NFR Project 'Letter from an Unknown Woman' (1948)

 

NFR Project: “Letter from an Unknown Woman”

Dir: Max Ophuls

Scr: Howard Koch

Pho: Franz Planer

Ed: Ted J. Kent

Premiere: April 28, 1948

86 min.

This is a very uncharacteristic Hollywood movie. This is due to three men – writer Stefan Zweig, producer John Houseman, and director Max Ophuls.

Zweig (1881-1942) was one of the world’s most popular writers. An Austrian, he wrote histories, biographies, and fiction, and was translated into many languages. When Hitler came to power, he escaped his homeland and came first to England and then America. He wrote of life and love in turn-of-the-century Vienna quite eloquently, and with a nostalgia for the pre-World War I culture of the capital. Tragically, his despair over the loss of that culture led to his eventual suicide.

John Houseman (1902-1988), known today for his acting work late in his life, was in fact a Hungarian who was educated in England, and who moved to America in 1925. After a successful career as a grain merchant, he turned to the theater and became a highly regarded writer and producer, best known for his collaborations with a young Orson Welles. When he moved into producing films, he was noted for his meticulous work on prestigious projects. Letter from an Unknown Woman is an example of his superior attention to period detail.

Max Ophuls (1902-1957) was the third Jewish man of this triumvirate of talent. An acclaimed and experienced film director, he also escaped the Nazis and came first to France, and then to America in 1941. Here he continued his career. Letter from an Unknown Woman is his most honored film from this period; he returned to Europe after World War II and made his masterpieces – La Ronde, Lola Montes, Le Plaisir, and The Earrings of Madame de . . . .

Letter is an urbane and mature work, adapted from Zweig's 1922 novella, which examines a curse of unrequited love. A young woman (Joan Fontaine) falls in love with a promising – and womanizing – pianist (Louis Jordan). After years, she finally engineers an evening with him, which he promptly forgets. However, she becomes pregnant, gives birth, and raises their son alone, unknown to him.

Years later, the woman has married an officer, who adopts her son. By chance, she sees the pianist at a concert and determines to see him again. Her husband notes this and promises that he will act with decisiveness if she pursues her passion. Ignoring him, she attempts to reunite with the pianist but finds him a shallow individual who has wasted his talent. Unfortunately, she and her son contract typhus shortly after this and die, but not before she writes a letter to the pianist explaining all. At film’s end, the pianist finds that he has been challenged to a duel by the woman’s husband, and he sets off to an uncertain fate.

The film is told primarily in flashback, and we are given a vision of fin-de-siecle Vienna, gorgeously recreated for the cameras. The subjects of sex outside of wedlock and illegitimate birth was unheard of in Hollywood at the time, but Zweig, Houseman, and Ophus together craft an adult and sophisticated story that accepts the fact that these things happen, and that morality is not entirely black and white.

Ophuls’ patented swooping camera moves are here, and his delicate touch renders this most unconventional story realistic and comprehensible. Its maturity was far beyond the American standards of the time – Ophuls would have to return to Europe to craft more films in this vein.

The NFR is one writer’s attempt to review all the films listed in the National Film Registry in chronological order. Next time: Louisiana Story.

NFR Project: 'In the Street' (1948)

 

NFR Project: “In the Street”

Pho: Helen Levitt, Janice Loeb, James Agee

Ed: Helen Levitt

Premiere: 1948/1952

14/18 min.

Slice of life.

That’s the best way to describe this short film. Taken in Spanish Harlem on the island of Manhattan, it’s the work of three filmmakers who wanted to preserve the look and feel of everyday life in the New York City of their day.

The trio hit the streets, focusing on children at play, passersby, older women maintaining storefronts. The movie is black-and-white and silent; there is no narration to contextualize what we are seeing, no explanation, just plain witnessing.

This agenda-less exercise is of interest to the quiet observer, the unassuming audience member.

The NFR is one writer’s attempt to review all the films listed in the National Film Registry in chronological order. Next time: Letter from an Unknown Woman.

NFR Project: 'Force of Evil' (1948)

 

NFR Project: “Force of Evil”

Dir: Abraham Polonsky

Scr: Abraham Polonsky, Ira Wolfert

Pho: George Barnes

Ed: Art Seid

Premiere: Dec. 25, 1947

76 min.

It turns out the film noir could bear the weight of social commentary. Abraham Polonsky (1910-1999) wrote the screenplay for Body and Soul (1947), a popular prize-fighting picture starring John Garfield. He was then given the chance to direct as well as write. The result was Force of Evil, a thinly disguised critique of capitalism that later got its director and star in hot water with the House Un-American Activities Committee (HUAC).

The story is simple: Garfield plays a crooked lawyer, Joe Morse, who protects a crime combine that runs the numbers racket in New York City. One of the smaller “banks” that run the numbers is owned by his older brother Leo (Thomas Gomez in his greatest role).

Joe and his gangster boss Tucker (Roy Roberts) come up with a scheme to bankrupt the smaller betting parlors so that everyone has to do their gambling through them. This ruthless corporate consolidation means that all the little players squeezed out, including Leo. Joe tries to get Leo to take a position in Tucker’s organization, but Leo refuses.

The scheme works, and soon the police and a rival gang come down hard on Leo. Meanwhile, it becomes apparent that Joe is being surveilled by the government. Joe packs up some cash and a gun and prepares to leave town. Meanwhile, Leo is tricked into meeting an informant at a restaurant, where a rival gang swoops in and kidnaps him, killing his bookkeeper at the same time.

Joe finds out, and rushes to Tucker’s, where he finds Tucker making a deal with the gangster that kidnapped Leo. The rival gangster Ficco reveals that Leo has been murdered and dumped under the George Washington Bridge. Joe lifts the receiver on a tapped phone, allowing the law to hear Ficco confess that his men killed Leo and the bookkeeper. A gun battle breaks out; Tucker and Ficco are killed. Joe leaves and goes to find his brother’s body, then turns himself in to the police.

There is a slight romantic plot between Joe and a young secretary, Doris, but the film is concerned with the mechanics of what is basically a hostile corporate takeover. Crooks will fix the numbers game to get their way; nothing matters but the expansion and domination of the primary criminal enterprise in the city.

Garfield is stellar as Joe, as the film tracks his disillusionment to the bitter end. Joe’s world is nasty, dark, and bristling with hidden weapons that come into play at the end of the film. Crooks are merely shadows of the ruthlessness and disregard for human feeling of the stock market. Money and the system of its distribution inherently corrupt anyone involved with it.

There is a lot of location shooting in New York; Joe’s office is close to Wall Street and the parallels between legitimate banks and numbers banks is made clear. The gangsters are after the cash flow and nothing human is factored into their machinations. Joe gets wise to himself – but too late to save his brother.

In 1951, Polonsky and Garfield were summoned before HUAC but refused to “name names” of American Communists; both were blacklisted. Garfield died of a heart attack at the age f 39 in 1952. Polonsky wrote under pseudonyms until 1959. Never again would Hollywood let someone with anti-capitalist sentiments get behind a movie camera.

The NFR is one writer’s attempt to review all the films listed in the National Film Registry in chronological order. Next time: In the Street.