Joseph H. Lewis was a prolific director of B movies and episodic television, but his latter-day claim to fame is a virtuosic film noir, Gun Crazy (1950). When I first saw that film it knocked me out and led me to seek out his second-best-known noir, The Big Combo (1955) which I’ve always thought of as The Big Disappointment. But the lavish treatment it has received in this new Blu-ray release has caused me to have second thoughts.
There are no fewer than three audio commentary tracks, by the estimable Imogen Sara Smith and Philippe Garnier, which I would classify as admirably interpretive. The third is conversational and highly informative, which is what we’ve come to expect from the Czar of Noir, Eddie Muller. He communicates a wealth of knowledge about the people who made this low-budget thriller—on-camera and off—without ever sounding pedantic or losing the through-line of the picture. That means there is both praise and career context for everyone from credit-crazy screenwriter Philip Yordan to composer David Raksin.
But the undisputed hero of this feature is cinematographer John Alton, who was painting with light (his term) long before fellow lenser Gordon Willis earned the nickname “the Prince of Darkness.” This beautiful black & white restoration enables us to fully appreciate what he was able to achieve even on a tight deadline and tighter budget.
Cornel Wilde plays a big-city cop who nurses an unhealthy obsession with gangster’s moll Jean Wallace (his wife in real life) and is determined to bring down her powerful protector, nicely underplayed by Richard Conte. There are no weak links in the cast, which includes Brian Donlevy, Robert Middleton, Lee van Cleef, Earl Holliman, Jay Adler, Ted De Corsia, and Helen Walker.
If you’re hungry for more, there’s a video essay and a booklet with five more thought-provoking dissertations about The Big Combo. And just for kicks, a bonus disc offers a second feature, The Crooked Way (1949), directed by Robert Florey and starring John Payne, Ellen Drew and Sonny Tufts (!) Producer Benedict Bogeaus probably thought he made a coup casting the all-American Tufts as a bad guy but the part is strictly two-dimensional and so is his performance. It was worth watching just to hear my wife exclaim, “John Alton!” at the sight of a completely silhouetted John Payne. Handsomely packaged, with five newly created miniature lobby cards, The Big Combo makes a good argument for keeping physical media alive.
I doubt that any film buff scanning the credits of this obscure 1932 Universal Picture would be able to resist giving it a try. What’s more, it packs a lot into a mere 58 minutes. Released just months after Boris Karloff played the Frankenstein monster for director James Whale, the British actor still seems miscast as the proprietor of a New York speakeasy/nightclub called Happy’s Place. Just where this snappy, saucy pre-Code picture fits in the continuum of Karloff’s career is one of many topics well covered by Jeremy Arnold in his savvy commentary track. I learned things I didn’t know about costars Lew Ayres, the underrated Mae Clarke, Clarence Muse and other cast members. (An alternate commentary by Tim Lucas and Joe Busam points out that the opening Times Square montage makes use of a scale model of midtown Manhattan that was crafted for Universal’s budget-busting 1929 feature Broadway.) This mélange of melodrama, music, sex and sin even makes time for a chorus-girl production number choreographed by Busby Berkeley! That’s a lot of entertainment for your movie dollar—then or now. The new Kino Lorber release is flawless, from the opening biplane to the reminder that A Good Cast is Worth Repeating.
