Il terzo uomo

Even today in Vienna, one can take the "Third Man Tour" (Der Dritte Man) except, of course, that Orson Welles wouldn't go into the Viennese sewers and those scenes were done in England. There were actual sewer scenes with a double. Never mind, it is still a magnificent black and white film 99% filmed in Vienna. Directed by Carol Reed, it stars Joseph Cotten, Orson Welles, and Alida Valli.

Western novelist Holly Martins (Cotten) comes to Vienna at the behest of his old friend Harry Lime, but when he arrives, he learns that Lime is dead after being hit by a car. He investigates and finds the circumstances very strange indeed, especially when learning there was a third man that helped carry Harry's body to the sidewalk, a man who has since disappeared.

He then meets Harry's girlfriend (Alida Valli). And he also meets a police officer in the British section of Vienna, Inspector Calloway (Trevor Howard), who tells him that Harry was a murderer and a racketeer, and it's better that he's dead. Holly is shocked and demands proof.

One of the most atmospheric films ever made, with its zither music, cinematography, and Vienna at nighttime. Then there's some brilliant dialogue, particularly the "cuckoo clock" speech made by Orson Welles.

The cinematography is particularly striking: odd angles, back lighting, and shadows on empty streets. And who can forget the man hidden in the doorway, when the light from an apartment goes on and shows his face - certainly one of the great appearances of a star in a film.

One feels Lime's presence throughout the film, though he only has five minutes of screen time.

Though none of these actors were the first choice to play their roles, they are all excellent.

There was a Third Man TV series in 1959 that ran for six years and starred Michael Rennie as Lime. In the series, Lime is a hero.

He's no hero in the movie, but it is a powerful story and film, never forgotten once seen.

Although I am as old as this movie, produced in 1949, I have not aged nearly as well. This film, directed brilliantly by Carol Reed ("Odd Man Out", "The Fallen Idol") and written by Graham Greene, who created a long list of memorable cinematic scripts, ingeniously captures the prevailing atmosphere of disruption and chaos that Vienna, a once highly civilized city, experienced during the years that followed World War II. The upheaval is physical, social, economic, political, moral, spiritual. You name it. Vanquished Vienna, conquered by the Allies, was crippled by turmoil in every imaginable way, and we viewers are given the opportunity to experience it up close, right here.

I spent a number of months in Europe after I graduated from college in 1971. Although the war had been over for more than 25 years by then, I was struck by a very pronounced attitude of cynicism on the part of many Europeans regarding uniquely American ideals and principles, which were widely considered to be naive. To me, this film accurately captures this cultural and moral conflict, which lasted for decades and may even survive to this day. "You and your American principles," they would often scoff at me with mocking derision. In many ways, the character of Holly Martins (Joseph Cotten), an American who crashes into post-World War II Europe, is a victim of a serious cultural divide. Unlike the Europeans, Martins always has the option of fleeing from the chaos and returning to the United States. For that alone, he may be resented by the local Viennese.

What does Anna (Alida Valli) know about the illegal activities of her lover, Harry Lime (Orson Welles), which includes the sale of diluted penicillin to Vienna's hospitals? For children with meningitis, watered down penicillin was not only useless, but it created an immunity from full strength penicillin so that these afflicted children could never receive effective treatment. Corrupted penicillin is a glaring symbol of a totally corrupted Vienna. Harry surely understands the consequences of his business, but what about Anna? Even after the truth about Harry's conduct is clearly revealed to her, she still sticks by him to the bitter end. Love conquers all? Stand by your man, regardless of the misery that he is causing to his innocent victims? While I don't blame her for rejecting the romantic overtures of Martins, who is somewhat of a schnook, what's with her anyway? She reminds me of the Europeans who never once caught a whiff of the burning flesh from the overworked crematoria of the concentration camps that blackened the air all around them. She is deeply in love with Harry, so just shut up about children with meningitis. OK, Anna, whatever you say, sweetheart. Perhaps those silly 18th century costume comedies in which you appear will provide the escape from reality that you so desperately seek. At least you manage to crack a weak, forced smile on stage, which is the only smile that we will ever see from you.

From beginning to end, the unusual camera angles, the dark, somber, haunting sidewalks of Vienna, and the conquered city's eerie, drenched cobblestone streets contribute to the overall foreboding atmosphere of the film, which was remarkably photographed by Australian Robert Krasker ("Odd Man Out", "Brief Encounter"). From every direction and without advance notice, unforgettable images and characters appear before us, emphasizing an overall mood of mayhem and unpredictability. We witness, for example, Anna's landlady, draped in a bedspread for warmth in a state of deep distress by the sudden invasion of her house by "officials" representing not one foreign nation but four of them. Then we observe a ludicrous, bureaucratic "cultural re-education conference" offered to the Viennese by the allied victors, presumably to rehabilitate them after seven years of Nazi domination. And from where on earth did the balloon seller come as he pathetically peddles his merry merchandise on the dark, abandoned streets of Vienna, which are not only completely void of children at the time but of all people?

And what of the inquisitive, confused character of Holly Martins, played with the usual, smooth agility of Joseph Cotten? As the writer of mass marketed western novels that even a young British sergeant happens to read, why is he broke, and what kind of job would Lime have offered him in an unfamiliar, German-speaking Vienna that is gripped by post-war disorder, unemployment, and foreign occupation? Construction work, perhaps?

While some reviewers disliked the zither music of Anton Karas, I think that the unique, high pitched sound contributes to the general atmosphere of nervous tension and uneasiness that prevails. Would you prefer Strauss waltzes instead? They wouldn't be nearly as effective in conveying the overwhelming atmosphere of chaos, even insanity, that plagues Vienna on so many levels at the time.

Finally, we are brought to the hidden network of grand Vienna's underground sewers. What could be a more fitting symbol of the underlying foulness that lurks beneath the thin, shallow surface of what we call "civilization"? This subterranean labyrinth provides the perfect setting for the ending of an extraordinary film that very effectively portrays a world that has succumbed to a state of disorder, misery, and even madness. Ultimately, it is all destined for the sewer. Bal-loon?

Where to begin. For starters Graham Greene. You know he understood the devastation Europe had gone through. You just can't make a film like this without it. That's what The Third Man is about - the devastation of Europe and how that affected people, both morally and physically.

Holly Martins, the main character, is who's eyes we see the post-war world through as he uncovers the mystery of the death of his friend Harry.

Back to Graham Greene - He wrote the novella. He writes about human misery as well as anyone. And there was no shortage of misery and lack of morals in post-war Vienna. He's also a master of conflict, both external and internal, which is where I'm going here. His characters struggle with their own souls to the point of anguish. Loss is another thing he nails.

There are a few more reasons this is the best movie ever made. The next is the editing. The chase scene at the end gets all the love but-this is going to be hard to articulate but the editing is so innovative I have to try-unlike most editors who edit based on sound and dialogue, this movie is kind of reverse. It's almost like the rhythm of the scene is dictating when to cut. It's a "feel" thing established either within a scene or the entire movie or both. It really has to be experienced, not just written about.

The next reason is the grandiosity of the visuals. It's unbelievable how grand everything is. This totally falls in line with Orson Welles noir style and the German expressionism that influenced this film. Carol Reed's choice of lenses throughout the film are perfect. Space is played with perfectly. This falls in line with my next reason, which is the noir style that is done so well. The mood is established and kept throughout, employing the noir and the expressionist style.

And lastly, this movie didn't just defy convention, it obliterated it - the visuals, the sounds, the story, the locations, the style, the score (which consisted of one musical instrument), and the people; the way Carol Reed presented their despair. I'm preaching to the choir. I know you know.

The Third Man is a movie that looks and feels not like a movie of the 40s, but like a neo-noir of the late 60s/early 70s. This wonderful example of classic noir is one of the all time greatest films. It combines amazing visuals, sounds, dialogue, and acting to tell a thrilling story and comment about the atmosphere after WWII.

Of all the movies durring the studio era (pre-1960ish), there are three movies with cinematography that always stick out in my mind: Gregg Toland's work in Citizen Kane, Russel Mety's work in Touch of Evil, and Robert Krasker's work in The Third Man (all starring Orson Welles funny enough). I just recently saw a restored 35mm version of The Third Man. The crisp black and white visuals of a bombed out Vienna are so breath-taking. Shadows are everywhere. The unique way Krasker tilts the camera in some shots adding to the disorientation of the plot. And who can forget the first close-up of Welles with the light from an apartment room above splashing onto his face; one of the great entrances in movie history (Lime gives his old friend a smile that only Welles could give).

The cinematography is backed by strong performances by Welles, Cotten, and italian actress Vali. The writing of Greene is wonderful; you can see the plot twisting around Cotten tightly. But what makes The Third Man so great is its historical commentary (well not really historical since it was commenting on its own time, but to us it is historical). On one level The Third Man is a story of betrayal and corruption in a post-war, occupied Vienna. On the other hand, its giving the audience a glimpse of the mood of Europe after the great war. The uncertainty that the Cold War was bringing is evident through out the film; Cotten is constantly trying to figure out who to trust. Vienna is on the frontier of the new communist bloc (we even see the communists infiltrating Vienna trying to bring Vali back to her native Czechoslavakia). The zither music score combined with the stark images of bombed out Vienna are reminiscent of the frontier towns of American Westerns. So The Third Man is not only a wonderful film noir, but a unique look at the brief time between WWII and the height of the Cold War.

No need to recap the oft-repeated plot. So why bother commenting after 500+ reviews. I guess it's because I'm a movie lover and want to enter my little note of appreciation. What sticks in my mind from the movie's first release are the visuals. They're among the most memorable if not the most memorable in film annals. In sum, they're a nightmare world of emptiness-the streets, the walkways, the dead hulking edifices. It's a communal world emptied of community, leaving only ruins and shells. The metaphor for a post-war Europe is unmistakable, while only the morally destitute like Harry Lime have thrived. I can't imagine that filming in color was actually entertained (IMDB). Had that happened, the film would have passed into semi-obscurity unlike its now celebrated status. Note too, that no one ends up happy, in contrast to narrative norms of the day. I think what brought many folks to showings at the time was the unfamiliar zither music. As I recall, a commercial cut was heard regularly on the radio. Still, I expect a lot of folks left the theater put-off by the bleakly unhappy world they had just seen. Anyway, the movie remains a brilliant slice of cinematic imagination and should not be missed.