Il mostro è dietro l'angolo

Coming from small Allied Artists studio Face Of Fire might have easily been overlooked in 1959 the year of Ben-Hur. Yet this film opened to a lot of critical acclaim for James Whitmore in his portrayal of the badly burned man who is shunned by the small town and all the people who took to his genial personality.

Making it all the worse is that Whitmore was burned performing a heroic act rescuing young Miko Oscard from a fire in his doctor/father's laboratory. The man's face was burned and badly disfigured. Although we never quite see Whitmore what indications we do have tell how serious his injuries were.

Cameron Mitchell and Bettye Ackerman play Oscard's parents. They don't shun Whitmore, in fact Mitchell feels a responsibility to help him all he can.

And Whitmore becomes a fugitive from all who liked him before by simply leaving the place he'd been hidden away and going out among people. He never does anything, but they're all frightened of "The Monster".

Better known of course for The Red Badge Of Courage, Stephen Crane wrote this searing indictment of the American small town of what was called "The Gay Nineties". Nothing remotely gay about this small town in any sense of the word.

This little known film at the time is a real sleeper and several familiar character players are in the cast. But above all watch what Whitmore does with his performance.

And this review is dedicated to a kid I knew decades ago named Tom Lubart who went to school with me scarred as he was when a pot boiling spaghetti sauce fell on him as a toddler. I hope you're happy Tom wherever you are.

Having been stung by a few efforts of my own, it is rare outside of educational or PBS to see a film faithful to its literary source like Face of Fire, based on Stephen Crane's story, The Monster. Albert Band's direction sets the atmosphere of small town 1890's America down to the last detail. James Whitmore plays Monk, a hired hand who burns his face rescuing the doctor's son from a horrendous fire. No cures of the time can restore his face so his sweetheart and the townspeople who once admired him soon turn into a lynch mob when women and children frightened by seeing him step in front of a wagon and get run over. Monk was a Negro in Crane's story, though, the only detail which might have elevated the film to a racial allegory. The boy's transformation from fear and ignorance back to his kindness and friendship for Monk are a heart string-tugging depiction indeed with photography comparable to Orson Welles' Magnificent Ambersons or Igmar Bergman movies. Filmed in Sweden with excellent music from Erik Nordstrom.

Though the film would have been even more profound had they used the African-American version of Monk (as in the Stephen Crane short story, "The Monster"), Whitmore proves himself among the most neglected character actors in film history as the hideously scarred handyman. Band's direction is poignant -- as is the heartbreaking image of Monk, in his straw boater with black veil attached, showing up for a "date" with his freaked out girlfriend. Along with "Battleground" and "Them!" this is among Whitmore's most memorable work.

Over the past three decades, numerous quirky little movies that were personal favorites of mine have moved out of the realm of near-unknowns and entered into the public domain of enlarged popularity with a growing number of cinema students and film buffs. Although I'm a bit embarrassed to admit it, I feel a slight pang of grief whenever the "secret" gets out about one of these movies, because they had previously "belonged" to only a select few of us. Some hard-core movie lovers do suffer at times from a little elitism or possessive snobbery...

Some of these movies that are now more widely appreciated were always great films with a strong cult following--Carl Dreyer's 1928 silent "La Passion de Jeanne d'Arc," for instance, or Andrei Tarkovsky's "Stalker." Many others were B-movies made with minuscule budgets and ridiculously short shooting schedules, such as Edgar G. Ulmer's 4-day noir classic "Detour," or the creepy horror of "Carnival of Souls," shot near Lawrence, Kansas.

"Face of Fire" falls into the latter category and remains firmly embedded in my shrinking list of almost-unknown faves. I saw it only once on TV almost 40 years ago, but somehow it has fallen through the cracks, rarely if ever broadcast and still not available on VHS or DVD.

This very brief (79 min.) slice of rural Americana, based on a Stephen Crane short story-- with its disturbing trajectory and sad revelations about human nature, yet still uplifting in its final outlook--was shot in Sweden with an ensemble cast of stalwart and steadily-working American character actors, many of whom were instantly recognizable from 1950s television and movies.

My memory of the movie is sketchy at best (I was 15 when I saw it), and I wouldn't then have put it in the pantheon of great films, but it nonetheless affected me deeply with its insights into unconscious, small-minded human cruelty and the compensations that may be granted to a still-gentle soul. The final scene looking down a country road was evocative of a mythic America that has largely vanished, and that particular shot has stayed with me for four decades.

"Face of Fire" is very much worth seeing, should you have the chance.

One of the most disturbing movies ever made. James Whitmore plays a popular, good-looking, engaged, and successful man. He then bravely rescues a friends young son one night during a fire, but is knocked unconscious and has burning liquid pour all over his face turning him into a hideously deformed "monster". It turns out he has brain damage causing him to later act eccentric and illogically - such as paying a surprise visit to his now former fiance, as though nothing had changed, which was an especially disturbing scene. The reactions of all, including the rescued child, to him is the theme of the movie. Worth seeing, but not on video as of yet.