The Third Man

Even today in Vienna, one can take the "Third Man Tour" (Der Dritte Man) except, of course, that Orson Welles wouldn't go into the Viennese sewers and those scenes were done in England. There were actual sewer scenes with a double. Never mind, it is still a magnificent black and white film 99% filmed in Vienna. Directed by Carol Reed, it stars Joseph Cotten, Orson Welles, and Alida Valli.

Western novelist Holly Martins (Cotten) comes to Vienna at the behest of his old friend Harry Lime, but when he arrives, he learns that Lime is dead after being hit by a car. He investigates and finds the circumstances very strange indeed, especially when learning there was a third man that helped carry Harry's body to the sidewalk, a man who has since disappeared.

He then meets Harry's girlfriend (Alida Valli). And he also meets a police officer in the British section of Vienna, Inspector Calloway (Trevor Howard), who tells him that Harry was a murderer and a racketeer, and it's better that he's dead. Holly is shocked and demands proof.

One of the most atmospheric films ever made, with its zither music, cinematography, and Vienna at nighttime. Then there's some brilliant dialogue, particularly the "cuckoo clock" speech made by Orson Welles.

The cinematography is particularly striking: odd angles, back lighting, and shadows on empty streets. And who can forget the man hidden in the doorway, when the light from an apartment goes on and shows his face - certainly one of the great appearances of a star in a film.

One feels Lime's presence throughout the film, though he only has five minutes of screen time.

Though none of these actors were the first choice to play their roles, they are all excellent.

There was a Third Man TV series in 1959 that ran for six years and starred Michael Rennie as Lime. In the series, Lime is a hero.

He's no hero in the movie, but it is a powerful story and film, never forgotten once seen.

Although I am as old as this movie, produced in 1949, I have not aged nearly as well. This film, directed brilliantly by Carol Reed ("Odd Man Out", "The Fallen Idol") and written by Graham Greene, who created a long list of memorable cinematic scripts, ingeniously captures the prevailing atmosphere of disruption and chaos that Vienna, a once highly civilized city, experienced during the years that followed World War II. The upheaval is physical, social, economic, political, moral, spiritual. You name it. Vanquished Vienna, conquered by the Allies, was crippled by turmoil in every imaginable way, and we viewers are given the opportunity to experience it up close, right here.

I spent a number of months in Europe after I graduated from college in 1971. Although the war had been over for more than 25 years by then, I was struck by a very pronounced attitude of cynicism on the part of many Europeans regarding uniquely American ideals and principles, which were widely considered to be naive. To me, this film accurately captures this cultural and moral conflict, which lasted for decades and may even survive to this day. "You and your American principles," they would often scoff at me with mocking derision. In many ways, the character of Holly Martins (Joseph Cotten), an American who crashes into post-World War II Europe, is a victim of a serious cultural divide. Unlike the Europeans, Martins always has the option of fleeing from the chaos and returning to the United States. For that alone, he may be resented by the local Viennese.

What does Anna (Alida Valli) know about the illegal activities of her lover, Harry Lime (Orson Welles), which includes the sale of diluted penicillin to Vienna's hospitals? For children with meningitis, watered down penicillin was not only useless, but it created an immunity from full strength penicillin so that these afflicted children could never receive effective treatment. Corrupted penicillin is a glaring symbol of a totally corrupted Vienna. Harry surely understands the consequences of his business, but what about Anna? Even after the truth about Harry's conduct is clearly revealed to her, she still sticks by him to the bitter end. Love conquers all? Stand by your man, regardless of the misery that he is causing to his innocent victims? While I don't blame her for rejecting the romantic overtures of Martins, who is somewhat of a schnook, what's with her anyway? She reminds me of the Europeans who never once caught a whiff of the burning flesh from the overworked crematoria of the concentration camps that blackened the air all around them. She is deeply in love with Harry, so just shut up about children with meningitis. OK, Anna, whatever you say, sweetheart. Perhaps those silly 18th century costume comedies in which you appear will provide the escape from reality that you so desperately seek. At least you manage to crack a weak, forced smile on stage, which is the only smile that we will ever see from you.

From beginning to end, the unusual camera angles, the dark, somber, haunting sidewalks of Vienna, and the conquered city's eerie, drenched cobblestone streets contribute to the overall foreboding atmosphere of the film, which was remarkably photographed by Australian Robert Krasker ("Odd Man Out", "Brief Encounter"). From every direction and without advance notice, unforgettable images and characters appear before us, emphasizing an overall mood of mayhem and unpredictability. We witness, for example, Anna's landlady, draped in a bedspread for warmth in a state of deep distress by the sudden invasion of her house by "officials" representing not one foreign nation but four of them. Then we observe a ludicrous, bureaucratic "cultural re-education conference" offered to the Viennese by the allied victors, presumably to rehabilitate them after seven years of Nazi domination. And from where on earth did the balloon seller come as he pathetically peddles his merry merchandise on the dark, abandoned streets of Vienna, which are not only completely void of children at the time but of all people?

And what of the inquisitive, confused character of Holly Martins, played with the usual, smooth agility of Joseph Cotten? As the writer of mass marketed western novels that even a young British sergeant happens to read, why is he broke, and what kind of job would Lime have offered him in an unfamiliar, German-speaking Vienna that is gripped by post-war disorder, unemployment, and foreign occupation? Construction work, perhaps?

While some reviewers disliked the zither music of Anton Karas, I think that the unique, high pitched sound contributes to the general atmosphere of nervous tension and uneasiness that prevails. Would you prefer Strauss waltzes instead? They wouldn't be nearly as effective in conveying the overwhelming atmosphere of chaos, even insanity, that plagues Vienna on so many levels at the time.

Finally, we are brought to the hidden network of grand Vienna's underground sewers. What could be a more fitting symbol of the underlying foulness that lurks beneath the thin, shallow surface of what we call "civilization"? This subterranean labyrinth provides the perfect setting for the ending of an extraordinary film that very effectively portrays a world that has succumbed to a state of disorder, misery, and even madness. Ultimately, it is all destined for the sewer. Bal-loon?

Holly Martins has just arrived in Vienna, but he's found himself with a small dilemma, his mate Harry has just died, with a car he did collide, although the circumstance is causing him some bother. As he peels back several lids of several cans, it transpires Harry was a wanted man, had his fingers in some pies, to do with medical supplies, the authorities were not his biggest fan.

Dark and deceptive goings on, above and below the streets of Vienna post WWII, with some outstanding and perpetually incredible performances against a background of shadows, shifting perspectives and immoral behaviour.

The Third Man is a movie that looks and feels not like a movie of the 40s, but like a neo-noir of the late 60s/early 70s. This wonderful example of classic noir is one of the all time greatest films. It combines amazing visuals, sounds, dialogue, and acting to tell a thrilling story and comment about the atmosphere after WWII.

Of all the movies durring the studio era (pre-1960ish), there are three movies with cinematography that always stick out in my mind: Gregg Toland's work in Citizen Kane, Russel Mety's work in Touch of Evil, and Robert Krasker's work in The Third Man (all starring Orson Welles funny enough). I just recently saw a restored 35mm version of The Third Man. The crisp black and white visuals of a bombed out Vienna are so breath-taking. Shadows are everywhere. The unique way Krasker tilts the camera in some shots adding to the disorientation of the plot. And who can forget the first close-up of Welles with the light from an apartment room above splashing onto his face; one of the great entrances in movie history (Lime gives his old friend a smile that only Welles could give).

The cinematography is backed by strong performances by Welles, Cotten, and italian actress Vali. The writing of Greene is wonderful; you can see the plot twisting around Cotten tightly. But what makes The Third Man so great is its historical commentary (well not really historical since it was commenting on its own time, but to us it is historical). On one level The Third Man is a story of betrayal and corruption in a post-war, occupied Vienna. On the other hand, its giving the audience a glimpse of the mood of Europe after the great war. The uncertainty that the Cold War was bringing is evident through out the film; Cotten is constantly trying to figure out who to trust. Vienna is on the frontier of the new communist bloc (we even see the communists infiltrating Vienna trying to bring Vali back to her native Czechoslavakia). The zither music score combined with the stark images of bombed out Vienna are reminiscent of the frontier towns of American Westerns. So The Third Man is not only a wonderful film noir, but a unique look at the brief time between WWII and the height of the Cold War.

What IS it makes THE THIRD MAN the classic most everyone agrees it is? (And lets face it, voted no 35 in the top all-time films gives it MORE than just some passing credibility!) Is it Orson Welles' menace? The whiff of corruption in occupied post-war Vienna? the cuckoo-clock speech atop the big wheel? even Anton Karras' zither? Perhaps ALL these things? If however, you had to nominate just a single influence within the whole production that elevates it to greatness I suggest that would be Robert Krasker's cinematography.

The finished product innovatively, was years ahead of its birthright. Time and time again the viewer is bailed up by stunning camera angles and back-lighting. The eerie shadows around the deserted streets and of course the unforgettable first glimpse of Harry Lime (Welles) himself as he skulks like the rat he is, in the corner of the building, lit in close-up suddenly from the light in an adjacent apartment. Offhand I cannot think of a character's more dramatic entrance to a film.

Welles in fact has minimal screen time, though his dark presence and influence infiltrate proceedings like an insidious disease. Yet somehow his ultimate demise in the sewers brings into play an incredible sadness and compassion that has absolutely no right being there. It remains for me one of my top five film favorites. I have always given it a "10" personally but hey, to be voted an "8.6" universally is a pretty fair vindication of my words here.