Face of Fire

Having been stung by a few efforts of my own, it is rare outside of educational or PBS to see a film faithful to its literary source like Face of Fire, based on Stephen Crane's story, The Monster. Albert Band's direction sets the atmosphere of small town 1890's America down to the last detail. James Whitmore plays Monk, a hired hand who burns his face rescuing the doctor's son from a horrendous fire. No cures of the time can restore his face so his sweetheart and the townspeople who once admired him soon turn into a lynch mob when women and children frightened by seeing him step in front of a wagon and get run over. Monk was a Negro in Crane's story, though, the only detail which might have elevated the film to a racial allegory. The boy's transformation from fear and ignorance back to his kindness and friendship for Monk are a heart string-tugging depiction indeed with photography comparable to Orson Welles' Magnificent Ambersons or Igmar Bergman movies. Filmed in Sweden with excellent music from Erik Nordstrom.

I'd recommend this film highly for many reasons, most notably its beautiful black & white photography and the authentic small-town feel it evokes, thanks to very sensitive direction and performances. By the way, in the original Stephen Crane story this film is based on, Monk Johnson is a negro.

At times, a minor production such as "Marty" becomes a popular classic. That pleasant fate should have befallen "Face of Fire", which is four years newer. Somehow, though, this film is nearly unknown, and the reasons for that escape me. Whatever Graces there are that smile upon certain smaller productions, elevating them to must-see status, have certainly not been equitable. Has anyone ever seen a film in which James Whitmore and Royal Dano are anything less than terrific? I saw "Face of Fire" in theatrical release, as the second half of a double feature. (The main feature? I've forgotten. But "Face of Fire" remains forever burned into memory.) It's thought-provoking, disturbing, and highly recommended to all.

In 1972 a man walked into my Flying Tigers Operations office at LAX and asked for help picking up a shipment. I recognized Royal Dano immediately, both face and voice. I asked one of my warehouse men to get the shipment, and then I told Mr. Dano I had just seen Face of Fire on TV, and that I was struck by it. I noted his character was a sympathetic role, opposed to what he usually did. And, I said I thought the cinema photography was excellent. He agreed, and we talked about the film and the Swedish cinema photographer for another 30 minutes. It was a wonderful experience. Years later I considered that Mel Gibson's The Man Without a Face might have derived from Royal Dano's film.

Coming from small Allied Artists studio Face Of Fire might have easily been overlooked in 1959 the year of Ben-Hur. Yet this film opened to a lot of critical acclaim for James Whitmore in his portrayal of the badly burned man who is shunned by the small town and all the people who took to his genial personality.

Making it all the worse is that Whitmore was burned performing a heroic act rescuing young Miko Oscard from a fire in his doctor/father's laboratory. The man's face was burned and badly disfigured. Although we never quite see Whitmore what indications we do have tell how serious his injuries were.

Cameron Mitchell and Bettye Ackerman play Oscard's parents. They don't shun Whitmore, in fact Mitchell feels a responsibility to help him all he can.

And Whitmore becomes a fugitive from all who liked him before by simply leaving the place he'd been hidden away and going out among people. He never does anything, but they're all frightened of "The Monster".

Better known of course for The Red Badge Of Courage, Stephen Crane wrote this searing indictment of the American small town of what was called "The Gay Nineties". Nothing remotely gay about this small town in any sense of the word.

This little known film at the time is a real sleeper and several familiar character players are in the cast. But above all watch what Whitmore does with his performance.

And this review is dedicated to a kid I knew decades ago named Tom Lubart who went to school with me scarred as he was when a pot boiling spaghetti sauce fell on him as a toddler. I hope you're happy Tom wherever you are.