Acossado!

Buenos Aires enjoyed a vogue (so far as the movies were concerned) in the mid-1940s, providing the locale for Notorious, Gilda and Edward Dmytryk's Cornered. In all three, it serves as a sort of terminal moraine for Nazi refugees from the shambles of the Axis powers.

Dick Powell continues his transformation from lip-glossed song-and-dance man for Busby Berkeley into a five-o'clock-shadowed tough guy, a makeover he had begun the previous year as Philip Marlowe in Murder, My Sweet (also by Dmytryk). Here he's a Canadian Royal Air Force veteran who ends up in Argentina, via France and Switzerland, on a mission to avenge the murder of his war-bride wife. He enters a whirl of black-tie affairs in cavernous mansions (those Nazis knew how to party) and a nest of duplicity surrounding the mysterious, and presumably dead, war-criminal-in-chief, known as Jarnac -- the object of his deadly hunt. An at-first bewildering cast of sinister operatives gradually sorts itself out into villains (Walter Slezak the most memorable of them) and members of an anti-Fascist group; Powell, the while, skulks along the moonlit streets of the city in pursuit of Jarnac's "widow."

Dmytryk displays his pioneering flair for noir devices, keeping the atmospherics and tension high. He's let down a bit by the murkiness of the plotting, where the political theme emerges and disappears, leaving abstract stretches of suspense that might as easily have taken place in Boston or Bombay. And it's hard to buy into the convention that, in rooms blazing with gunfire, the red-blooded American will always prevail by means of a manly sock to the jaw. Somewhat dated by its wartime politics and its roots in the international-intrigue genre, Cornered remains a solid piece of work by both Dmytryk and Powell.

Cornered (1945)

"You can't be serious," the cheerful man said to Dick Powell, playing an ex-soldier in post-war Argentina. "I'm always serious," Powell replies. And he is. This defines the actor, and the character, and the doggedness of this character's pursuit of some mystery in the movie. It's impressive and wearing--a little humor might make him more human, yes, and it would also make the move more watchable. The cheerful man is a mystery, too, played with usual irony and crossed agendas by Walter Slezak (seen in a similar role in "Born to Kill").

Director Edward Dmytryk is as usual just short of superb. I don't think he has a bad film, but he often worked with compromised material (the story here is an example) or he worked too quickly (my guess) to pull together something extraordinary. But putting it this way is meant to say this movie has lots of aspects that are great.

One strength is the section of shots of what looks like genuine war torn France made months after the end of fighting. Another highlight is the film noir style throughout--the lighting, the clipped dialog, the lone man against the world, the brooding depression. Powell is his own kind of attraction. As offputting as his anger can get after awhile, it's exactly what makes him good, bullheaded and bulldozing his way through a complex network of enemies (who would really just kill him in short order if this was a realistic film, which no noir is).

The plot is unusually hard to follow (though other noirs come close, like "The Big Heat"). And the antagonists are largely only talked about--Powell is searching for someone, and that person and his collaborators are either unseen or so duplicitous you don't know where he stands, and so the ominousness gets vague, but also beautifully diffuse and omnipresent. It is this oppressiveness that is part of the success here, even as you get lost with the details of the plot. There are some nice night shots (one briefly in the park is ominous) and many facial close ups. There is a terrific conversation on a subway platform with the noise of the cars drowning out the talk now and then, great audio effect. And so the filming is worth the ride alone at times. The music is intense and dramatic, the bit actors really powerful even if they sometimes do foolish things (the valet getting shot, or half of the things Powell does).

In the film noir "cycle" this is early--the core films come after WWII, so this, along with "Double Indemnity," is cutting edge in that sense. It's also definitive in its mood. It's not a crime film, not a gangster story (which is where the hard film style has its American roots). It's a plot about how a person tries to rearrange his life after having it messed up, internally and externally, by the war. Powell is a perfect early noir leading male (the other famous one in the 1940s is Bogart). So this is a critically important film, maybe more important than truly enjoyable, but if you like noir it'll be terrific enough to hold you. If you aren't predisposed to like this kind of story, you'll find it meandering and dull and confusing. Me? I'm predisposed to like it, and I did, and I'll even watch it again, probably figuring it out a little more and enjoying it better.

If "The Maltese Falcon" represents the birth of what came to be known as Film Noir, and the war years were its childhood, then certainly this is its first bittersweet kiss. The writer, John Paxton, and the director Edward Dmytryk, seem charged up, electrified by the aftershocks of the just ended war. Characters are sharply drawn and unusually articulate, possessing a clarity of thought and emotional precision that's rare. "I'd rather have it quick than carefully" Dick Powell's Canadian flyer turned vengeful sleuth says at one point.

The Swiss watch plot is intricate and exhausting. When it's finally over you have the elated feeling that you've just completed a marathon and come in first. No one can be trusted. Everyone has a card up their sleeve and a gun in the top drawer. Just in case. Shadows, prying eyes, lonely dimly lit streets, whispered mistruths partially overheard but only half understood; that's what this film is about. Some have done it as well but none have done it better. The sense of claustrophobia, of walls closing in is overwhelming, particularly during one gripping scene set in an underground railway. Dmytryk whips you from one locale to the next, globe-hopping from London to Paris to Argentina, until you're dizzy. It's almost as if a world ravaged by war has become Powell's own personal trash heap, at the bottom of which may or may not be what he is looking for.

Powell is terse, tight-lipped and intractable, a quintessential Noir "hero", as the man desperately searching for the enigmatic Nazi collaborator responsible for his French wife's death. He shrugs off an onslaught of manipulative rhetoric and deception, trusting no one, cold-blooded revenge his only goal. But the real acting honors have to go to Walter Slezak, who is every bit as venal, calculating and cosmopolitan (not to mention plump) as Sidney Greenstreet was in "Falcon". A terrific performance. I also liked the way Luther Adler, on screen for less than five minutes but in a pivotal role, gets so much mileage out of a single raised eyebrow.

Post war disillusionment at its most raw and immediate. Virtually flawless.

I really enjoyed this film, but i thought that it could've been edited tighter. The run time was a little too long, and a tighter edit would've helped the film greatly. It also would've been nice to have a bigger female star for the main female character. Hedy Lamarr would've been my first choice. But overall, i was very impressed with the film and thought that Dick Powell's performance was strong. He showed a greater range of emotions than i've seen in other Powell films.

I really enjoyed this war-set film noir with avenging angel Dick Powell continent-hopping to track down the shadowy Nazi commander who ordered the killing of his young wife.

The plot is a bit labyrinthine and probably peopled with too many characters but director Dymytrk keeps up the tension throughout and genuflects regularly in the direction of film noir with shadowy shots a-plenty, a mysterious woman who may or not be on Powell's side as well as Powell's turn himself as a sort of amateur private eye, getting deeper and deeper out of his depth as he closes in, he thinks, on his prey.

Powell doesn't do hangdog like Bogart or style like Grant, but he's deadpan and feisty by turns and does a reasonable job carrying the film from chapter to chapter. I also liked Walter Slezak as a sort of younger version of Sydney Greenstreet, trying to play both ends against each other but coming a cropper by the end as two quite grisly murders are enacted for us.

I liked the early location shots in war torn Europe and was otherwise satisfied too, with director Dymytrk doing a good job keeping the plates all spinning and who intelligently treats this terse thriller with a bit more attention to detail than other more slapdash filmmakers.

I'll watch almost every noir film I can as it's probably my favourite movie type and consider this effort, if occasionally a touch on the dry side, nevertheless a fine example of this particular genre.