The Third Man (1949)

 

 Much of this film is about trying to discover things. We, the viewers, never quite work out who the third man actually was? At least, I’m not sure if I ever found out, although the chances are that it was Harry Lime himself.

References to the third man resemble the references to Rosebud in Citizen Kane. In both films, Joseph Cotten plays the “normal” character, the one against which we measure all the others. He is our moral reference; if he thinks it is right, we do too.

The amazing atmosphere of the film, shot in a largely deserted Vienna, full of ruined buildings; a triumph of exaggerated angles photography with dramatic shadows (Robert Krasker). Much of the action takes place inside decayed grand palace-like buildings, which have their own evocative sense.

Locked into the film is a very demeaning female role, that of Alida Valli as Harry Lime’s girlfriend, Alice Schmidt. Throughout the film, she defends her lover and maintains a kind of “love triumphs all” attitude. It doesn’t matter what he did, I still love him. It tells you something about Green’s attitude to women to create such a role; it has not worn well since 1949, and it made me wince to see such a one-dimensional character.

Undoubtedly much of the film’s rather eerie atmosphere comes from the relentlessly upbeat and trivial zither music. It heightens the feeling of unease and uncertainty that you feel in an unfamiliar environment, rather than simply being enjoyable for its own sake.

Critics have complained that Orson Welles makes the character of Harry Lime too appealing. Perhaps the director, aware that Welles (before he became very overweight) had quite an undergraduate-like charming face, did what he could to stress the sense of menace by focusing on his shoes before we see his face. However, apart from his witty line about the Swiss and cuckoo clocks, he captured reasonably well the attitude of a man who thinks himself above the law, above usual moral principles. He was certainly more convincing than Noel Coward, apparently also considered for the part, would have been

As usual, Greene writes from a simplistic Catholic point of view. It is astonishing that a major novelist could depict such a simple world of good and evil. Joseph Cotton is good; the British forces are good; Harry Lime is evil, as are most of his cronies. If only the world were so simple. There are times when Greene seems only a slightly more elaborate version of G K Chesterton with his proselytizing Sunday-school moral lessons.  

Another weakness of the plot is that Joseph Cotten is supposed to be playing a widely read popular novelist who writes westerns. Cotton looks far too sensitive and educated to play a philistine purveyor of popular fiction, and the scene where he gives a talk on the modern novel falls very flat – because he is unaware of most classic fiction, but is expected to answer questions on it. That is the scene, incidentally, highly praised by Pierre Bayard in his How to Talk about Books you haven’t read, but only because it appealed to Bayard’s very curious fascination with such unlikely situations.

Nonetheless, despite the one-dimensional plotting and attitudes, the film remains magnificent. The locations and camerawork, the stunning images of a deserted, war-damaged Vienna at night. The empty cafes; the fairground; the dreary rooms; these are images I won’t forget in a hurry.

It seems perhaps strange that Carol Reed made only three films considered to be great  – Odd Man Out, The Fallen Idol and this one, all within a few years; his other credits include Oliver! and Trapeze, neither of which sound very exciting. Perhaps that is the nature of film: the perfect film does not exist, The Third Man is not a masterpiece, but we are grateful for a few unforgettable moments, perhaps a camera angle, or a human face, or some movement: not, for me, the chase scenes in the sewers of Vienna, but some of the expressions of fear on people’s faces, or the feeling of an occupying force trying valiantly but without success to control a horrific underworld of thieves and betrayal. The final scene, a tree-lined avenue with dead leaves fluttering down, and Alida Valli walking towards, and then past Joseph Cotton, is gripping.