Touch of evil

>> The Parc screens the 50th anniversary version of The Third Man

by MATTHEW HAYS

 It's difficult to know where to begin when venturing to gush over The Third Man. The perfect performances, the dead-on writing, the awe-inspiring cinematography--this is, as many film critics and historians have observed, a seamless, deeply affecting film.

 Set entirely in post-war Vienna, The Third Man is anchored in an intricate screenplay, penned by Graham Greene. (This rerelease will allow filmgoers to get another taste of Greene's brilliance, if they, like me, feel that the current Neil Jordan film End of the Affair misses the mark.) Apparently inspired by the setting itself, the film has a worn pulp novelist (Joseph Cotten) arriving in Vienna to find his future business partner and childhood friend, Harry Lime, is dead. After attending Lime's funeral, Cotten notices too many mysterious circumstances surrounding his friend's death. He becomes convinced that a third man was at the site of Lime's demise, a man who holds the key to what Cotten believes was a conspiracy to murder.

 (If you've never actually seen The Third Man, you may not want to read any further. Because what comes next is common knowledge among film freaks, but still, I suspect, maintains a pleasant level of surprise among the uninitiated, and I don't particularly want to be among those who might ruin any potential pleasure this film might have.)

 The film's central plot twist, that Lime (as played by Orson Welles) is indeed alive and well, is revealed in a brilliant manner by director Carol Reed. Cinematographer Robert Krasker deservedly won an Oscar for his work, and the interplay of light and darkness--appearance and reality--proves a delicious visual metaphor which he and Reed lace the film with.

 The film's final chase sequence is one of the most memorable in film history. Welles, soaked in terror and attempting to escape the police in the labyrinthine sewer system which no longer provides him with secrecy, meets his demise. It's a shattering conclusion, one which contemporary filmmakers would do well to study. Armed with a finale which stands in defiance of feel-good sentimentality, The Third Man provides a reminder that even the most certain things--a sure-fire romance, an age-old friendship--are often not quite what they seemed to be. :

 

The Third Man reopens Friday, January 28 at the Cinema du Parc. See repertory listings for showtimes