The Big Heat: A Film Noir Classic

 

 

THE BIG HEAT (1953)

Directed by Fritz Lang

Columbia Pictures, 90 minutes, Not-rated.

★★★★

 

 

 

The Big Heat is widely regarded as a film noir classic. In my mind, at 90 minutes it’s a bit cramped, but there’s no denying the skillful touch of director Fritz Lang (1890-1970). He was dubbed “Master of Darkness” for both his chosen subject matter and his preference for black in the age of black and white movies. The Big Heat is also remarkable when you think that the then 63-year-old Lang made this film nearly 30 years after he directed Metropolis, which might be the best dystopian film ever made.

 

The Big Heat is cut from different cloth, shrouds. Homicide Sgt. Dave Bannion (Glenn Ford) investigates the alleged suicide of fellow homicide officer Tom Duncan whose wife Bertha (Jeanette Nolan) says was in poor health. Several things don’t add up. Why is everyone in such a hurry to close the book on Duncan? Why does Tom’s mistress Lucy Chapman (Dorothy Green) insist that Tom was perfectly healthy? What kind of guy about to off himself leaves a note for the district attorney rather than friends and family? Why can’t Dave see the contents of the note?

 

In a good film noir, questions like these portend murder. Bannion is suspicious and how can he not be when Chapman joins Duncan in the Great Beyond–with cigarette burns on her body? To Bannion’s nose everything smells like the work of mobster Mike Lagana (Alexander Scourby). Yet superiors order him to close the book on the case. Of course, he won’t; even when the case is moved out of his jurisdiction. When Bannion accuses higher ups of ignoring evidence and corruption, he is suspended and his badge is revoked. As if that’s going to stop him after a car bomb kills his wife, Katie (Jocelyn Brando).

 

The free-lancing Bannion is certain he’s on the right track when he’s in a bar and observes Lagana’s chief punk Vince Stone (Lee Marvin) extinguish a cigar on a woman’s arm. Bannion challenges him and his lowlife buddies. That catches the attention of Stone’s girlfriend Debby Marsh (Gloria Grahame), whom we infer has herself been on the wrong end of Vince’s anger. But which side is she on? The Big Heat has more femmes fatales than an NBA locker room has castoff sneakers. Moreover, aside from Bannion and his war buddies, there aren’t many men who can be trusted either. Threats to Bannion’s daughter are the icing on an explosive cake.

 

The term gritty is apropos for a film that could only make an undertaker happy. If Bannion is right, he truly is a man on his own. In his mind, everyone from the police commissioner on down is beholden to the mob. The drama hinges on Dave’s ability to stay alive and, he thinks, the content of Duncan’s note.

 

Glenn Ford is terrific as a man metaphorically dancing on the edge of the razor in his bare feet. He’s angry, but also scared. As well he should be. Lee Marvin is chilling as the amoral Vince Stone and, for once, the women in the film get to play major parts. Gloria Grahame shines in a role that requires her to walk a tightrope with no safety net to catch her. You can rest assured also that any film directed by Fritz Lang and cinematographer Charles Lang (no relation to Fritz) will be stylish and moody.

 

The only thing that mars the film is that it should have been longer. Sydney Boehm’s screenplay based on a William McGivern novel requires viewers to juggle a few too many characters. Though McGivern’s work was brief (200 pages), Boehm’s truncated script strips away depth, not enough to rob characters of their personalities, but enough to provide temporary confusion over their respective relationships.

 

As for Dave Bannion, is there any hope if the establishment is rotten to the core? Has he allowed his grief to make him paranoid? Losing a friend, a wife, a few witnesses, and worrying about a kidnap plot on your daughter could make you so. Watch and find out who is left standing.

 

Rob Weir