Du rififi chez les hommes a.k.a. Rififi (1955)

Adversity is the touchstone of friendship.

-French Proverb

While not a clear-cut case of art imitating life, director Jules Dassin’s 1955 film Rififi is a strong example of a tumultuous life event serving as muse. Bearing Dassin’s unmatched ingenuity in the study of duplicity and devotion under the guise of a film noir heist movie, this inspiration came from a burdensome and pathos filled experience for Dassin. A talented Hollywood director and writer in the 1940s, Dassin was eventually named as a communist sympathizer to the HUA committee by friend and fellow director Edward Dymtryk in 1952. This led to Hollywood blacklisting for Dassin and eventual exile from the United States. The trauma afforded Jules Dassin the opportunity to understand profound dimensions of loyalty and betrayal. This same understanding remarkably paved the way for Rififi‘s themes to resonate in a manner that still wields power today as it did over fifty years ago.

Rififi’s opening shot is a card table filled with poker chips, cash and hands being played. Through this visual establishment we understand risk, chance and big stakes set the tone of this film. Taking part in this back room game is Tony le Stephanois (Jean Servais). Tony is an older Parisian con just out of the joint after a five-year stint in which he took a pinch for his pal Jo le Suedois (Carl Mohner). When a caper they tried to pull went awry, the inexperienced Jo could easily have been the one incarcerated, but Tony was solid and took the fall for his cohort. The time in prison has taken its toll on “Le Stephanois” as he’s known, looking haggard and also nursing a deep malign chest cough. Jo gravely realizes the effects five years on the inside had on Tony; he understandably feels indebted to him because his sacrifice. Not to be discounted there is also a genuine affection between the two men. Jo’s wife Louise (Janine Darcey) and son have also embraced Tony as family, as he was the inspiration for their boy’s name ‘Tonio’ and also serves as the tyke’s Godfather.

Fresh out of prison and Reliant on Jo for money, Tony takes a meeting regarding a job Jo has planned with friend and fellow heist man Mario Ferrati (Robert Manuel). Jo and Mario’s plan is to smash and grab some rocks in the window of the infamous Mappin and Webb Ltd. Jewelry store located in the film’s setting of Paris. Tony dismisses the idea and declines the offer by interjecting, “Mappin and Webb, you’re nuts. Why not the bank of France?” adding, “I don’t run so fast anymore.”

While passing on the prospect of some new business, Tony has the unfinished kind with his old flame Mado les Grand Bras (Marie Sabouret). She quickly hooked up with another underworld player, and nightclub owner, named Pierre Grutter (Marcel Lupovici) after Tony was incarcerated. Mado had also pawned all of Tony’s possessions ‘to survive’ before meeting Pierre. As much as Tony feels betrayed by her, Mado is equally surprised when Tony unexpectedly shows up at her door. Mado was unaware of his release and nervously asks about his new freedom. With a foreboding nod to what will happen next Tony tells Mado, “They let me out, for good behavior.” Motivated by Mado moving on with her life while his stagnated in the pen, Tony orders Mado to strip out of her clothing, jewels and furs she claims some of which she earned. Most likely though we glean Pierre provided her with the lion’s share. Tony forces her in the bedroom, grabs a belt off the door and we hear him quickly beat her with it while the camera zooms in on a picture tacked to the wall. The photo shows Mado and Tony in happier times, drinking champagne at a nightclub, looking suave and unaffected; a lifetime away from this present scene of brutality. There seems to be no joy for Tony in giving Mado five belt lashes on her back judging from his wrought look afterward while throwing her clothes back at her. Dassin is sure to interject ambiguity as he consciously contains the act of violence off screen. Tony strongly feels he was not only robbed, but is owed something and leaves the marks on Mado’s back as a violent symbol for Pierre Grutter and Mado to fathom his rancor.

Tony’s acrimonious action functions as a catalyst: immediately he tells Jo that he’s in on the Mappin and Webb caper. “A mans gotta live” he reasons when asked why he changed his mind. Tony agrees to the Mappin and Webb job with Jo and Mario but the conditions must change: he wants the big haul, namely the safe inside the store full of millions in diamond jewelry. For the specialty work the safe requires they call in Mario’s friend Cesar le Milanais (Played by Jules Dassin himself under the pseudonym Perlo Vita) from Italy. Mario concisely attests to Cesar’s strengths and weaknesses by informing Tony and Jo, “They say there’s not a safe that can resist Cesar, and not a woman that Cesar can resist.”

When we are finally introduced to Pierre Grutter at his nightclub, he is smacking around his younger brother Remi, a junkie who is so desperate for heroin he pulls a straight razor on his older brother in a feeble attempt to threaten him for some. A hardened Pierre doesn’t seem fazed at the sight of the blade. Pierre’s unyielding manner stems from having his hands in many nefarious pies; the night club is merely a front for his other lucrative illegal activities. Tony, still carrying a chip on his shoulder for Grutter, goes to his club to confront him. Jo, Mario and even Cesar show up to watch Tony’s back. Anticipating a confrontation with Pierre after leaving his calling card all over Mado’s back, Tony initially scoffs at his three friend’s protectiveness. Mario tells Tony, “He says (Cesar) we should stick together on everything.” Tony calls him a St. Bernard, alluding to his loyalty but ironically foreshadowing Cesar’s eventual betrayal. The confrontation with Pierre is a dud. Pierre is in the dark as to Mado’s whereabouts. Perplexed, Tony learns Mado left town the previous night after being ‘marked’ by Tony and didn’t run to Pierre for protection. At this development Jo states that Tony, “Just learned some women have guts.”

Before the previously described scene unfolds, a musical number by the club’s leading attraction Viviane (Federico Fellini favorite Magali Noel) is performed. Viviane sings about her ne’er-do-well gangster boyfriend being so “rififi” as the song she sings is the basis of the film’s title (the word “rififi” in Parisian slang translates to ‘rough n’ tumble’). She performs the fantastic number in front of a stage of silhouetted figures: noir archetypes in suits, fedoras, brandishing guns, smoking cigarettes, while slapping their molls around and so forth. The number serves not only as a point where an enraptured Cesar falls hard for Viviane, but the accompanying exaggerated visuals to Viviane’s number are a clever meta-noir moment and wink from Dassin.The second act of the film consists of the four men preparing and executing the heist. Our four protagonists manage to get a hold of the same alarm system Mappin and Webb uses in order to study it in their underground ‘workshop.’ The four spend a bit of time testing its limits (slight levels of sound set it off for example) and figuring out how to neutralize it. This scene not only shows their ingenuity, but also gives us a tantalizing idea of how they plan to break into the jewelers and execute the job; the meticulous teamwork we will witness during the heist is being cultivated.

Rififi’s infamous heist scene is nothing short of a masterpiece second act for an entire thirty-three dialogue free minutes. Our men break in to the apartment above Mappin and Webb, where Webb himself lives, chloroform him and tie him up. The crew then proceeds to chisel their way down into the jewelry store through the apartment floor. All this is done with near utter silence as to not trip the alarm or alert any outside variables. With the nerve wracking exception of Jo accidentally touching a piano key on the baby grand in Webb’s flat, Dassin opts for sans music during this extended sequence. The effect draws the viewer in closer to the physicality of the heist, as if they were in the room with the thieves themselves. The little touches Dassin incorporates for the robbers to remain stealthy are ingenious (placing a thick sock over a hammer’s head to reduce the clanking between it and the chisel used to go through the floor) and humorous (Dassin’s recherché character Cesar ops for ballet slippers instead of his crew’s preferred tennis sneakers when they clandestinely move about the store). The heist must be seen to be appreciated for not only Dassin’s wonderful choices in filming the process, but the wit in which our larcenous leads execute the robbery. One noteworthy aspect Dassin conveys so well is the amount of physical labor and eventual exhaustion the caper demands from these men. By the end of the sequence the audience feels they too may have sweat a liter and are drained from the amazing pressure they witnessed the protagonists operate under for hours. We, as the audience, bond with Tony, Jo, Mario and Cesar because we’ve shared an extraordinary experience together; like combat or childbirth. We’re all much closer now through their sustained felonious toil.

The haul is spectacular, netting them millions of francs worth of jewelry which they stash at Mario’s apartment. Of course human fallibility will impede this as Cesar’s Achilles heel is women, namely Viviane. A brilliant diamond ring Cesar noticed earlier while casing the Mappin and Webb store was irresistible. After the loot was obtained, Cesar quickly goes back for the ring unbeknown to the rest of his crew. Post caper, he places the ring on Viviane’s finger as an opulent way of wooing her. A rock worth a million francs is hard to miss however and her boss at the club, Pierre Grutter, is no exception. After asking her some questions about where she obtained such a ring, he learns Viviane is Cesar’s paramour. Pierre also determines Cesar works with Mario who in turn runs with Jo and Tony. As the heist has become all the news in Paris, Pierre realizes the four did the job. Determined to find and keep the jewels for himself, he tortures Cesar and murders Mario and his girlfriend. Mario’s girlfriend Ida (Claude Sylvian) warns Tony just before Pierre snuffs her out that Pierre is on to him and looking for the loot.

The ethics of Rififi’s underworld and the people operating within develops into an integral part of the narrative at this point, transcending the foundation of this theme Dassin had been establishing during the film. Despite the unsavory business these people practice, there is a code of honor between our anti-hero thieves. When Pierre and his goons hold Mario and his girlfriend Ida captive in an attempt to get the diamonds, the scene is heart wrenching as the couple both know that they will die. Their loyalty to Tony however, is paramount over the drowning fear they must have experienced in the fatal moment. They give up their lives instead of the diamonds while simultaneously protecting Tony and Jo with their sacrifice. Tony later recovers the diamonds from Mario’s when the coast is clear and stashes them with Jo. Le Stephanois then heads to Grutter’s nightclub to exact revenge from the man who murdered his friend. The club is empty with the exception of a tied up Cesar who asks Tony about Mario. Tony informs him he’s dead. Cesar’s strained expression tips Tony off: Cesar gave up Mario to Grutter. Pained at this development, Tony explains to Cesar while raising his gun, “I liked you, I really liked you Macaroni, but you know the rules.” In an exceptionally emotional twist due to Dassin casting himself, Cesar (Dassin) barely manages his solemn explanation, “Forgive me. I was afraid” just before Tony backs up and deposits several slugs in him. In an interview on the Criterion edition of the DVD, when describing his thought process while writing this scene, Dassin said, “I was just thinking of all my friends who at that moment during that McCarthy era, betrayed other friends.” Dassin being one of the aforementioned betrayed and playing the betrayer in his film gives the scene an eerie and tangible power.

Meanwhile the tension of this last act is ratcheted up even further as Pierre and little brother Remi kidnap Jo’s son Tonio as ransom for the jewels. The desperation of Jo and his wife Louise mounts as they cannot inform the police of the kidnapping as per Grutter’s instructions (and obviously the fact they have stolen 240 million francs worth of diamonds), but they’re willing to hand over the loot to Pierre. Tony le Stephanois knows better and puts the kibosh on that idea. The kid is a witness and Grutter won’t let him live as soon as they get the jewels. Tony knows the only option is to go after Grutter and his goons to snatch the kid back before they know what hit them. Tony calls upon his network of hoods and their streetwise knowledge to find Grutter’s hideout. Mado eventually returns and plays the most crucial role in helping Tony find and recover little Tonio. Despite what Tony put Mado through, she is faithful to a moral benchmark above her ambivalent feelings toward Tony. Lines of loyalty continue to fortify in this third act as Jo must trust Tony to get back his son even when he has the capability to give up the loot as ransom while Tony is out chasing down leads as to his son’s whereabouts. Solidarity is paramount between these characters and when it is broken (Cesar) chaos ensues and innocence along with weakness is exploited by the morally devoid. These motifs are a wise guy’s credo in the film but also beliefs straight from Dassin’s own heart.

The film ends in a violent flurry and race against time. Dassin conveys this in a beautifully edited, stylistically staccato way that I would bet inspired Godard’s jump cuts when he made Breathless five years later. Visually the conclusion is a departure from the rest of the film where his use of the gorgeous Parisian streets at night and overcast damp sidewalks during the day make for a cohesive and memorable aesthetic. The Director of photography Philippe Agostini also had a knack for framing the wonderful streets, bridges and staircases of Paris in such a way that from the camera’s perspective, produce an elongated effect giving the shots a wonderful stylized depth. The film looks amazing and is assembled in a crisp, intelligent and daring fashion.

Rififi’s cast is very solid overall with Jean Servais as Tony leading the memorable ensemble. His worn and sorrowful look is perfect as he is also able to convey a steely toughness when necessary. The standouts are the actors playing Italians namely Robert Manuel as Mario and I would argue that Dassin nearly steals his own film as Cesar le Milanais. He’s quite good in the role as he is able to mix in humor and sell the dramatic final scene between Cesar and Tony (Dassin however is not as good in a straight man comedic role in his otherwise charming 1960 film Never on Sunday)

Rififi is bold, imaginative and near flawless filmmaking. The exposition and characters are so well crafted that Dassin’s many subtle and daring directorial touches only contribute to the aggregate of an outstanding work of art. Rififi’s heist scene has been copied and imitated repeatedly over the years and is the jump-off point in most discussions regarding the film, but surrounding that brilliant nucleus is a network of wonderful acting, cinematography, music, editing and writing which make the overall cell of Rififi fortified and resilient to time. But beyond the biology of the film its turbulent emotional content of loyalty and betrayal is what makes Rififi truly sing. Like the lyrics from the film’s song declares, “All it means is rough n’ tumble” and you will not want the ride any other way.

Pickup on South Street (1953)

Skip McCoy is a sleazy, thieving, smart-ass. He has a gift for the grift and he’s not hesitant to use it on easy and innocent prey. If he has a middle name it may be “recidivism” as he’s been pinched by the police on many occasions for picking pockets and done jail time in three separate stints. Because of his three strikes, one more conviction for Skip and he’s going to the slammer for life. Candy on the other hand is a B-girl who has been “knocked around a lot” and seems to think its status quo for a girl like her. A svelte, good looking dame whose white dress worn in the film is so tight, she may need turpentine at the end of the night to peel it off. Candy gets these taut threads namely from guys with dough who want to see her in them. One could speculate that she most likely does more than simply bat her eyelashes at these same mooks to keep the duds they put her in. Lastly Moe Williams is a sub-contractor stool pigeon to the cops plain and simple. She resents the stoolie label however stating that she, “was brought up to report any injustice to the police authority.” Despite this rationalization, when the price was right she dropped a dime on Skip’s modus operandi and whereabouts to the cops when they were looking for his neck to hang a collar on. It may not seem too strange for a professional canary to sing about a lowly pickpocket, but unusual when one considers Moe has known Skip since he was a kid and genuinely professes to love him. While this triumvirate of two-bit hoods and hustlers may sound like the kind of scene you’d want to avoid at all costs, it’s these same characters you can’t afford to miss in director Sam Fuller’s masterpiece Pickup on South Street.

The film opens on a NYC subway car where Candy (Jean Peters) is carrying an envelope given to her by ex-boyfriend Joey (Richard Kiley). As a last favor to him she is to deliver the envelope to a man at a rendezvous point and she’ll be done with Joey once and for all. Candy is unaware that the contents inside the envelope (we later learn) are strips of microfilm consisting of classified U.S. government secrets that the Russians are dying to get their pinko paws around. Joey is working for the commies and looking for a big pay day with the delivery of the film. Candy is his unknowing buffer and potential fall-gal in case the deal goes sour. The U.S. government is aware of the breach and G-Men have been following Joey and the people he associates with for six months hoping to land the big players above him. We observe J. Edgar’s agents tailing and keeping a close eye on Candy in the subway car. Unexpectedly, while the car is in motion, they witness a man position himself next to Candy in the crowded car and adroitly pluck the wallet from her purse right under her oblivious nose. Before they can react the thief is off the train at the next stop with Candy’s wallet containing the envelope and microfilm. One of the G-Men continues to tail Candy while the other visits NYC police Captain Dan Tiger (Murvyn Vye) to try and find out who this “cannon” is that lifted the microfilm. To expedite the process of finding out whom the pickpocket’s identity, Captain Tiger calls in one of his informants; a little old lady named Moe Williams (Thelma Ritter). Moe looks like she’s as altruistic as Florence Nightingale, but in reality the only pulse Moe has her finger on is the seedy underbelly of the NYC grifter element. This inside knowledge, coupled with the cops hitting a dead end, allows her to drop a dime on the hoods to earn a dollar. She expertly identifies the pickpocket as Skip McCoy (Richard Widmark) by the G-men’s eyewitness description of his uniquely individual thieving technique. Both the G-Men and Captain Tiger’s police force know he has the microfilm and they haul in Skip attempting to pry it out of him. Skip won’t cop to possessing it, as one more conviction, added to his three, will ensure they throw away the key on him. From here on out Candy tries to use Moe to get the microfilm back from Skip. Moe tries to milk Candy’s desperation to find Skip for her own financial gain. Skip discovers the microfilm and tries to grift Candy for a big payday from Joey and the commies. I’m just scratching the surface as the story has more wonderfully crazy angles and twists than an Escher drawing. Fortunately the tale never gets convoluted in its complexity and continues to build toward a gripping third act that stands up to any noir history.

While the screenplay (written by Sam Fuller from a story by Dwight Taylor) is rich in dialogue, narrative, and story, the cast elevates it to a plateau of excellence that few movies in film noir reach. Widmark is outstanding as the anti-hero and gives arguably his best performance from an impressive ‘cannon’ of work. Jean Peters gives a solid performance as the manipulated moll Candy. While she may not have the otherworldly chops of Widmark or Ritter, she sells the part well enough to keep up with her co-stars. Without a doubt though, Thelma Ritter is soul of this film. Her ability to convey the vulnerability, charm, and guile of a complex character like Moe is a feat I can picture no other actress accomplishing the way she did in Pickup. It’s a brilliant performance that belongs in the pantheon of film. Seriously.

Visually there is plenty to appreciate and enjoy with Pickup on South Street but Fuller’s use of the close-up is the visual element that resonates deepest with me. He judiciously uses tight facial framing but maximizes its effectiveness when he does. Each main character gets a notable close-up during points in the film where a significant aspect of their character is revealed and we get a better understanding of the people occupying Fuller’s world. During Thelma Ritter’s introductory scene in Captain Tiger’s office, the camera is kept at bay until Tiger asks Moe about the status of her “kitty” (her savings which is simply a big wad of cash). Moe has been saving up scratch from her legitimate business front of selling men’s neck–ties on the street and also her informant money so she can buy herself a top of the line funeral and all the trimmings. She tells Tiger that she’s almost has enough for the headstone and the exclusive plot on Long Island where you have to be screened before they “let you in there.” Tiger warns her that she better be careful about carrying around such a large wad of cash, especially with the ne’er-do-wells she associates with otherwise she’ll end up in Potter’s Field. Tiger’s words act as a vacuum to the feisty and energetic flame in Moe’s eyes. Her face drains only to be refilled quickly with a grave look of concern that comes over her as the camera gets to an intimate distance with her face. She confides to the police Captain, “Look Tiger, if I was to be buried in Potter’s field… It’d just about kill me.” There are several moments in the film like this where such a small aspect reveals so much about the different character’s desires, fears and motivations.

As if the fantastic story isn’t enough, Pickup has many complex and fascinating themes permeating the film. One I discovered on a recent viewing is the interesting dichotomy between reliance on the male dominated world in which Moe and Candy operate to survive and their struggle with maintaining independence and autonomy. Moe needs men to buy her neck-ties and Captain Tiger to help feed her kitty. Candy needs men to earn a living by being the “eye” type of her namesake. The viewer gleans that Candy floats from the arm of one guy to the next but it’s not something she’s particularly proud of. When his tail is on the line and he needs a lead as to who lifted the microfilm from her purse, Joey asks Candy, “You’ve knocked around a lot. You know people who know people.” Candy’s face tenses up and Fuller gives the audience another telling close-up as she snarls, “You gonna throw that in my face again?” Due to the nature of their professions Moe and Candy can’t afford to get too close to anybody, yet simultaneously they have a pragmatic need for connecting with people. But beneath these same necessary connections of survival stirs an emotional longing to unite with others on a human level. Unexpectedly and briefly, Candy and Moe seem to find this commonality with each other via Skip acting as an inadvertent catalyst. It’s an interesting dynamic and brief exploration of such between these two women, especially for the patriarchal and straight-laced era in which the film was made.

There are so many little touches to Pickup on South Street that help make it one of the finest film noirs I’ve ever seen. I love the way a streetwise character named Lightning Louie uses chopsticks in a Chinese restaurant to pocket cash on the table. I adore Moe as she’s working angles as an informer and simultaneously trying to sell her ties or as she calls them “a complete line of personality neck-ware.” I never tire of the scene where Moe deduces that Skip is the microfilm thief by the individual method in which he lifts Candy’s wallet because Moe knows each pickpocket’s methods are as distinct and unique as a fingerprint. I crack up over the way Skip keeps his beer cold in his unconventional hideout and offers a cop one by nearly hurling the bottle at him from across the room. I love it when Candy realizes her wallet has been lifted while she’s inside the lobby of a building and somewhere outside the sound of an alarm goes off. I love the existential acceptance shown by Skip when he realizes that Moe told Candy where he was hiding out and he embraces her being a stool-pigeon by quipping “Moe’s alright, she’s gotta eat.” These are just a few samples of many, many details and nuances in Pickup that make up an aggregate of mesmerizing and near flawless filmmaking. One viewing of Pickup on South Street is not enough to fully appreciate its genius, but one viewing will certainly whet the thirst of any true film-lover enough to continue going back and drink from this refreshing well, again and again.

Red Sox Regular Season Wrap-up

When you end up tied for the best record in baseball it's fair to say you had a pretty good year. Well that's just what the 2007 AL East Champion Boston Red Sox did this season. While things got a little dicey there at the end (sorry Sox fans who got that one, I'm addicted to puns) with the yankmees playing insanely great ball after the all-star break and whittling down the Sox game lead in the east from 14 and a half to just a couple, the old towne team pulled through. We also clinched home field advantage throughout the playoffs. Not too shabby. In fact, one may say it's pissah (if one was a Masshole).

As someone who followed them quite closely, watched about half of their games, and attended half a dozen of them in person, I feel somewhat qualified to state a few observations and thoughts on some of the players this season. Here are the starting nine...

1) Daisuke Matsuzaka - I called it when I told many fellow friends that he would end up with about 15 wins and an ERA around four and a half (15-12 with a 4.40 ERA). I have to pat myself on the back on this prediction as I'm usually mediocre at best in that department. I was at his first game he pitched at Fenway where he had decent stuff but the performance was overshadowed by Felix Hernandez of Seattle throwing a one-hitter in the match-up (the best live pitching performance I've ever seen at the major league level). Dice-K obviously had some serious consistency problems this season as his walks (80) and giving up the long ball (25) seemed to be confined to a particular inning during each start. The rest of the start he would pitch anywhere between pretty well to lights out. I think that the numerous adjustments to pitching in the U.S. (along with the many cultural and language challenges) perhaps had more to do with his numbers than anything else. I believe he also hit a wall at the end of the season where his endurance ran out. He was acclimated to a shorter schedule and six days between games in Japan. That must have played a significant part. The Sox were apparently quite hands off with his physical training and workout regime; the Sox brass allowed him near full autonomy in that department. I imagine that will change next year to prevent the abysmal last month and a half he had (with the exception of the night they clinched the East on Friday the 28th when he went 8 full innings, giving up only two runs). I think he will improve next year, but I don't think he will be an ace or anything more than a solid number three or possibly two starter. Over 200 innings and 15 wins this year is nothing to sneeze at however.

2) Josh Beckett - Should win the Cy Young Award if that tells you anything.

3) Mike Lowell - You'd have to be a serious douche-bag (yes I have a Bachelor's in English) not to love this guy. Not only has he torn the cover off the ball all season long, but especially in the second half quieting the naysayers that expected another late season drop off in production. He's been clutch, a leader, a producer, defensively solid (although with an anomalous year for this former gold glover with 15 errors) and a liaison between the English and Spanish speaking players with his bilingual fluency. Mike Lowell is also a very articulate and class-act. My favorite Mike Lowell moment from this year were his thoughts about the inside-the-park home run Ichiro hit in the All-Star game. A reporter asked him to comment on it and Lowell said something to the effect of "He got out of the box pretty quickly but when he rounded second he really poured it on and was blazing down the paths the rest of the way to home plate...it reminded me of a young Mike Lowell." Hilarious. I'm secure enough in my heterosexual masculinity to admit that I have a huge man-crush on the guy.

4) Julian Tavarez - I was not a Tavarez fan before this year. I couldn't stand the guy with his Freddy Kruger rugged looks, psycho temper, and proclivity toward self-destructing (although I didn't mind his punching the dugout phone in 2004). Last year he seemed to blow every game he was put in. However, the first three months of the season this year he really came through with some great wins and strong outings that picked up the club when Beckett had his blister and was out for a couple of weeks. He was 5-5 during those three months with a 4.60 ERA. The Sox were also 3-1 in his no-decisions he pitched in that span giving generally solid outings. His contributions seem to be overlooked because of his 7-11 record with a 5.15 ERA for the season. He took the ball and the mound when asked and was glad to do so. He also made me laugh with his candlepin bowling looking technique of getting the ball to first base for the out on one occasion.

5) Hideki Okajima - Anybody think we should pick up his third year option for less than two million?

6) Jacoby Ellsbury - Hands down the fastest Red Sox player I've ever seen. I believe it was one of his first games he was called up for in the beginning of July against Texas where he singled, stole second, and then scored from second on a wild pitch. Did I mention it was from second base? I was a mouth breather for a minute straight after that play. My boss Sully says that Ellis Burks was the fastest Sox player back when he first debuted in 1987 and before he bulked up. While he has a legit argument there, Ellsbury seems quicker out of the box and around the base paths. Interestingly enough both men were/are Sox centerfielders and have the same birthday of September 11th (I sometimes can retain the most irrelevant of knowledge.)

7) J.D. Drew - Like one more person needs to bitch about this guy. He's been super hot the past several weeks so if he continues to hit like he has in that span, during the playoffs...it still won't make up for this first season in Boston. A walkoff and two dozen RBIs in the playoffs may lessen the sting of his atrocious 1st year with the Sox. The bar has been set J.D.!!!

8) Dustin Pedroia - isn't big, fast, powerful or intimidating. But he can play ball really, really well. He's gutsy and attacks the game with fire and determination. How can you not root for the guy? When I saw the Sox play a few games at Fenway against Kansas City in July, I was sitting pretty close on the first base side and saw Pedroia and David Ortiz stretching and talking next to each other before the game. I haven't seen that kind of size discrepancy side by side since Billy Crystal and Gheorghe Muresan teamed up to not make me laugh. Pedroia has proved everyone wrong his entire life before this season that said a 5'6" guy couldn't play ball . This year was no exception either. He will most likely win the Rookie of the Year with his .317 batting average and great defense. My favorie Pedroia moment of the season was the amazing diving stop and throw to first in the 7th inning during Clay Bucholtz's no-hitter. The play itself was phenomenal; robbing Tejada and saving the no hitter. But I loved the slow-mo replay where they zoomed in on Pedroia when Miggy was called out at first. You didn't have to be a lipreader to see when he got the call, he slapped his glove against his hand and yelled "FUCK YEA!" Fuck yea indeed Dustin.

9) Manny Ramirez - Is he back yet? I'm even more convinced now that Manny is not chewing tobacco but a giant cud of hashish instead. What else would explain him hocking his neighbor's grill on ebay?

More Soxtober comments to come as the playoffs get underway but until then just a few stats to think about...

...Jared Weaver's ERA facing the Sox is 6.97 this year and over 12 at Fenway, and he starts game 3 of the ALDS. The only thing worse if you're an Angels fan is John Lackey is 0-2 against the Sox this season with a 8.38 ERA, and from 2004-2006 he was 1-2 with a 5.60 ERA versus them. Oh, and he's your game 1 starter Wednesday...at Fenway. Have fun playing golf next week Angels.

The Narrow Margin (1952)

Landscapes and environment were undeniably integral aspects of many classic film noirs. They seemed nearly as important in conveying the crucial noir elements of suspense and dread as the actors starring in them. From the cobblestone streets of Vienna in The Third Man, the seedy underworld of London in Night and the City, the sprawling metropolis of Los Angeles in Double Indemnity and Sunset Boulevard, and of course the concrete jungle of Manhattan in Scarlett Street, The Naked City and Pickup on South Street are just few of the numerous possible match-ups. These environments breathed aesthetic life into these films and literally set the stage for the players to interact, investigate, pursue, be chased, live and die on their streets.

But what if our film noir protagonist didn’t have the streets of New York City to hide from his pursuers? What if he was a cop, who had no expansive boulevards of Los Angeles to elude the mob trying to rub out his star witness he was assigned to protect? What if our cop and his witness were confined to small, narrow compartments in a passenger train speeding along at 60 mph? What if that same mob had goons, bent on killing the witness, inside that same train and outside keeping pace with them in a car traveling alongside on the highway? If you’re that cop the preceding picture sounds about as appealing as being a diver in a shark cage during a feeding frenzy. Only these sharks are inside the cage with the diver. In The Narrow Margin this scenario comes to life in this expertly executed thriller, with even more twists piled onto the wonderfully contorted premise (warning, spoilers are a comin’).

Our film opens with a pair of L.A. detectives arriving in Chicago with an assignment to protect a widowed mob wife. She’s holding a list of names and the knowledge to put away L.A. Mafia heavies in a graft investigation. The detectives, Walter Brown (Charles McGraw) and Gus Forbes (Don Beddoe) arrive at the Chicago safe house (which is a not so safe, nor private, boarding house) where the mob widow Mrs. Frankie Neall (Marie Windsor) is being protected by the local cops. Brown and Forbes must get Mrs. Neall back to L.A. safely so she can deliver the incendiary list of names and testify to the grand jury awaiting her arrival. The transfer goes awry as one of the mob button men kills Forbes and flees before Brown can apprehend him. Brown grabs Mrs. Neall and makes a b-line to the train station with two, one-way tickets to L.A.

Mrs. Neall turns out to be a real firecracker of a shrew. Previously, on the cab ride from the train station to the safe-house, Forbes and Brown wonder what kind of a woman would become a mobster’s wife also adding the crucial (yet implausible) plot element that “nobody’s seen her.” Brown interjects a profile of the unseen moll, speculating that she “is a dish… a 60 cent special. Cheap, flashy and strictly poison under the gravy.” Forbes counters with foreshadowing insight that “all kinds” of women could potentially marry a Mafia racketeer, not just the stereotypical portrait Brown has painted. However, Marie Windsor’s Mrs. Neall seems to be closer to Brown’s estimate with her sharp tongue and curvaceous body. After their harrowing escape and during the cab ride to the train station with Brown, Windsor expresses zero sympathy for Forbes and the bullet he just took for her. She even begins to flirt with Brown mere minutes after his partner of six years takes the big one for the team. Brown puts the kibosh on her advances saying that she is just a job in his eyes and she quickly backs off by snarling, “I wouldn’t want any of that nobility to rub off on me.”

Brown gets Windsor on the train unseen but moments later on the platform, is spotted by mob goon Joseph Kemp (David Clarke). Kemp follows Brown on the train and the wheels are set in motion for this claustrophobic cat and mouse chase about to take place on a passenger locomotive. Brown has bought two compartments on the train for him and Mrs. Neall and they initially elude Kemp’s snooping around both rooms. But Kemp knows Brown has her stashed somewhere on the train. In addition to Kemp, a mafia liaison by the name of Vincent Yost is also on the train. He confronts and attempts to bribe Brown for the list and the whereabouts on the train of Mrs. Neall (remember the mafia apparently doesn’t know what she looks like). Brown is momentarily tempted, but he can’t be bought and also can’t arrest Yost as he has a squeaky clean record as a sales executive for one of the mob’s legitimate company fronts. Windsor’s Mrs. Neal eavesdrops at the door from the adjoining compartment to the attempted bribery by Yost. She later tells Brown that he is a sucker for not taking the bribe and tells him that they could split the money and take off. Brown tells Windsor she makes him sick to his stomach to which she replies, “Well use your own sink, and let me know when the target practice starts.”

While the cat and mouse goes on between him and Kemp, Brown keeps bumping into the attractive, Mrs. Sinclair (Jacqueline White) and her son Tommy around the train. She looks the part of a wholesome woman with a precocious boy who if Ritalin was around in the early 50s, I’m sure he would be receiving the maximum daily dose. It’s no coincidence (kind of) however that Mrs. Sinclair and Brown keep meeting up. As it turns out she is the real Mrs. Neall, traveling clandestinely (as much as one can with a hyperactive eight-year old child and nanny in tow) after the D.A. instructed her to get to the coast undetected. This twist is revealed shockingly after Marie Windsor’s character is finally discovered and bumped off by Kemp and another hit man who boarded the train in Albuquerque named Densel. Equally surprising is Windsor was an internal affairs policewoman, posing as Mrs. Neall and trying to ensnare the seemingly un-bribable Brown in a payoff from the mob.

Now that the tables have been turned the tension is ratcheted up as McGraw’s Detective Brown must protect the real Mrs. Neall (who didn’t know her husband was tied to the mob and turned state’s evidence once she found out), her son Tommy and thwart Kemp and Densel (who we learn is also his partner Forbes’s killer). All of that on a speeding train with the only possible stops left on the line being death or Los Angeles.

While there are some suspect plot holes one could drive a-you-know-what through, director Richard Fleischer keeps the pace moving so quickly that time to dwell on them is not allotted. Clocking in at a lean 71minutes, there isn’t a trace of gristle in this thriller that’s as juicy and satisfying as a thick sirloin steak. Fleischer made a beautiful looking film with near perfect lighting and camera work. The latter aspect comes into play in many scenes but especially the fantastic fistfight between Kemp and Brown in a train washroom. Using a handheld camera (unusual for the time and especially fist fights), the principle actors, low angles and tight shots, make for an amazingly gritty scene of fisticuffs in such a confined, ‘narrow’ space. Fleischer expertly plays with the claustrophobic and restricted space of the train throughout the film and as the tension increases, the shots seem to get tighter and tighter. Another extraordinary aspect and bold choice on Fleischer’s part is the omission of a music soundtrack. In place of a score, Fleischer prominently features the sounds of the train and its workings to audibly add to the mood. From the loud banging together of boxcars forewarning gunplay, to a nice sound match scene transition between Windsor nervously filing her nails and the wheels of the train rhythmically churning, the film is full of these interesting plays of sound and story.

The cast is a well-assembled one, each giving superb performances. Charles McGraw’s Detective Brown is the quintessential hard-nosed cop; played so tough by McGraw he could sleep on kegs and spit nails as my grandfather used to say. He convincingly conveys the fallibility of temptation (when offered the bribe) adding a nice dimension to the role he’s perfectly suited to play. The scene-stealer however is undoubtedly Marie Windsor. Not only is she easy on the eyes, as hers are strictly bedroom, but Windsor executes the role with moxie and flair, without overdoing it. It also helps that she gets the best lines in a dynamite script by Earl Felton from a story by Martin (Detour) Goldsmith. The Narrow Margin isn’t a perfect film but once conductor Fleischer takes your ticket, it’s a trip you won’t regret riding right to the end of the line.

NOTE: “The Narrow Margin” is being shown tomorrow (10/01/07) at 6:45 pm on TCM.

Blog neglect

To those that have asked about it, sorry I haven't posted anything since June but it's been a topsy-turvey summer and I've been slaving away on a ginormous paper for my professor that I just completed. However the blog will have some new entries coming soon (which I may even edit for errors this time) with such exciting subjects as....

1) Five Shows That Should Be Part of Discovery Channel's Shark Week.

2) Film Review: The Narrow Margin

3) Boston Red Sox regular season wrap-up and post-season preview (yea I'm confident about us getting there).

In the mean time enjoy Jerry Lewis's hilarious homophobic comment during this year's MDA telethon...

What a antiquated cut-up! As atonement I think he should sing "Never Walk Alone" at the conclusion of the NYC gay pride parade next year.