Il mostro è dietro l'angolo

Having been stung by a few efforts of my own, it is rare outside of educational or PBS to see a film faithful to its literary source like Face of Fire, based on Stephen Crane's story, The Monster. Albert Band's direction sets the atmosphere of small town 1890's America down to the last detail. James Whitmore plays Monk, a hired hand who burns his face rescuing the doctor's son from a horrendous fire. No cures of the time can restore his face so his sweetheart and the townspeople who once admired him soon turn into a lynch mob when women and children frightened by seeing him step in front of a wagon and get run over. Monk was a Negro in Crane's story, though, the only detail which might have elevated the film to a racial allegory. The boy's transformation from fear and ignorance back to his kindness and friendship for Monk are a heart string-tugging depiction indeed with photography comparable to Orson Welles' Magnificent Ambersons or Igmar Bergman movies. Filmed in Sweden with excellent music from Erik Nordstrom.

I will echo most other sentiments here. This is one of those fallen-through-the-cracks classics that deserves to be rediscovered. Perhaps it has lapsed into obscurity because it was released by Allied Artists, a company long out of business, and the rights to the film are now owned by Warner Brothers. I am hopeful, since they have recently released other AA titles such as BILLY BUDD and will soon release some low budget AA sci-fi like THE GIANT BEHEMOTH, that perhaps there is a glimmer of hope this forgotten gem will once more see the light of day. It really remains one of the most haunting genre films ever made, solid as a horror film, but really transcendent of genre, much as James Whale's original FRANKENSTEIN. The film is quite moving without resorting to the sentimental. Albert Band's direction is straightforward, yet very poignant and insightful. Although Band shows Whitmore's character, though brain-damaged, is clearly harmless, through the atmospheric B&W photography, much of it at night, we are drawn into the nightmarish hell of Whitmore's existence and the small town mob mentality that makes it even worse. The level of acting is first rate, from James Whitmore as the tragically disfigured handyman to Cameron Mitchell as the doctor, his former employer, one of the only people who sticks by him after his fiery accident. The supporting cast is likewise superb, including Bettye Ackerman, Royal Dano, Richard Erdman, Lois Maxwell. The whole film has a very strange ambiance, perhaps working even better since it was shot in Sweden in late 19th century period locations standing in for small town America. The barely noticeable off-kilter feel of the architecture, the perpetual dreamy twilight of the night scenes, the exquisite music score by Erik Nordgren add immeasurably to the surreally nightmarish storybook feel. The ending is also incredibly moving without being push-button manipulative. A really superior little film. Write to Warner Brothers Home Video and tell them to release it on DVD! Originally posted the preceding remarks several years ago. I was hoping Warner Archive would have released this by now on their manufacture-by-demand service; but still NOTHING. And yet 50% of the more obscure B movies they release are forgettable programmers or, even worse, dreck. They're still dragging their feet on other releases, too, that you would have thought they would have put out by now (such as full seasons of the cult TV favorites "77 Sunset Strip" and "Hawaiian Eye"). Write them for a DVD release on FACE OF FIRE!

I'd recommend this film highly for many reasons, most notably its beautiful black & white photography and the authentic small-town feel it evokes, thanks to very sensitive direction and performances. By the way, in the original Stephen Crane story this film is based on, Monk Johnson is a negro.

Over the past three decades, numerous quirky little movies that were personal favorites of mine have moved out of the realm of near-unknowns and entered into the public domain of enlarged popularity with a growing number of cinema students and film buffs. Although I'm a bit embarrassed to admit it, I feel a slight pang of grief whenever the "secret" gets out about one of these movies, because they had previously "belonged" to only a select few of us. Some hard-core movie lovers do suffer at times from a little elitism or possessive snobbery...

Some of these movies that are now more widely appreciated were always great films with a strong cult following--Carl Dreyer's 1928 silent "La Passion de Jeanne d'Arc," for instance, or Andrei Tarkovsky's "Stalker." Many others were B-movies made with minuscule budgets and ridiculously short shooting schedules, such as Edgar G. Ulmer's 4-day noir classic "Detour," or the creepy horror of "Carnival of Souls," shot near Lawrence, Kansas.

"Face of Fire" falls into the latter category and remains firmly embedded in my shrinking list of almost-unknown faves. I saw it only once on TV almost 40 years ago, but somehow it has fallen through the cracks, rarely if ever broadcast and still not available on VHS or DVD.

This very brief (79 min.) slice of rural Americana, based on a Stephen Crane short story-- with its disturbing trajectory and sad revelations about human nature, yet still uplifting in its final outlook--was shot in Sweden with an ensemble cast of stalwart and steadily-working American character actors, many of whom were instantly recognizable from 1950s television and movies.

My memory of the movie is sketchy at best (I was 15 when I saw it), and I wouldn't then have put it in the pantheon of great films, but it nonetheless affected me deeply with its insights into unconscious, small-minded human cruelty and the compensations that may be granted to a still-gentle soul. The final scene looking down a country road was evocative of a mythic America that has largely vanished, and that particular shot has stayed with me for four decades.

"Face of Fire" is very much worth seeing, should you have the chance.

Coming from small Allied Artists studio Face Of Fire might have easily been overlooked in 1959 the year of Ben-Hur. Yet this film opened to a lot of critical acclaim for James Whitmore in his portrayal of the badly burned man who is shunned by the small town and all the people who took to his genial personality.

Making it all the worse is that Whitmore was burned performing a heroic act rescuing young Miko Oscard from a fire in his doctor/father's laboratory. The man's face was burned and badly disfigured. Although we never quite see Whitmore what indications we do have tell how serious his injuries were.

Cameron Mitchell and Bettye Ackerman play Oscard's parents. They don't shun Whitmore, in fact Mitchell feels a responsibility to help him all he can.

And Whitmore becomes a fugitive from all who liked him before by simply leaving the place he'd been hidden away and going out among people. He never does anything, but they're all frightened of "The Monster".

Better known of course for The Red Badge Of Courage, Stephen Crane wrote this searing indictment of the American small town of what was called "The Gay Nineties". Nothing remotely gay about this small town in any sense of the word.

This little known film at the time is a real sleeper and several familiar character players are in the cast. But above all watch what Whitmore does with his performance.

And this review is dedicated to a kid I knew decades ago named Tom Lubart who went to school with me scarred as he was when a pot boiling spaghetti sauce fell on him as a toddler. I hope you're happy Tom wherever you are.