The Third Man (1949)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

The Third Man (1949) – C. Reed

Carol Reed’s very European masterpiece, filmed in post-war Vienna and focused on black marketeering as its subject, is often thought of almost as an Orson Welles film.  True, Welles does appear, as the mysterious and rascally criminal Harry Lime.  And the film’s lead is taken by his Mercury Theatre colleague Joseph Cotten, as pulp western writer Holly Martins, a childhood friend of Lime’s who knows nothing of his current actions but nevertheless travels from the US to Vienna to meet him.  Welles apparently wrote at least one of his own monologues in the film – the one suggesting that tyranny in Italy led to the Renaissance whereas peace in Switzerland led only to the cuckoo clock. Finally, the film has the stylish look of Welles’ cinema, with dramatically crooked camera angles and beautifully glistening sewers beneath the city.  But in fact, The Third Man must actually be attributed to director Reed and screenwriter Graham Greene (and the teams behind them).  Indeed, Reed was no slouch and made a number of other impressive films (without Welles) around this time (such as Odd Man Out, 1947, and The Fallen Idol, 1948).  The tropes of the film also fall in line with the currently trending film noir genre (to which Welles also contributed), featuring low key and chiaroscuro lighting – but the famous lilting zither music of Anton Karas somehow lightens the tone, even as the characters uncover the darkness that lies in the hearts of Lime and his cronies.  The plot does unfold as a mystery, with Martins arriving in Vienna to find Lime already dead but then, in partnership with Lime’s girlfriend Anna (Alida Valli) and the police (led by Trevor Howard), slowly realising that he may not be (as they ponder the titular third man). You almost think Anna and Holly will fall in love, but a showdown between the moral virtues of justice and loyalty put a damper on that, resulting in one of the most classic slow and bitter endings of all time.

Postscript.  Here is another earlier, briefer, review:

Watching this again (on VHS), it's hard to regain one's first surprise about Harry Lime's fate (and callousness to humankind) but the noir-inflected look of the film remains a draw card (even if Joseph Cotton never really feels in jeopardy as a noir lead should). I did forget how well the film captures the predicament of being unable to speak a country's language (and therefore being dependent on bilinguals for support). Added to this is all the confusion from Post-WWII caretaker government arrangements, which is pretty surreal from the modern vantage point.