The Big Combo

Allied Artists which was Monogram Studios and mostly noted for the Bowery Boys gave us The Big Combo and they put together a stylish cast for this noir thriller. The cast is so good they cover up a lot of holes in the story.

The antagonists in this film are honest police lieutenant Cornel Wilde against ruthless syndicate chief Richard Conte. Wilde is doggedly determined to get Conte who's an article as slick as they come. His persistence reminds me a lot of Columbo without the humor.

Conte took over from a former syndicate chief who took a Johnny Torrio like 'retirement' to Sicily. Or what exactly is the real story there and who's this mysterious Alicia that throws a scare into the normally unflappable Conte?

Wilde also has a personal interest in another way as he's kind of crushing out on Jean Wallace who's Conte's main squeeze. There's a club stripper played by Carolyn Jones who's sweet on Wilde and pays for it with her life.

The Big Combo has made the list for cinema of gay interest because of the roles of Earl Holliman and Lee Van Cleef as a pair of gay trigger men who work for Conte. It's something that during the Fifties only a small studio like Allied Artists would have on screen. Today their relationship is rather obvious.

The parts are much greater than the whole and basically what Conte has done is pull a syndicate coup d'etat. But personally as the story unfolds he did a rather sloppy job in covering it up.

Rounding out the cast is syndicate banker Brian Donlevy and Wilde's police superior Robert Middleton. It's a nice noir thriller, but it should have had a much tighter story.

The storyline centers about a persistent cop(Cornel Wilde)who tracks down a mobster(Richard Conte) and his henchmen (Brian Donlevy,Lee Van Cleef and Earl Holliman). He's helped by the gangster's girlfriend and one deputy(Robert Middleton).

The movie has likeness to noir cinema of the 40s and 50s that played Robert Mitchum, Kirk Douglas and Glenn Ford but here is B series.

In the film there are action, raw drama ,suspense, murders and is very interesting.

Interpretation by Cornel Wilde and Jean Wallace, marriage in real life, is magnificent, the evil racketeer Richard Conte is top notch and his underlings Donlevy, Van Cleef and Holliman are of first rate.

Cinematography by John Alton is extraordinary ,setting of lights and shades depict this type of cinema and Alton and Nicholas Musuraca are the principal photographers.

David Raskin music, being recently deceased, is nice and atmospheric.

The motion picture is well directed by Joseph H. Lewis

Rating : very good, 7,5/10. The flick will appeal to noir cinema fans. Well worth watching.

Here is yet another gem from the forgotten noir vault. Director Joseph Lewis trades in the quasi-cinema verite style of his GUN CRAZY(1950) for strictly in-studio work and still hits the jackpot. Cinematographer John Alton works his customary chiaroscuro artistry on a fairly straightforward tale of one frustrated but determined police detective longing to collar one supremely confident crime boss.

Cornel Wilde plays the cop with stolid righteousness (although the lawman isn't above trysting with a leggy striptease artist). But the filmmakers put the main focus on the calculating yet tortured (and torturing) mobster played by Richard Conte. Conte, spitting out many of his lines with measured bile, is brilliant: a smug, know-it-all killer backed by the ever-ready menace of Lee Van Cleef and the studied goofiness of Earl Holliman. (As written, these two bring a very special dynamic to post-World War II crime melodrama). Brian Donleavy is on hand as a washed up but still scheming mob kingpin. And Jean Wallace plays the high-falutin' moll who yearns to go back to her world of piano recitals and afternoon teas but who just can't get enough of Conte's sinister mojo. This low budget but highly effective noir makes an excellent double feature with another cheap but powerful film of the genre, BEHIND LOCKED DOORS. Both films are highly recommended.

There really should be a deluxe DVD box-set of films with "The Big" in their titles -- preferably "The Big" followed by one more word.

Naturally, you would have to have Howard Hawks' "The Big Sleep" from 1946 and Fritz Lang's "The Big Heat" from 1953.

If I wanted to attract hate mail, I could probably also insist on including two David Nelson circus films, particularly 1959's "The Big Circus," but also the rather overlooked "The Big Show" from 1961.

From 1955 alone you could come up with Robert Aldrich's "The Big Knife" and Joseph H. Lewis' s "The Big Combo."

"The Big Combo" is an unusually good film noir with more of the chiaroscuro lighting effects than you get in some other more famous noir classics and way more than you get in the archetypal David Nelson circus film.

You also get a gay couple -- very unusual for a 1955 Hollywood film! Lee Van Cleef and Earl Holliman play two thugs named Fante and Mingo, who work for bigger thug Richard Conte. Some classic Hollywood films, as reported in Vito Russo's "The Celluloid Closet," have some fairly specific gay content, but some of them only have the reputation and not much content. However, it's really there in "The Big Combo." Lee Van Cleef and Earl Holliman live together, slay together, and apparently love each other. Watch the basement hideout scene near the climax. They caress each other! It's the most believable relationship in a very brutal and fascinating movie.

The Big Combo may be the only film noir ever plugged on the I Love Lucy show (Cornel Wilde guest-starred in the episode which aired April 18, 1955). Coming late in the noir cycle and directed by Joseph Lewis, it seized a position as one of its most innovative and stylish titles. And, with the wizardly John Alton behind the camera, it kicks film noir's distinctive look up into another, rarefied dimension (Alton must have been emulating the Dutch Masters – spare traceries of light limn almost abstract patterns on the screen's primordial blackness).

The story, too, stays a primal one of obsession, lust and revenge. Ninety-six-fifty-a-week cop Wilde lives in a cheap flat across from a burlesque house, one of whose headliners (Helene Stanton) he occasionally `sees.' But his only passion is for nailing suave but savage crime boss Richard Conte. Iin a performance brimming with cool menace, Conte is fond of saying `First is first and second is nobody.' Wilde also harbors half-admitted fantasies of riding to the rescue of Conte's remote and unwilling mistress (Jean Wallace, Wilde's off-screen wife). Conte's so possessive that he assigns an intimate twosome of torpedoes (Lee Van Cleef and Earl Holliman) as her full-time bodyguards (since they're gay, he trusts them to serve as eunuchs). But when they fail to prevent her overdosing on pills, she falls into Wilde's hands at hospital and starts to babble about a woman called Alicia.

Another wild card is Conte's lieutenant Brian Donleavy, over the hill and hard of hearing, who chafes at playing second fiddle; he saw himself as heir to the organization when unseen capo Grazzi `retired' to Sicily. His grudge against his boss makes him reckless, placing the whole `combination,' or combo, in jeopardy. Wilde, meantime, has tracked down elusive Alicia, Conte's supposedly murdered wife (Helen Walker, the duplicitous psychiatrist in Nightmare Alley, in her last screen appearance); only she knows where the bodies are buried and can write her husband's death warrant....

The Big Combo counts as one of the more sadistic instalments in the cycle, but the mayhem and executions are played as big set-pieces, as flourishes; Lewis draws on Alton's full fetch of tricks (and in one memorable instance, on the sound editor's) to highlight but at the same time soften their nastiness. There's a streak of sadism in the casting, too: Both Wallace's attempted suicide and Walker's dissipation bring to mind the actresses' private troubles. Innovative and striking, The Big Combo comes as close as any film in the noir cycle to being an art-house triumph; it consolidates Lewis' reputation as an erratic director who was nonetheless capable – here, and with his Gun Crazy – of pulling off something unexpected yet extraordinary.