Act of Violence

Whilst not strictly a noir, this excellent and tense movie has many noir moments and all the night location photography has exactly the right look, especially the fantastic railway track side denouement. Never predictable this film takes many turns as the truth of what had happened in the wartime past of the main characters is gradually revealed.

Extremely well paced with intelligent dialogue whilst the leads chase about after and away from each other we are left to assess and re-assess just who the baddie really is. In the end, however, it is the only ending possible. Very rewarding and highly recommended.

Neither Van Heflin or Robert Ryan were ever considered matinée idols or big box office draws. But both men were consummate professionals who could cast well in a variety of roles. I think that Act Of Violence could have worked just as well if they had played each other's parts.

MGM was a studio that did not do noir films very often, but in this case with Fred Zinnemann directing they did this one very well. No cops or private eyes in this one, both men are your average American of 1948. One has done a terrible wrong to the other and the other is seeking revenge.

Heflin is a former pilot who was shot down over Germany during World War II and Ryan was his bombardier. They both did time in a POW camp where Heflin informed on escape plans that Ryan and others made. No one survived but Ryan and he now walks with a limp, courtesy of Nazi machine gunners.

In civilian life Heflin is now a very successful contractor and when he hears Ryan is looking for him, he gets naturally rattled which concerns his wife Janet Leigh. Heflin who was not going to go to a convention in Los Angeles now changes his mind abruptly, but not before explaining to Leigh the reason for his fear. It's more fear of being exposed than for his life.

In Los Angeles Heflin who won his Oscar for Johnny Eager playing an alcoholic borrows a bit from that role as he ends up in a waterfront dive pouring his troubles out to some lowlifes played by Mary Astor, Taylor Holmes, and Berry Kroeger. Holmes is also drawing a bit from a previous role as a shyster lawyer in Kiss Of Death as he's playing the same kind of character in seedier circumstances. In fact Holmes's character says he is an attorney. I know Fred Zinnemann must have seen Kiss Of Death and cast Holmes as a result of that.

The climax might not be what you think, but in a way it's a fitting ending to the story. Though they get good support from the rest of the cast Heflin and Ryan dominate the story though they have no scenes together until the end. Act Of Violence is a noir classic and fans of Heflin and Ryan should list it among their best performances.

What a great "character" shot when crippled Joe (Ryan) tries to cross the parade line, is turned back, only to limp obsessively across a moment later. Makes no difference to him that it's a patriotic parade. He's in his own world of revenge and by golly nothing's going to stop his mission. This one clever scene tells us more about Joe than a hundred lines of expository dialog.

It's aces all around for this front-rank noir. But I especially like the sneaky screenplay. Frank (Heflin) doesn't interrupt patriotic parades; instead, as ex-air force captain, he speaks at them. Plus, he's a friendly guy with a great young wife (Leigh) and toddler kid, a nice suburban home, and a growing business. Yes indeed, Frank is clearly Mr. America returned home successfully from the war. So why does the obsessed Joe want to kill Mr. America. That limp seems to point to a moral defect as well as a physical one, while he's got all the personality of a coiled rattler.

As a result, we have certain expectations about who these two guys are and how they will act as the suspense builds. But surprisingly, as events unfold, the screenplay peels back appearances with enough nuance that we may not be aware of the reversal until the end. And in the process, the movie produces one of the more subtly iconoclastic dramas of the noir period.

The casting here is flawless. It's Ryan at his darkest and most relentless, and Heflin at his plainest and low-key best. But I especially like the three women—Leigh, Thaxter, and Astor. Their parts are easily overlooked amidst the male-driven suspense, but each performs expertly in demanding roles. And unusual for noir, each tries to perform a healing role for her wounded man, though Pat's (Astor) methods are borrowed from the dark side. At the same time, throw in two icons from noir—the slippery Taylor Holmes (the shady lawyer) and the slimy Barry Kroeger (the hit-man), and you've got an all-star cast of characters.

My only reservation is with the last ten minutes. The depot and runaway car sequence was obviously staged to entertain the eye and not necessarily to be believed. I'm all for artistic license and the sequence is beautifully photographed-- it just strikes me as stagier and more artificial than it should be. Nonetheless, this is one of the more surprising and unusual noirs from the classic postwar period, and certainly merits a look-see.

This grim look a couple of demobbed soldiers continuing their private war at home rarely get mentioned in lists of essential noirs; maybe, upon release in 1949, it was just a little too close for comfort -- hinting a truths the victorious American public were unwilling to acknowledge. If so, the film has yet to be rediscovered --or reappraised. Van Heflin is living out the modest American dream in sunny California when into his life strides an old combat buddy, Robert Ryan (at his most menacing, which is nothing to sneeze at). To his wife's (Janet Leigh's) consternation, Heflin takes it on the lam, and slowly we learned what happened, or may have happened, over in a POW camp in the European Theater of War. As Heflin's flight takes him into seedier and more sinister surroundings, he links up with Mary Astor, living on the vague border of prostitution. (After helping to launch the cycle with her spectacular turn as Brigid O'Shaugnessey in The Maltese Falcon, Astor appeared in disappointingly few film noir; her expert performance here makes one wonder why, why, why?) Though the script opts for a strange and bitter "redemptive" ending, the acrid taste of Act of Violence lingers long.

Van Heflin plays a land developer in Los Angeles in the booming years after WW2, whom we see cutting the ribbon on a new sub-division that's opening up. He has a beautiful young wife played by Janet Leigh who adores everything about him and a toddler son as well. When an army buddy played by Robert Ryan unexpectedly shows up, it throws Heflin's little paradise into chaos. His wartime history emerges, presenting a disturbing picture of cowardice and betrayal, things he's kept hidden from everyone, including his wife, but which his own conscience and Ryan as well, won't let him escape. It turns out Ryan's been trailing him from coast to coast. Heflin's disintegration is awesome, one of the finest acting jobs ever. It's all perfectly capped off when he's trying to explain what happened to his unbelieving wife. He winds up on LA's skid row, meeting a party girl who's seen much better days played by Mary Astor, who gets him to confide in her and introduces him to Johnny (Berry Kroeger), someone who can arrange to have all his problems taken care of for a hefty price. The conclusion, a classic western style noir showdown on a breezy night on the railroad tracks, is beautifully done.