Ato de Violência

What a great "character" shot when crippled Joe (Ryan) tries to cross the parade line, is turned back, only to limp obsessively across a moment later. Makes no difference to him that it's a patriotic parade. He's in his own world of revenge and by golly nothing's going to stop his mission. This one clever scene tells us more about Joe than a hundred lines of expository dialog.

It's aces all around for this front-rank noir. But I especially like the sneaky screenplay. Frank (Heflin) doesn't interrupt patriotic parades; instead, as ex-air force captain, he speaks at them. Plus, he's a friendly guy with a great young wife (Leigh) and toddler kid, a nice suburban home, and a growing business. Yes indeed, Frank is clearly Mr. America returned home successfully from the war. So why does the obsessed Joe want to kill Mr. America. That limp seems to point to a moral defect as well as a physical one, while he's got all the personality of a coiled rattler.

As a result, we have certain expectations about who these two guys are and how they will act as the suspense builds. But surprisingly, as events unfold, the screenplay peels back appearances with enough nuance that we may not be aware of the reversal until the end. And in the process, the movie produces one of the more subtly iconoclastic dramas of the noir period.

The casting here is flawless. It's Ryan at his darkest and most relentless, and Heflin at his plainest and low-key best. But I especially like the three women—Leigh, Thaxter, and Astor. Their parts are easily overlooked amidst the male-driven suspense, but each performs expertly in demanding roles. And unusual for noir, each tries to perform a healing role for her wounded man, though Pat's (Astor) methods are borrowed from the dark side. At the same time, throw in two icons from noir—the slippery Taylor Holmes (the shady lawyer) and the slimy Barry Kroeger (the hit-man), and you've got an all-star cast of characters.

My only reservation is with the last ten minutes. The depot and runaway car sequence was obviously staged to entertain the eye and not necessarily to be believed. I'm all for artistic license and the sequence is beautifully photographed-- it just strikes me as stagier and more artificial than it should be. Nonetheless, this is one of the more surprising and unusual noirs from the classic postwar period, and certainly merits a look-see.

This grim look a couple of demobbed soldiers continuing their private war at home rarely get mentioned in lists of essential noirs; maybe, upon release in 1949, it was just a little too close for comfort -- hinting a truths the victorious American public were unwilling to acknowledge. If so, the film has yet to be rediscovered --or reappraised. Van Heflin is living out the modest American dream in sunny California when into his life strides an old combat buddy, Robert Ryan (at his most menacing, which is nothing to sneeze at). To his wife's (Janet Leigh's) consternation, Heflin takes it on the lam, and slowly we learned what happened, or may have happened, over in a POW camp in the European Theater of War. As Heflin's flight takes him into seedier and more sinister surroundings, he links up with Mary Astor, living on the vague border of prostitution. (After helping to launch the cycle with her spectacular turn as Brigid O'Shaugnessey in The Maltese Falcon, Astor appeared in disappointingly few film noir; her expert performance here makes one wonder why, why, why?) Though the script opts for a strange and bitter "redemptive" ending, the acrid taste of Act of Violence lingers long.

"Act of Violence" from 1948, directed by Fred Zinnemann, is a strong noir starring Van Heflin, Robert Ryan, Janet Leigh, and Mary Astor.

Ryan is Joe Parkson, a man disabled in World War II who wants revenge against his old commanding officer, Frank Enley (Heflin). Parkson blames Enley for his disability and comes to town to kill him. Frank has been running from Joe for a while, as his wife (Leigh) mentions that they have moved to several different places. At this point Frank is an absolute pillar of the community in every way. But he's carrying a dark secret, and Joe knows it.

Excellent acting is the strength here, with Heflin giving a fantastic performance of man who slowly disintegrates, and Ryan in a familiar role as a killer. Except, of course, there's more to the story than that. Mary Astor has a small but showy part. Janet Leigh is very young here, playing Frank's adoring wife. Taylor Holmes, in the small role of a sleazeball, does a fantastic job.

Someone on this board made an excellent point. There were complaints that there should have been flashbacks showing what actually happened in the past. The point was made that a) It was a B movie and as such, flashbacks would have added too much time; and b) Because we were a nation of radio listeners back then, audiences had no trouble imagining what happened when they heard the story. I found this fascinating because it's so true and had not occurred to me. For years, we used our imaginations much more than we do today.

I caught this film on TCM recently. At first I wasn't sure if I would like it but was sucked in thanks to the mystery of why Van Heflin's character was being stalked by Robert Ryan. Revealing why would spoil it for most people, but I highly recommend watching the film. Quite frankly this could be another classic Hollywood film noir, as it takes place in 1940's Los Angeles, and includes many famous landmarks, like the extinct "Angel's Flight."

Janet Leigh, in her fifth film, gives a fine performance as Heflin's concerned wife, and Mary Astor is a real delight as the woman who befriends Heflin in his state of panic.

This would make an excellent remake today, if done in the style of "L.A. Confidential." Catch this film sometime if you can. You'll enjoy it.

Van Heflin plays a land developer in Los Angeles in the booming years after WW2, whom we see cutting the ribbon on a new sub-division that's opening up. He has a beautiful young wife played by Janet Leigh who adores everything about him and a toddler son as well. When an army buddy played by Robert Ryan unexpectedly shows up, it throws Heflin's little paradise into chaos. His wartime history emerges, presenting a disturbing picture of cowardice and betrayal, things he's kept hidden from everyone, including his wife, but which his own conscience and Ryan as well, won't let him escape. It turns out Ryan's been trailing him from coast to coast. Heflin's disintegration is awesome, one of the finest acting jobs ever. It's all perfectly capped off when he's trying to explain what happened to his unbelieving wife. He winds up on LA's skid row, meeting a party girl who's seen much better days played by Mary Astor, who gets him to confide in her and introduces him to Johnny (Berry Kroeger), someone who can arrange to have all his problems taken care of for a hefty price. The conclusion, a classic western style noir showdown on a breezy night on the railroad tracks, is beautifully done.