L'affaire de la 99ème rue

This might be Phil Karlson's tightest, most satisfying film.

John Payne and Evelyn Keyes play it in the best pulp tradition, with Keyes especially enjoyable in a couple of marvelous set-pieces, one in an empty theater and the other a greasy-spoon diner where she really vamps it up with Brad Dexter. Too bad Keyes dropped out of pictures in the mid-50s.

John Payne and Evelyn Keyes head for "99 River Street" in this film noir directed by Phil Karlson, and a very good one it is. Payne plays Ernie Driscoll, a washed up fighter who now drives a cab and has to take insults from his pretty, actress wannabe wife Pauline (Peggy Castle) who coulda been a contender if she hadn't married him. It turns out that she has a crooked boyfriend, Victor Rawlins (Brad Dexter) who is planning to get $50,000 from some diamonds and run away with her. When the fence refuses to deal with Rawlins because there's a woman with him, Rawlins kills Pauline and puts her body in Ernie's cab! Ernie's got to clear himself, and a friend at the cab company (Frank Faylen) and an aspiring actress friend (Evelyn Keyes) are there to help.

There are a very neat twists in this very atmospheric, gritty noir, which doesn't hold back on the violence. John Payne obviously loved this genre, or else he wanted to work against his clean-cut leading man image of the '40s. Here he looks like a fighter who's taken a lot of punches, and he does a great job as a basically good guy who's been dealt some bad cards and is angry about it. You're really pulling for him. Evelyn Keyes is wonderful as his friend, and her seduction act in a bar is one of the best scenes in the film. Frank Faylen, of course, is always likable - this is about six years before he became Dobie Gillis' father. Brad Dexter is excellent as a ruthless gangster.

Recommended, particularly if you like the genre.

Poor Ernie. He takes a beating in the boxing ring, and then even a bigger one from two heartless women. You can just feel his smoldering emotion about to explode like a hand grenade on that theatre stage. All those theatre types rushing around patting themselves on the back, while he stands there, the disbelieving dupe.

As the luckless boxer turned cabbie turned fall guy, Payne's great. The anguish all over his cracked face. So how's he going to get back his self-respect when he keeps getting the short end of the stick. Now he's up for a murder rap unless he can track down the slippery Rawlins (Dexter), which doesn't get any easier especially after the cagey slickster puts a bullet hole in him. Rarely have I seen a movie where the lead takes such a beating.

But what can he expect when he's got that silken tramp Peggie Castle (Pauline) for a wife. Who could trust her around any man. Too bad actress Castle died so young; she was so good in these heartless roles. Then there's Eveline Keyes as Linda who can't seem to decide which side of the fence she's on. At least as an actress Keyes could give a graduate course in how to over-act, judging from the movie's first half.

This is a typical Phil Karlson film—you can feel the characters' pain even if it is up there on the movie screen. At times, Karlson's close-ups are a stunning portrait of agony. It's noir, for sure, even if the focus is more on character than shadowy atmosphere, though there's still a lot of the latter. At times the plot gets a little confusing, but that's okay since Ernie's supposed to be up against dark forces he can barely distinguish. Anyway, it's first-rate thick- ear, showing why Karlson's considered a master of crime drama that makes us not just see but feel as well.

I had really only been familiar with John Payne from his role in the Christmas classic "Miracle on 34th Street" and perhaps a forgettable musical or two. Naturally I was amazed at how effective he is in this dazzling, violent noir as a basically decent but brooding and extremely volatile former prize fighter reduced to driving a cab to support his beautiful, cheating wife. His acting is unflinching, unsentimental and completely authentic. He creates nearly as vivid and memorable a hard luck character as Marlon Brando did in "On The Waterfront".

The big city of this film (as presented by the marvelous and criminally under-appreciated director Phil Karlson) is a simultaneous vision of heaven and hell. Frank Faylen, Evelyn Keyes and Eddy Waller are angels, willing to do anything to protect vulnerable Payne (even mislead the police), their faith in his inherent goodness unshakeable despite his tirades and self-destructive tendencies. Brad Dexter, Peggie Castle, Jay Adler and Jack Lambert are devils; selfish, ruthless and evil to the core (although there are shadings to Castle's portrayal of the cheating wife which suggest she does feel some remorse). At one point Payne gets caught in the web of the villainous Adler, who has bigger fish to fry, and explains that he needs to be let go so he can find the man who framed him for murder. "Well, isn't that unfortunate?" Adler coldly responds before having one of his henchman conk Payne on the back of the head.

You'll have a hard time finding a better supporting cast than the one here. One of those rare movies where everyone nails their parts and comes through with a fresh, inspired take. A sly, sturdy, thrilling, consistently surprising picture.

As in the the previous year's Kansas City Confidential, John Payne is a most put-upon protagonist. Directed by KC Confidential's Phil Karlson, and photographed in gorgeous black and white, alternately harsh and painterly, by Franz Planer, this one has Payne as a washed up prizefighter who must avenge his worthless wife's murder, not because he cared particularly for her but because he is (falsely) implicated in it. Payne has to take on a good number of unsavory characters, and proves himself if nothing else still a most able man with his fists. There's a nice feeling for fifties urban night life in this one, of a less than high class style. Karlson shows an almost Fritz Langian feeling for the traps people fall into, personal and criminal, and like Lang doesn't go much for self-pity. In the Karlson scheme of things guys get framed for things they didn't do every day, affluent crooks wear expensive overcoats and take cruises fairly regularly, while working stiffs get the wrong end of the stick every time. It takes a tough man to survive in this universe. Payne is not only tough he's so resolute and bad tempered as to make the real bad guys look like the respectable businessmen they claim to be. It's Payne Against the World in this one. Or Pain Against the World, as the character Payne plays seems to suffer as much from internal anguish as anything the villains of the piece cook up for him.