Racket

Amusing, inexpensive, and predictable, this 50's gangster film's highlights are the snarling confrontations between Ryan and Top Cop Robert Mitchum. Ryan's cruelties are three-dimensional, but Mitchum seems to be thinking about something offscreen when he's not in a face-off with Ryan. Other secondary characterizations are quite vivid, especially by Ray Collins (a few years before "Touch of Evil") as a crooked political candidate, and William Talman, 50's TV stalwart, as the doomed rookie cop.

This film reminds me a lot of an earlier film that paired Robert Mitchum and Robert Ryan (CROSSFIRE), as both have very tough and gritty plots that are excellent examples of Film Noir. However, in this film instead of a plot involving anti-semitism, it's a good cop versus organized crime flick. Once again, Ryan is a scumbag and Mitchum is a decent and hard-as-nails cop bent on justice. A particular standout is the dialog between them--very snappy and pure Noir! I particularly liked the exchanges between them in the police station when they were cross-examining the cocky and unrepentant Ryan. And, since it is Noir, you know that there will be ample quantities of violence and testosterone. Give it a try--this is a seldom-mentioned classic.

The Racket (1951)

A stellar cast and gritty photography can't quite lift this movie into the exciting classic it might have been. The basic problem here is the material, the story, which is slow and steady. It involves lots of conversations, all filmed with huge drama, about negotiating new ways of doing things as a national mob organization squeezes out the local mob boss.

This is still a good movie, for sure. Robert Ryan plays the local boss getting overshadowed and he ramps it up as usual, beating a few people senseless. Robert Mitchum is given a dull role, not as a cop on the beat but as the chief of a precinct in charge of cops on the beat. And he was once buddies with Ryan, so they have a couple of one-on-ones. Lizabeth Scott is sharp and as good as she gets in her quirky femme fatale manner, but we don't see enough of her. Throw in Ray Collins as a slithering politico (a role he seems to have been born for) and William Conrad as a corrupt cop (with many pounds to gain before his days as t.v.'s Cannon, etc.) and you see how it looks like good stuff.

A star behind the scenes is definitely cinematographer George E. Diskant, not a big name in the field but responsible for several terrific film noirs including the flawless "They Live by Night." He is in good form here even though there isn't much action. You only wish the director, John Cromwell, had more guts to let Diskant fly with things. Cromwell is one of those by-the-book directors who gets the job done but doesn't seem to see the opportunities to surprise the viewer. And he was loaded with opportunity here.

The story is basically about life as a cop in a big city. That's why half the time (almost literally) we are in the police station. Or a squad car. There is no actual crime at the center of things (lots of crimes go zipping by, for sure). It's not about solving a crime, but about getting the old boss. It's Mitchum vs. Ryan. And Ryan is more fun. Things get fairly complicated, perhaps needlessly, but the overall trend is toward justice, and how it is best served in a corrupt world. Filled with good nuances, but packaged a bit awkwardly by the end.

I say this isn't quite a film noir, but of course in the big picture most people would have to call it that. What it lacks (for me) is the loneliness of the lead character, and maybe even the evilness of the femme fatale. Mitchum is part of a big machine, and a sympathetic one (a huge police force). Ryan is just a thug, and a mean one with a small mind. It's pure crime stuff with noir stylizing. Good enough for a great evening--if you stay alert to all the details.

Entertaining film with politics, crime and corruption the main themes here.

Robert Mitchum plays a dedicated, righteous policeman who heads a unit of officers. He is as honest as 24 hours in a day. He takes pride in such officers as Bill Talman, a young cop gunned down in police headquarters by the usually evil Robert Ryan. Without the insanity of his earlier crime driven roles, Ryan comes across as the embodiment of evil.

Ray Collins steals the show as a worm of a prosecuting attorney up to his neck in corruption. It is interesting to note that both Collins and Talman went on to TV careers in "Perry Mason."

Lizabeth Scott, as a lounge singer, caught up in the mayhem, tries hard to please but she does not evoke the emotion needed for her role.

To say that the ending is justified is more than right.

The 80-minutes has the cast elements of a memorable crime drama—Ryan, Mitchum, Talman, Conrad. Then too, RKO's head honcho Howard Hughes actively participated, along with a narrative of city corruption that's handled in some revealing detail. So why aren't the results more memorable than I think they are. To me, the screenplay is more congested than it should be. For example, Liz Scott's role is clearly there for marquee value, adding nothing to the plot, other than crowding up the many characters and sub-plots. Considering the number of writes, rewrites, and re-shoots (IMDB), perhaps the crowding is understandable. All in all, the number of production fingerprints fail to blend into an impactful whole, leaving a movie of a few memorable parts.

Ryan, of course, is Ryan, scary in his intensity, and wholly convincing in his criminal belligerence. Mitchum, however, is cast against type as the unwavering precinct captain. In fact, Captain McQuigg runs his precinct much like Scanlon's (Ryan) territorial tyrant. Thus McQuigg is more like a competing territorial chief than a neutral enforcer of the law, (note how McQuigg unlawfully tears up a legal writ.). The film's worth watching for its outlining of how corruption works in a city environment. District Attorney Welch (Collins) and Sgt. Turk (Conrad) betray their public trust by allying with the crime syndicate, becoming instrumental as go-betweens and influence-peddlers.

This was a period in the country's history (1951) when organized crime was getting headlines thanks to Sen. Kefauver's investigation committee. So Hollywood's response is not surprising. I just wish the movie had lived up to its potential, but I guess there's a lesson here about too many cooks.