PROLOGUE
Too many Bollywood films in the 80s and 90s bolstered by the
phenomenon of the angry young man featured the protagonist as a cop hell-bent
on busting crime with a passion which can only be termed ‘manic’ and a personal confrontational style which is centered
around violence – acting out fatuous impulses with the inevitable result that
his loved ones would be promptly bumped off, which would again only, understandably
whet his appetite for further mindless destruction. This celebrated ‘knight’
always simmered with seething rage which would ultimately boil over, but at the
same time was also capable of performing good deeds like rescuing a hapless
orphan from the streets. Bollywood brought out (and still does) a slew of
anti-establishment films characterised by a compulsive desire to dispose off
every piece of criminal scum in the country, featuring heroes whose destructive
behaviour ensures that every member of the supporting cast either got killed or
tortured. What these films essentially manifest is a war and the troubled hero
as the soldier for whom this war becomes his only life.
A Different Bane
Before attempting to write a critique of ‘The Big Heat’, it
is perhaps important to understand 2 things – firstly, the notion of
the dark anti-hero as developed in art and secondly, the origins of the film’s
director, Fritz Lang. Art forms like cinema and comics have developed and
fine-tuned the ‘anti-hero’ concept for the last 4 decades, evolving the lone
crusader from a do-gooder with an individualistic sense of meting out justice
at all costs into the morally-flawed paranoid reactionary who is only too
willing to kill and maim in his quest; a possessed individual with twisted,
dark moods and overt violence in his thoughts and actions. However, it was a
far more conventional form of evil which had shaped and defined Fritz Lang’s
life and work. Partly-Jewish Lang was one of the foremost German directors (he
had already made ‘M’ and ‘Metropolis’) and personally mandated by Hitler and
Goebbles to make Nazi propaganda films before he escaped and became a Hollywood
legend making films out of the eternal motifs of the dubious circumstances
surrounding man and the evil that perennially lurks inside him. Lang’s films
are streaked by the presence of individuals insidiously primed to wreak
violence and the accompanying emotional ravages. Lang’s career spanned
geography, language and culture; bridging as it did both the silent and sound
eras. Lang’s earlier films effectively laid the ground stone for establishment
of that intense brooding genre in Hollywood’s Golden Age - film-noir.
On the face of it, this is a plain cop-versus-mob crime thriller
but it has considerable dark undertones of moral ambiguity and psychological
conflict. Like many other film-noir classics, this is a canvas defined not by
the traditionally uplifting qualities of heroism, idealism or duty but by
knotty hues of self-preservation, vengeance and utter oblivion in its pursuit. This
is a remarkably violent film – in which other film else have you seen all the
female characters killed off?
The film starts with a lingering shot of a pistol lying on a
table in a study. A man picks it up and blows his brains out. Glenn Ford as
Detective Sgt. Dave Bannion is assigned to the case and he starts the
investigation with the dead man’s widow. It turns out that the dead man’s an
ex-cop and from there, Bannion picks up the threads leading to a brief meeting
with the man’s girlfriend who comes up with a possible story which Bannion
finds unbelievable and the widow upon questioning, dismisses as baseless. Subsequent
events seems to point at the prevailing mob boss in the city and his henchman
Vince Stone (a very young but very very talented Lee Marvin). The introduction
of Vince Stone’s character is accompanied by the first appearance of his girl,
Gloria Grahame as Debby Marsh. Juxtaposed against the coldness of the criminal
world are interesting short and warm vignettes of Bannion’s blissful life with
his wife (Jocelyn Brando) and kid.
This film which is at one level, that of a heroic and
dedicated police officer is at another wholly disparate level, really about
something else. The tipping point in the film occurs when the murder
investigation casts its own dark spell of mayhem on Bannion’s little family. The
big heat inside Bannion’s character find a volcanic way out…and how!!
Besides the dead man in the opening sequence, the story
chillingly kills off all the 4 main female leads and what is morally damning
for Bannion is that in one way or another, his reckless actions have been
culpable in all the 4 killings. Bannion for all his sincerity and dedication in
the early part of the murder investigation is prone to foolhardy and impulsive
decisions. Like when he promptly discloses the information provided by the dead
man’s girlfriend which leads to her torture and ultimate murder, and he does
not think twice before bouncing off to the mob boss’ house to confront him for
threatening calls being made to his house, and to add insult to further injury,
slams his fist into an underling’s face at the slightest provocation.
The tragedy which befalls his family shortly afterwards lays
bare the sinister mask underneath Bannion’s character. A brilliantly played-out
scene of intimidation, brazen challenge and momentary capitulation in a city
bar involving Vince, Debby, another mob hand and Bannion, brings to the fore
Bannion’s barely-suppressed rage. “Thief!”
Bannion splutters with venom at the face of Vince.
This scene at the bar prefaces the third act of the film
which was for me personally, the most enigmatic. This portion of the story
showcases the immense talents of Gloria (Debby) and Lee (Vince). Debby is the
typical moll with a flippant attitude, a light speech and coquettish mannerisms
(eyes which twinkle with allure, lips which curl up invitingly, and a languorous
body language) and the gangster Vince possesses that coldness evident in the
thin lips, lean face and not-unattractive scowl. Lee successfully portrays the
wired-up violent streak in Vince’s character which the film brings out with
sharp intensity in a couple of marvelous bits. The most vicious bit of violence
in the film is where Vince with great intent and a chilling callousness,
upturns a pot of boiling coffee on Debby’s beautiful face. This coffee-throwing
incident sparks a transformation in Debby from a vacuous and self-loving pretty
girl whose favourite pastime it seems, is checking herself in a mirror. Gloria
excels in the character of Debby; her bounce, lithe figure, a child-like
enunciation and suggestive expressions are on the surface, all that is to the
character. As with most such characters however, there is a hard steel in the
spirit and an obscure sense of righteousness which when provoked, manifests
itself in the most resolute of actions. The new Debby proceeds ahead on that
new trail of retribution along with Bannion.
This is a remarkable film; remarkable for its performances,
remarkable for the terrific lines (Debby with her irreparably disfigured face
bravely tries to keep up her act: "I
guess the scar isn't so bad -- not if it's only on one side. I can always go
through life sideways.”), remarkable because it does not shy away from
uncovering the terrible face of human lusts even when the mission seems righteous.
The main writer of the screenplay is screenwriter Sydney Boehm, a former crime
reporter who alongwith Lang lends that strange, unquiet air of apprehension and
impending danger.
p.s. Though largely
unheralded in his lifetime, Fritz Lang’s oeuvre is the stuff of master
filmmaking and the sceptre of the dangerous world of layered human evil is
relevant in modern cinema too. No wonder then, that as a heads-up to the great
director in Quentin Tarantino’s latest offering replete with cinematic references - ‘Django Unchained’, the beguiling, menacing character of Dr. King
Schultz played by Christoph Waltz rides on a horse whose name is you guessed
it, ‘Fritz’!!
CineM’s Verdict:
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