Every film geek I’ve ever known loves Orson Welles, which has actually put me off seeing his movies until recently. “Oh, you’ve got to see what he’s doing with the lenses in Citizen Kane,” they say. “Did you see that scene on the ferris wheel in the The Third Man?”
Well, yes and no. I prefer to watch movies for entertainment first, and sadly, Welles comes with such a load of cinematic baggage that it’s almost impossible to enjoy him without being distracted by where he fits into the canon of 20th century movie-making: At the top. Which is clearly where the producers of this 50th anniversary edition of Welles’ last film made in the US also think he deserves to be…releasing the DVD of Touch of Evil in three versions, to showcase Welles’ directing prowess.
First, there’s the 1957 “preview” version of the film, cut together by Universal before Welles saw it. On seeing it, Welles fired off a now famous 58-page memo back to the studio, demanding that certain changes be made before the film’s release. Included, too, is the “theatrical release” version, which takes some of Welles’ demands into account. Then, there’s the restored version cut faithfully to Welles’ artistic vision in 1998.
For those film geeks among you, the box set, which is released today at $27, includes for the first time a copy of Welles’ memo, presented on 5×7″ notepaper in an evocative manila envelope. I enjoyed opening it, imagining I was a Universal studio exec with the power to ignore Welles. But I’ve got to admit, going through all three versions of the movie to determine where the changes had been made and what effect they’d had, was beyond me. On the other hand, as a sheer entertainment enthusiast, I was kicking myself for not having watched this movie earlier. Because it’s full to the brim with treats of the non-geeky kind.
The plot of the film was among the most complex and sensational released by a major studio in the 1950s. Charlton Heston, playing a Mexican detective in brown face (there’s a hilarious cultural revisionist scene in the making-of documentary where he says he wore just the “barest tint of brown” in his makeup…), is newly married to Janet Leigh, who gets kidnapped and gang-raped by a Mexican gang under the control of Grande (Akim Tamiroff), in revenge for Heston’s character’s prosecution of Grande’s brother. Complicated enough? Well, it turns out that Welles is also involved. At 47, he wore padding and makeup to play alcoholic police captain Hank Quinlan. He’s a man with “no future,” if you believe Marlene Dietrich, who incongruously crops up as a cross between a madam and a fortune teller:
Heston’s character, Mike Vargas, realizes Quinlan has been fabricating cases against suspects for years. Quinlan, who prizes his intuition and “game leg” over more traditional police work such as the production of evidence, may or may not be getting the right men all along. The point is, he doesn’t need no upstart almost-Mexican rich boy messing with his reputation, and he gets involved in a plot with Grande to discredit Vargas.
Welles as Hank Quinlan…
Welles’ performance is mighty, yet humane and forgiving of his character’s worst flaws. You actually feel sympathy and understanding for the guy in the midst of his worst moment. A pre-cursor to Tony Soprano, maybe.
Meanwhile Heston is upstanding, forthright and convincing as he could be playing a Mexican detective. Janet Leigh’s performance as a diamond-cut WASP in peril couldn’t be more spot-on. The gang rape scene is all the more menacing because it cuts off on her expression as the door’s closing, rather than going half way (if you know what I mean). It must have been a brave role to take in those days, and Leigh plays it with commitment.
Technically, the film features a three and a half-minute opening shot, which you can’t help but be struck by:
And there are also some brave experiments with hand-held cameras, new ways of recording sound, and the first scene ever to be shot in an actual moving car. But wait…I’m getting into the geekery!
More than being a technical feat and a 20th century acting showcase, Touch of Evil is a testament to how far ahead of his time Orson Welles was. The guy wanted to make a film about police corruption, alcohol and drug addiction and racial intrigue, featuring a gang-rape scene with a menacing lesbian (just watch it…I can’t bring myself to spoil that particular surprise for you), in 1957. No wonder Senator McCarthy accused him of being a Communist! The guy was a threat to decent society! And worse still, he was clever. He was accomplished. What were we going to do with him?
Somewhat disjointed because of the racy plot, the whole movie creaks with the frustrated greatness of its best-known actor and director…Welles wanted to explore these issues, but he wasn’t going to be allowed to. He was blacklisted from the major studios for trying, and would go on to a second career in Europe and elsewhere, ending in frustrated alcoholism. I can heartily recommend David Thomson’s 1996 biography Rosebud: The Story of Orson Welles for those who are interested in this side of Welles. But you get a good sense of where he would have gone if the studios hadn’t intervened, when you watch this movie. It’s such a glittering shame.
The best anecdote in the documentary about the making of the film is related by Heston, who obviously was content to stick it out with the studios for the rest of his career, about the more talented Welles. Welles had thrown a party for his old Hollywood friends at his house there, 10 years since having last worked in the industry. He showed up from the set in his makeup and padding, dressed like the down-and-out Quinlan, and his friends all told him how great he looked. How he “hadn’t changed a bit.” I wonder: What’s that going to do to a man, in the end? Sadly, it’s probably going to do this:
Well. The movie never really makes it out from the shadow of its giant star, but Welles aside, even for those in need, simply, of a good evening’s entertainment, I can recommend Touch of Evil for a long fall evening when you’re in the mood to contemplate death and failure, without necessarily needing to be cheered up. I’m not sure that for many people that’s really going to count as a recommendation at all, although trust me, sincerely, it is one. Just ask Orson Welles.