A Sombra da Guilhotina

I watched REIGN OF TERROR, aka, THE BLACK BOOK last night and I just loved it! It's one of the most unusual films I have come across and an equally strange hybrid of genres or sub-genres. The great Anthony Mann takes a film that would probably play mostly as a colorful, sweeping, epic piece dealing with the French revolution and turns it, with the help of cinematographer John Alton, into a dark, shadowy and claustrophobic film noir/adventure/spy/suspense tale period piece featuring excellent performances from a cast that includes Robert Cummings, Richard Basehart and Arlene Dahl. The plot is pretty simple actually, Cummings plays an operative of the newly formed republic who infiltrates the inner circle of dictator wannabe Basehart. You see, Basehart thinks Cummings is a regional tyrant as bad as he is called the "butcher of Strasbourg" and he wants Cummings to find his black book which contains the names of friend and foe alike who will eventually be lead to execution once Basehart becomes dictator. However, if the book falls into the hands of his enemies, Basehart is dead meat. Cummings is assisted in his quest by the lovely Dahl. Even though the plot may be thin, the suspense and action are on high as danger and one confrontation after another awaits around every dark, gloomy and shadowy Parisian corner. The look of the film is outstanding. Atmospheric, gritty and dark with shadows everywhere in the great noir tradition. Mann's camera is everywhere as we receive his trademark high angle shots, low angle moments and jarring and disjointed facial close-ups. A truly unique and highly entertaining film with a look and feel that just has to be experienced. I loved it and would recommend it highly to anyone with even the slightest interest in the work of the wonderful Anthony Mann.

This film, beautifully wrought (cinematographer John Alton must be responsible for much of this), makes me long to return to the days of black and white films and the stunning art that can be made in shades of gray.

From the first shot of a tiny distant rider silhouetted against massive lowering storm clouds, we are pulled into the mood of the film. The smallness of the rider is the smallness of the protagonist in the face of the overpowering events of the French Revolution. The use of light and shadow, the low shots and unusual closeups of actors: all of this made me feel I was in the hands of a master of his art. My breath was literally taken away by many of these images.

The story is serviceable and the acting quite good, but what sticks with me is the imagery of the film, the beauty of it.

There isn't anything happening in the plot to this little gem that hasn't been seen in at least 6 or 7 other films dealing with this time period.The difference,however,lies in the treatment.The other movies usually paint the protagonists in bold colors,emphasizing their dash,flair,attractiveness,and nobility,while the leaders of the reign of terror are seen as savage,cruel,inhuman,bloodthirsty,and psychotic savages.Well,they still are in this film,but the hero and heroine also show some pretty dark,sinister aspects as well.So,the good guys aren't the kind we're used to seeing. The pleasent surprise is seeing more versatility from both Cummings,and Dahl.We're so used to seeing them,especially HIM,as rather shallow,lightweight,and frivolous characters on so many sitcoms and comedies.It would have been a nice treat to have had more opportunities to see them do films of this nature.

Robert Cummings (D'Aubigny) goes undercover to end the reign of terror that has gripped France after the revolution in the C18th. Richard Basehart (Robespierre) is about to pronounce himself dictator. Basically, he likes cutting people's heads off and he really likes it a lot. He has a black book with the names of everyone who he'd like to execute, and this book is the key to his downfall if it were to fall into the hands of the French people. Can Cummings and fellow Freedom Fighter Arlene Dahl (Madelon) prevent Basehart from realizing his dream?

An enjoyable film which moves along quickly so pay attention or you'll get confused, especially at the beginning. Then you can just roll with it and enjoy the tense scenes that turn up along the way. A good example is when Cummings is about to come face to face with his supposed wife, who will obviously betray him by not recognizing him. This is because Cummings has taken the identity of her husband and Basehart and his cronies are watching her reaction and are ready to arrest him at the slightest indication of non-familiarity. There is a bit of unnecessary violence at the film's end but I guess they wanted to show what was really happening. Someone certainly isn't going to talk anymore.

The cast are all good - especially Arnold Moss (Fouche) in a very creepy role. Can he be trusted by anyone? I like the film's ending where a soldier with his back to camera announces his name to Moss after a brief word about the future of France. What a shame that the quality of the film isn't that good.

Out of the chaos and carnage of the French Revolution, Anthony Mann fashions not a sweeping historical epic à la A Tale of Two Cities but a tight and shaded suspense story. His gifted collaborator is director of photography John Alton, whose preference for the murky suggestively limned with light was never so evident as in his work here, in country inns and the cellars of bakeshops and the cobbled pavements of torchlit Paris.

The plot centers on Robespierre (a peruked Richard Basehart), who has embarked on a spree of mock trials and executions of his rivals in preparation to having himself proclaimed dictator; he's just disposed of Danton. A less than adulatory element loyal to the ideals of the newly formed Republic, but not to its current leaders, aims to stop him. One of their operatives (Robert Cummings) infiltrates Robespierre's inner circle by posing as the `butcher of Strasbourg,' a regional tyrant as bloodthirsty as Robespierre himself.

But in the circle of men closest to the power of the state, trust is a commodity in short supply; they watch their own backs and scheme to stab each others'. It's Cummings' job to negotiate this maze of duplicity and locate Robespierre's `black book,' in which he records neither his amatory conquests nor vintages he's sampled but his next victims. Exposure of this book will mean Robespierre's downfall. With the aid of proto-Bondgirl Arlene Dahl, Cummings races the clock in a round of near-fatal wild goose chases.

Reign of Terror remains a costumed adventure – a chase movie – but Mann paces it swiftly and slyly. And, fresh from some ground-breaking work in film noir, he and Alton give it a compellingly sinister look. Most period pieces are lit as if on the equator at high noon; this has to be the inkiest costume movie ever filmed (even Charles McGraw, as a bearded soldier of the Republic, goes all but unrecognizable). The darkness doesn't limit itself to the lighting – the script, by Aeneas MacKenzie and Philip Yordan, rustles with ambiguous motives and queer twists. There's even an ironic note of premonition sounded at the end, when the slimy survivor Fouché (Arnold Moss), asks the name of a young soldier. `Bonaparte,' comes the answer. `Napoleon Bonaparte.'