The first half is noir. Ryan is an embittered cop with violent tendencies, even exceeding those of his comrades. A bit too much of the old ultra violence and he's sent "upstate to Siberia" for a rest, seconded to a rural sheriff trying to find a young murderer. The second half stands in stark contrast to the first. In the course of the chase across snow mountains he meets and falls for Ida Lupino, the blind sister of the perp.
It's not really a crime story but a story about character development, mainly Robert Ryan's. There's little violence in it. But there is a great deal of sadness -- well, loneliness, really, and effectively conveyed by Nick Ray. The man who trusts nobody meets the woman who has to trust everybody. He comes back to her at the end, one of the few good ideas he's had. He's going to turn from the beady eyed monster of the city's streets (all shot at night) into a human being caring for another human being, breathing fresh mountain air. It's going to be difficult but it will work out okay.
Bernard Hermann's score, like the movie, is bifurcated. The chase scenes give us a melody and rhythm that he would recycle and use in several science fiction movies and in "North By Northwest." But he lavishes his considerable talents on a simple yet beautiful theme associated with Ida Lupino. (We first hear it when Ryan and Ward Bond break in on her and she sits in a chair.) The lead instrument is a viola da gamba played by Virginia Majewski. The viola is a strange instrument, like an overgrown mutated violin played under the chin. It doesn't have the sparkle of the violin. Nobody's going to play "The Flight of the Bumblebee" on it. But it's tone is dark and rich, like Lupino's character, like the relationship between her and Ryan.
What a neat simple black and white movie. It doesn't shred your mind. It moves along and asks you to move with it, the way Ryan treats Lupino. Very humanistic, very appealing.
The underaged blond in the bar towards the beginning is Nita Talbot. Yum.
It's not really a crime story but a story about character development, mainly Robert Ryan's. There's little violence in it. But there is a great deal of sadness -- well, loneliness, really, and effectively conveyed by Nick Ray. The man who trusts nobody meets the woman who has to trust everybody. He comes back to her at the end, one of the few good ideas he's had. He's going to turn from the beady eyed monster of the city's streets (all shot at night) into a human being caring for another human being, breathing fresh mountain air. It's going to be difficult but it will work out okay.
Bernard Hermann's score, like the movie, is bifurcated. The chase scenes give us a melody and rhythm that he would recycle and use in several science fiction movies and in "North By Northwest." But he lavishes his considerable talents on a simple yet beautiful theme associated with Ida Lupino. (We first hear it when Ryan and Ward Bond break in on her and she sits in a chair.) The lead instrument is a viola da gamba played by Virginia Majewski. The viola is a strange instrument, like an overgrown mutated violin played under the chin. It doesn't have the sparkle of the violin. Nobody's going to play "The Flight of the Bumblebee" on it. But it's tone is dark and rich, like Lupino's character, like the relationship between her and Ryan.
What a neat simple black and white movie. It doesn't shred your mind. It moves along and asks you to move with it, the way Ryan treats Lupino. Very humanistic, very appealing.
The underaged blond in the bar towards the beginning is Nita Talbot. Yum.