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Early in his career, Erich Von Stroheim was well known for his temperament and excesses--so much so that his once celebrated career was practically in ruins by the 1940s. Because his star power had faded so, he was forced to act in a few relatively low budget films that were surprisingly good--much better than you'd expect. Part of this was due to Von Stroheim's acting, but it also was fortunate that he was paired with a young but very talented director (Anthony Mann). Because of his success with films like THE GREAT FLAMARION, Mann went on to direct many wonderful films and Von Stroheim had a mild resurgence in his prospects.

The film begins with a murder at a theater in Mexico. A short time later, a badly wounded Von Stroheim is discovered by the lone person still in the theater and Von Stroheim tells his story about why he committed the murder. Since you know that the murder occurred, there isn't a lot of suspense about the whole thing, but the film did a wonderful job of making the viewer actually care about him and understand why he felt compelled to kill this particular woman. The sweet and lovely Connie, you learn, is one horrible lady and her character is exceptionally interesting and gritty--sort of like an evil Noir femme fatale. She is so compelling to watch that this helps to elevate the film well above the ordinary.

Overall, a very entertaining film that nearly earns an 8. Fascinating character studies and a great script help make this one a keeper.

The Great Flamarion is directed by Anthony Mann and collectively written by Anne Wigton, Heinz Herald, Richard Weil and Vicki Baum. It stars Erich von Stroheim, Mary Beth Hughes, Dan Duryea, Stephen Barclay, Lester Allen and Esther Howard. Music is by Alexander Laszlo and cinematography by James S. Brown Jr.

Back stage of a vaudeville show and a woman is killed, the perpetrator of the crime escapes up into the rafters. Soon he falls to the ground, and cradled by one of the stage employees, he tells a story of lust, deceit, murder and broken hearts...

Though it falls into a familiar subset of film noir that encompasses the obsessive dupe, reference Criss Cross, The Killers, Scarlet Street et al, Anthony Mann's film has a most interesting structure. Story is essentially told from the mouth of a dying man, his guilt set in stone, we spin to flashbacks and narration as The Great Flamarion (Stroheim) himself clues us in to the dangers of not following your brain, but what's in your underwear.

Flamarion, wonderfully essayed by the acid faced Stroheim, is a sharp-shooter on the vaudeville circuit. Once burned in love years previously, he now lives only for his work and he's friendless, miserable and intolerable to work for. His two assistants are husband and wife team Connie (Hughes) and Al (Duryea) Wallace, he's a drunk and she's out for what she can get, and what she wants at this moment in time spells trouble for Flamarion and Al. So begins a treacherous tale as a once wise and closed off man falls hook, line and sinker for a pair of shapely legs young enough to be propping up his daughter.

Connie Wallace (Hughes excellent) is one of the classic femme fatales, she's not just duping one man, not even two, her capacities for feathering her own nest are enormous. Watching her break down Flamarion's walls is pitch black stuff, as is Flamarion's pitiful descent into becoming a broken man, while Duryea's (another in his long line of great film noir losers) Al roams the edges of the frame as a pitiful drunk stumbling towards doom. The dialogue may not always catch the mood right, but as a story, performed and written, it's clinical noir.

Out of Republic Studios, there's obviously budget restrictions, but Mann was a shrewd director in noir circles and crafts a tight and crafty picture. It's never overtly expressionistic but the all round effect garnered by the lighting techniques pumps the haunting like tale with atmosphere. There's also a gentle pulse of sexual politics in the narrative, and saucy suggestion as well, with the director asking us to peek under the curtain to spy a world of horny sad-sacks and dangerous females.

It's not front line Mann or as good as Scarlet Street (released after The Great Flamarion), but it is a little noir gem. With top performances, pitch black plotting and a message that tells us to never take our eye off the ball, it's very much recommended to the film noir faithful. 8/10

Despite the title suggesting a comedy Erich von Stroheim actually plays the sort of role Emil Jannings played in the twenties. In the third of a quartet of quickies to pay his medical bills after a serious illness we actually see the famous neck being shaved with a cutthroat razor before going onstage to perform the act with firearms that makes the film worth watching.

It's good to see him share the screen with a young Dan Duryea a few months before the latter clashed with Edward G. Robinson in 'Scarlet Street' in this early film directed by Anthony Mann, which shows flashes of the promise he later fulfilled.

"The Great Flamarion" is an undiscovered little gem of a film from Rebublic that features von Stroheim as the title character, a cold and arrogant vaudeville performer who specializes in sharp shooting. He is assisted in his act by Connie and Al Wallace, a seemingly happy couple. When Connie professes her love for Flamarion and tells of her husband's abusive nature and hard-drinking, Flamarion eventually opens his heart to this femme-fatale, played to the hilt by Mary Beth Hughes, a most underrated actress, who toys with men in the tradition of film noir greats such as Joan Bennett in "Scarlet Street," Jane Greer in "Out of The Past," and Yvonne DeCarlo in "Criss Cross." When Connie suggests that Flamarion accidentally hit Al, portrayed by the always terrific Dan Duryea, during their gun skit, Flamarion's life changes forever. Anthony Mann's direction is taut and economic. The film, told through flashbacks, captures the desperation and loneliness of a man willing to do anything for love. Next to "Sunset Boulevard," this is one of von Stroheim's finest hours as an actor. He allows himself to show joy and vulnerability as he never has before on screen.

Von Stroheim is superbly cast as a stage sharpshooter who succumbs to the charms of his scheming assistant. Though some may not appreciate the actor's ramrod-spined, Teutonic demeanor, such bearing is useful in the portrayal of stoicism and all the pitfalls that it engenders. Von Stroheim's dearth of emotionality makes all the more credible his character's inability to discern the falseness of personalities, and there is a unique poignancy in watching him go through the paces of a festering realization of perfidy. The plot, however, is pedestrian and, related in flashback, all the more predictable. Von Stroheim mavens should appreciate the movie, though, as should devotees of Dan Duryea, who plays a hard-drinking, done-wrong hoofer.