Critics are correct: Knock on Any Door is flawed, perhaps badly flawed. However, it's also an interesting film from a number of standpoints, with several important compensations critics tend to overlook. I think it's worth examining some of each since the film does feature the legendary Bogart and perhaps the fastest rising young director of the time, Nicholas Ray. So why then are the results as mixed as I think they are. Here are a few conjectures.
A central weakness lies in the casting. Taking on the lawyer's role meant that Bogart's star power would require an expanded role for the attorney. That's unfortunate because the lawyer's part is both marginal to the plot and strictly one dimensional -- that of a "tough love" social reformer. Small wonder Bogart fans generally dislike the movie-- he gets a long emotional speech but no real chance at the darkly ambiguous character that was his specialty. The fact is that the part could have been filled by any number of lesser actors without loss to the movie as a whole
The real star part, of course, is John Derek's hard-luck Nick Romano. It's a complex role that would tax even the best young actor. Unfortunately, Derek lacks both the intensity and emotional depth central to the character's predicament. He's appropriately brash and arrogant, but lacks the the tragic dimension of sensitivity. It's too bad his career began with such a demanding role. The woeful tantrum scene at the lakeside cabin may be an extreme example, still it does illustrate the problem. The prospect of Brando doing the part is a fascinating one, but one that regrettably fell through.
Too bad also that the courtroom scenes are prolonged (probably to accommodate Bogart's starring role), since they amount to another key flaw. They're stagey, uninspired, and clash with the expressively noirish atmosphere of the slums. It's like two contrasting halves glued together in hopes that they will complement rather than clash. But conflict they do, because the slum scenes bring out the expressive artistry of director Ray, while the high-key lighting and prolonged dialog of the court resemble the boilerplate of the old Perry Mason show. I expect Ray did these scenes on auto-pilot..
And, of course, there's the final courtroom plea that should have been sent back for re- write. Critics are correct-- it's ham-handed to say the least. There have to be subtler, more effective methods of influencing the audience without hammering them in the process. The fact that the plea comes at movie's end leaves a bad last impression, which is why I believe so many of the positive elements tend to get over-looked.
But those positive elements are indeed present. Note the electrifying opening, of cops plowing wildly through crowds of seedy bystanders That's pure Nick Ray. The crowds even look fairly authentic by 40's standards. They're also atmospheric and colorful. Note some of the distinctive characters-- the shuffling cadaver named "Junior", or the slippery "Kid Fingers", or the black man acting in a rare uncaricatured fashion. Note also some of the subtler miscellaneous touches, such as the flame that flares up from the restaurant tray the moment Derek pledges to reform-- an ominous portent; or the ugly hot water tank that dominates the visuals of the young couple's cold-water flat where Emma finds a home but Nick only finds desolation.
There's also the film's central irony-- that the shrill, cruel-faced DA (George Mc Ready, with an enhanced scar) in fact wins the courtroom battle and Bogart loses. It passes by quickly, giving the DA no time to exult or the audience to react. But the fact is that attorney Morton (Bogart), who we've rooted for, has succumbed to systematic self-deception by seeing a version of his former self in the devious young Romano. This twist is jarring, because it abruptly overturns both movie convention and audience expectations.
Where the movie really works-- as one reviewer sagely points out-- is as a love story between Emma and Nick. That's not surprising since no one was better at bringing out the touching side of romantic love than Ray ("They Live by Night" {1947} or "Rebel Without a Cause" {1955}). He was especially effective with actresses. Here Allene Robert's Emma transforms poignantly from vulnerable neighborhood waif into glowing young wife. She's really the one who's tragically trapped by poverty and circumstance. (Note the poignantly cheap ribbons in her hair as she lovingly prepares a dinner for Nick that he will never eat.) Too bad that this, the most effective phase of the film, is too often overlooked.
Likely, the 90 minutes didn't help anyone's career, except maybe Roberts'. At least, Bogart and Ray were able to recover the following year with the artistically complete "In a Lonely Place" (1950), while Derek found a comfortable niche adorning a number of forgettable costume dramas.
Nonetheless, there's something haunting for me about this movie. Perhaps it's the spectacle of social conscience gone awry. More likely, it's the lingering image of Emma, alone in that ugly flat, the ribbons in her hair. Her modest little dreams now dashed beyond repair. I really wish the movie had succeeded.
