the major figures in the film with brains and guts, he is the only one capable in tearing down Eve. In fact, as the film ends Addison even realizes that his infatuation with her was misplaced - and he sets the stage for Eve to find herself with an "Eve" of her own.

At his best roles Sanders was in total control of the film for most of the action. DEATH OF A SCOUNDREL finds him in central control as a foreign born scuzzball who claws his way to wealth at everyone else's expense, but who ends up dead from revolver bullets. As such it sounds like some other films (one or two with Zachary Scott come to mind). But this one is actually topical. There was a murder in 1955 that spurred on this Hollywood flick. I refer to the "timely" demise of Serge Rubinstein.

Like Sanders' character (who is from Czechoslovakia), Rubinstein was from Eastern Europe - from Russia. He fled that country in the aftermath of the 1917 revolution, wearing clothing that contained jewelry and money that he used to settle in France and then England. He went to Cambridge (paid for by his brother), and studied (supposedly) with the great John Maynard Keynes. Keynes (if the story is true) was so amazed by Rubinstein's grasp of economics as to predict an amazing future for him. I somehow find that hard to believe. Rubinstein was not the sort to get stuck, a la Milton Friedman, Hayek, or Paul Samuelson with charts and graphs explaining how currency fluctuations might relate to declining revenues in imports ....Rather he was a greedy bastard. He bankrupted his father (who committed suicide). He never repaid his brother (who later tried suing him to recover his money). He would go about playing with national currencies (he hurt Japan's for a couple of years), and various corporations that he plundered. He also used phony papers to avoid the draft in the U.S. (he served some times in prison). His reaction to the hisses of the wives and families of war veterans was to call them suckers.

Rubinstein loved to flaunt it, and to rub it in. He eventually made tens of thousands of enemies by his lifestyle and business methods. Then, in 1955, he was found by his valet tied up on the floor of his bedroom and strangled (not shot like Sanders is found in the movie). The New York City Police Department looked as thoroughly as possible regarding all possible suspects, but none was ever found. The case is still unsolved. The problem was summed up by one police detective who said they had narrowed it down to ten thousand suspects. Too many people had motives for the murder. Moreover most of the public would probably have been willing to award the criminal a medal.

The only thing done in the film to change Rubinstein's character is that Sanders discovers he did love one of his female victims. Before his death he telephones her to ask her forgiveness. But that is an invention of the script writers. It is doubtful that Rubinstein would ever have begged forgiveness from anyone.

I seem, no matter what the film, to always be drawn to a George Sanders film. He usually plays the most offensive, morally bankrupt, devious, underhanded roles. If there is someone out to swindle a woman from her possessions through flattery - George Sanders is there. If a young ingénue is promised fame for the price of her physical love - George Sanders is there. If a brother is turned in for stealing rare objects d'art to the police - George Sanders is there. These are just a portion of the terrible things George Sanders does in Death of a Scoundrel, but, amazingly, Sanders remains almost likable throughout because of his innate affability and charm. No one turns a phrase better than Sanders, and it is his easy wit, dry delivery, wry sense of humor, predisposition to sarcasm, and excellent timing that make him stand out in what would otherwise be pretty routine stuff. Death of a Scoundrel opens with Sanders already dead. We then get to, through the character of lovely Yvonne De Carlo, trace the roots of how Sanders first became a scoundrel and how he eventually died. The story, though full of overstated melodrama, is an interesting one with the Sander's character actually given some depth of characterization. The supporting cast is top-notch with Zsa Zsa Gabor giving what I think is one of her all around best performances. She and Sanders appear to have strong chemistry between them(little wonder as they had previously been married/divorced). Nancy Gates does a very credible job as an aspiring actress. John Hoyt is always good and Coleen Gray gives a good turn as well. Tom Conway, the real life half-brother of Sanders, plays Sander's brother in the film. But supporting cast aside, this movie is all Sanders. I really liked Death of a Scoundrel. It is not a great film, but it was much better than I had thought it would be. It goes to show that quality acting, a coherent script, thoughtful direction from Charles Martin, and a sense of style, not just in how the film appears but in the way the film is made, all go a long way in making the mundane pretty good.

Except for a few "establishing" shots here and there and a heavy dose of rear projection magic in a taxi, this film is anchored to the studio. But James Wong Howe's camera work and Max Steiner's lush and diverse (some characters have their own themes) film score, the director refuses to allow the proceedings to take on a cramped and cold feel. George Sanders as "Clementi" is a piece of work. He germinates schemes with the speed of a jack hammer, and every enterprise he embarks on is cloaked in dishonesty and unethical business practices. Stay away from him like the German measles. He tosses away women like used paper tissues. He has no problem using Yvonne DeCarlo (the narrator of the film) to seduce his clients. She is his one true friend and she loves him. Clementi is nearsighted on such matters of the heart. No matter. Zsa Zsa Gabor is around the corner. She keeps him on a short leash and scores a few minor victories. But even she can't control the evil genius for long. I think the scene at the theater was screen writing genius. Clementi, attempting another play for a woman, bankrolls a young, gifted actress in a stage play she is perfect for. After the performance, she goes back to his room and they play out that very same scene in real life, blurring reality that much more. Marvelous. I love the final speech and walk down a long flight of stairs by DeCarlo. As a former dancer, she always had a great physical presence and grace. The music is soft but builds to a crescendo. She looks one way and then another. The camera pulls back as she turns and exits the house, a policeman's silhouette in the glass door. I'm a sucker for these types of dramatic endings. Think (and watch) Michael J. Fox at the end of Casualties of War, and you'll see what I mean.

A pretty interesting little movie. George Sanders, who plays the scoundrel of the title, is the pivotal piece of the jigsaw and the one who makes it work. Initially it appears Sanders is miscast: he's certainly not the playboy type, and also too old, but as the film progresses you realise that he's absolutely nailing the performance. His anti-hero is never less than engaging, much more so than many clean-cut heroic types.

The film begins with a death before the real story is told in detail. We learn how Sanders' character flees from post-war Europe to hit the big time in America, while his scandalous behaviour leads to death, destruction and destitution along the way. The supporting cast is fleshed out with attractive starlets, including Zsa Zsa Gabor and the ever-appreciated Yvonne De Carlo, and there's lots of drama and one or two well-filmed fights to keep things moving despite the lengthy running time. DEATH OF A SCOUNDREL is no classic but fans of the era will find much to enjoy here.