Friday, January 8, 2016

Brute Force (1947)

I sat on this disc for a while, taking a break from movies in general. The title suggested that I would have to prepare myself for more grit. On the other hand, the year of release guaranteed that it wouldn't show anything too severe on screen. The golden age of film noir was bleak but hardly ripe for R ratings, especially in Hollywood.

This one belongs to the semi-genre of prison films, which must have felt pretty well-worn after the '30s. But compared to the bulk of those, BF could be seen as more of a precursor to The Shawshank Redemption. While the prisoners are all decidedly criminal -- even collectively murdering snitches -- they get far more of our sympathy than harsh, deceptively soft-spoken chief of security Munsey (Hume Cronyn). Joe Collins (Burt Lancaster) leads a group effort to escape, not only because the prison is intolerable but because his wife refuses vital medical attention unless he's with her.

Unlike in Shawshank, only Munsey is a real jerk. The warden keeps requesting (in vain) funds for better conditions, perhaps not for mercy's sake but to quell the growing unrest and hopefully reform more ex-cons. Better still is the prison doctor, who calls out Munsey and won't do anything to get the prisoners in more trouble, regardless of what he knows or suspects.

Also unlike in TSR, the escape attempt fails. This may sound like a spoiler to you, but it is a foregone conclusion to anyone familiar with the Hays Publication Code, which prevented criminals from getting away with anything. I wonder how differently director Jules Dassin would have done it otherwise. As it is, he did shock contemporary viewers, and the ending isn't given as "happy."

Joe is but one of several colorful prisoners, including one played by Charles Bickford, each thinking about a woman. Indeed, after the opening credits introduce the first four main actors, we get four "women on the outside," all shown in flashbacks as men stare at a single pinup. This is about the best we could hope for from an old movie set in a men's prison.

Apart from the sentiments, I'd say the highlight is Lancaster. I already knew from Sweet Smell of Success that he was a master of projecting bitterness. Anyone can play a grump, but something in his face and voice work overtime to say, "I will always be angry, and so should you." A man of his time, no doubt.

Despite this, I felt better during and after the film than I had before. It is certainly at least admirable.

No comments:

Post a Comment