The Third Man is remembered as an Orson Welles movie. But not only was Welles not the director, but his role amounts to little more than a glorified cameo. Yet the movie revolves around the complications and moral character of his Harry Lime, the enigmatic figure at the heart of the mystery of Carol Reed’s classic film noir. And it is a damn good film noir and thrilling mystery at that. Penned by the great Graham Greene and shot in a highly stylized way, it may be more important for its dim atmosphere and unusual politics of post-World War II Vienna, as well as the pessimistic view of human nature embodied by Lime.
The plot actually focuses on Holly Martens (Joseph Cotten), an American pulp Western novelist who’s fallen on hard times, visiting Vienna to meet his old friend Lime (Orson Welles) -only to learn upon arrival that Lime has been recently killed in a car accident. After hearing from British Major Calloway (Trevor Howard) that Lime was a racketeer, a disbelieving Martens becomes determined to clear his friends’ reputation. But he comes upon inconsistencies in his investigation; hearing from two friends of Limes’ that they witnessed the accident and his final words, while another account ascertains that he’d been dead upon collision and that an unknown third man attended to the body. While trying to decipher these clues and the possibility of a murder with Lime’s girlfriend Anna (Alida Valli), Martens is forced to confront that his friend may not have been the man he knew.
The unique political situation of Vienna in the years after the Second World War, where it was divided into occupational zones governed by the British, French, Americans, and Russians, and the seedy criminal underground this creates full of diverse, treacherous characters interacting with each other reminds me a lot of the world of Casablanca. Baron Kurtz even has some of that same sense of falseness to him as Ugarte. But The Third Man hones in on the after-effects of war: the poor fortunes people are living in, the desperation and distrust, the metaphorical imprisonment for people confined to individual sectors, and the rubble everywhere as a symbol of a broken city. It vividly illustrates a city racked by uncertainty and one of the most vulnerable places for the likes of Harry Lime to thrive in. But the movie wouldn’t accomplish this much at all without its unique visual and presentational style.
The buildings loom tall and cast shadows over everything, but the lighting contrasts them wonderfully, giving off an eerie vibe. There’s very much an Expressionist influence on display, with many of the night shots looking like something out of M, or even The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari. The film further discombobulates by Reed’s constant use of Dutch angles to convey discomfort and also subtle suspense. This is never put to better use than in the best scene, where Martens and Lime are conversing in a Ferris wheel car with the door open, and the camera angles suggest the possibility of one falling out at any moment. The look of The Third Man is also unique for its unusually frequent, sometimes frantic editing, which especially heightens the pace of the final sewer chase scene. Elsewhere in the movie, its purpose too is to disorient, and to give a sense of urgency to the mystery.
Holly Martens is an often overlooked if modestly conventional lead character. Joseph Cotten’s performance is really the main element to making him compelling. Cotton may forever be remembered as Orson Welles’ second fiddle in Citizen Kane (and well, this) despite being the lead of both The Magnificent Ambersons and Journey into Fear, but he was quite a talented actor in his own right. And in this movie, his charisma shines through a depressing veneer. Martens’ quest to restore his friends’ reputation is very noble and you sympathize with him entirely in his dismal fortunes and flailing career as a novelist. But his sense of right and intuitiveness is strong, as demonstrated by his acknowledgement of Lime’s true character once the evidence is revealed to him. And I do think one of the films’ weaknesses is we never see him learn first-hand the facts from Calloway -rather the movie intentionally skips over that part. And it’s a shame, being a major point for his character.
The supporting cast are all terrific, starting with one of the most British actors of the twentieth century, Trevor Howard. He has great, very funny rapports with both Cotten and future Bond movie M, Bernard Lee. But Howard also has a commanding presence as the sharp RMP officer, who’s plenty resourceful and smart in a tight situation. He reminds me an awful lot of Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart from Doctor Who. Anna is a really fascinating character too, nurturing an affection for Lime despite everything, and being incredibly loyal to him. Yet Valli also plays her with an ambiguity as to her potential as a romantic partner for Martens, who’s clearly taken with her. Though not as dynamic, she like Phyllis Dietrichson of Double Indemnity, is both innocent love interest and femme fatale. Ernst Deutsch and Siegfried Breuer are great as Lime’s buddies clearly hiding something, Paul Horbiger is perfectly fearful, and Erich Ponto is very sinister. Even Colonel Pickering from My Fair Lady is in this movie!
But of course the movies’ scene stealer is Orson Welles, who for his relatively small role, completely eclipses all other performers. The character is written stupendously too, but it can’t be understated how much charismatic presence Welles exudes, and even a bit of terror given this villains’ actions. Lime is one of the great early screen sociopaths, calm and calculating, but utterly amoral. He demonstrates this in his superbly delivered little speech to Martens about the “dots” -people in the fairground below them, proving he’s an absolute objectivist, with no compassion or ability to see people as anything more than resources for him to exploit -which he does by selling them diluted penicillin (much in demand) stolen from military hospitals. At the same time as he’s this horrifying figure, backing up his actions and outlook with horrifying justifications (his famous “cukoo clock” monologue, improvised by Welles, is factually inaccurate -which terrifically works in the characters’ favour by showing how uninformed his logic is), Lime is also a cheesy pulp villain. He hides out in the sewers beneath Vienna, knows the network well, and even has a secret entrance like any Bond villain would. Through Lime the movie also explores how a person can be changed, especially by something like war. Martens hadn’t seen Lime since before the war, and then he seemed to be a perfectly decent guy from how Martens talks about him. The insinuation is Lime has become harsh, cynical, and uncaring due to what he’s experienced either as a soldier or just in the chaotic environment of wartime and post-war Vienna. One of the films’ central themes is how a persons’ character can change or be changed by circumstances, and it’s a little bitter in this. By the end there’s no doubt Harry Lime was a bad person, a far cry from Martens’ old friend. And Welles plays him brilliantly from his very first awesome reveal.
But now I have to address the one critically acclaimed component of this film I have to disagree with, my controversial opinion about The Third Man: I don’t like the music. Cited by such luminaries as Roger Ebert as the most complimentary music to set action to, it’s one of the movies’ most enduring features. Certainly I will say that Anton Karras’ zither soundtrack is unique, and in some scenes it does work really well, having a soothing, lyrical, upbeat quality to it. But here’s the thing, I don’t think the tone of The Third Man should be upbeat. This is a dark, moody story with dark, moody characters and a really engaging mystery and I think the music should be reflective of that. Even Bernard Herrmann’s score for North By Northwest, frantic and loud though it was, rose and built with the tension of a scene. Here there are dramatic chase sequences scored by music that seems only a few beats off from the Benny Hill theme. Perhaps it’s the eccentricity of the score and how unusual it is for a movie like this that endears it to people -makes the movie seem more unconventional and surprising. But I simply couldn’t bring myself to like it in those scenes where the actions and choices on screen were supposed to really mean something. Karras’ music would have been great in another movie: a Road To… comedy or a Rat Pack caper perhaps, but it’s just too jarring for The Third Man.
However I can’t say the musical choices ruin the movie for me. Indeed it’s technique, story, and characters are too strong to be brought down by a bizarre soundtrack. The last Carol Reed-directed movie I reviewed, I didn't like much, but this one made nearly twenty years earlier is one of the finest film noirs ever made. It topped the BFI’s list of Greatest British Films, and despite its two American stars, is definitely quintessentially British. The Third Man not only openly addressed the fallout of war and the occupational clusterfuck it created, where desperation and unscrupulous opportunism thrived in equal measure, but also the importance of maintaining a moral centre when it’s been extinguished in someone close. And it did these things in an intelligently written and brazenly stylish way.
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