THE THIRD MAN (1949) *** Craggy film noire about an American writer of cowboy tales settling into spy saturated Vienna; encountering difficulties with the British, Russians, and women; and, of course, drinking too much. Sir Carol Reed corrects any misperceptions that anyone might have about Vienna not being fertile noire ground-the deserted alleys and mist and subterranean passageways work as well as Paris or New York ever have. Joseph Cotten carries the ball from the start, but it is only when Orson Welles manifests himself, towards the end, that the level of intensity is raised to historic levels. Welles transforms himself from a borderline business oriented soldier of fortune to incarnate evil in a space of about 30 seconds. Absolutely terrifying. How does he do this? By smiling and speaking, on a Ferris wheel. The scene is at least one argument in favor of letting great writers transfer their own work to the screen-Graham Greene knows where the hidden landmines are and how to get the audience close enough as not to know whether we're to be cast upon them or not. Anton Karas' extraordinary zither music has been properly celebrated, but the key is the playfully inappropriate way in which Reed references it. Reed works the line between settling things and persisting that they're unsettled, through angular shots and unexpected sounds, like an absolute master. Geoffrey Keen gives a flawless performance as the prototypically polite British policeman, a man who's intent (rather than motto) is truely to protect and serve.
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