ON DANGEROUS GROUND: Blu-ray (RKO 1951) Warner Archive Collection
Take one cop
teetering on the edge between borderline sociopathic brute and agent of mercy,
a blind woman isolated in the snowbound wilderness of upstate Colorado, and a
hunted rapist on the lam and…well…you have the makings of Nicholas Ray’s
exceptionally underrated noir, On
Dangerous Ground, previewed in 1951, but given its ‘official’ wide release in 1952. Ray’s penchant for extracting from
this luxuriant unease the aggrieved psyche of a thoroughly flawed protagonist
is working overtime here; the sadly undervalued Robert Ryan, the conduit of
this anguished human opus, told in two movements with an almost symphonic arc
for operatic tragedy, effectively leading to the redemption of the human heart.
Ryan’s tightly wound Jim Wilson is a good cop; or rather, could be – if only he was not suffering from some fitful lack of
appreciation – his reasons for being good dwindling, as he flies off the handle
to give murderers, winos, crooks and stoolies a going over at the least
provocation. It does not matter the goons he pummels are as rotten to the core
as humanity can get. The devil, as they say, is in the details. But the last
man to tangle with Jim ended up with a ruptured bladder; the precinct, in for a
tussle with attorneys and Jim, ordered by his superior Capt. Brawley (Ed
Begley) to take it easy or else face sanctions and possibly even get kicked off
the force.
At 82 minutes,
On Dangerous Ground is a far more
invested and prolonged exploration into the fragility of one man’s decaying
soul, miraculously given a reprieve in the eleventh hour by an unforeseen ‘understanding’. Borrowing from Kahlil Gibran,
that “the most massive characters are
seared with scars” the film’s screenwriter, Albert Isaac Bezzerides, and
actor, Robert Ryan, have concocted a compelling spectacle out of Jim Wilson’s
migration of consciousness from one state to another. “When a character does not suffer,” Bezzerides once offered, “…there is no drama.” On Dangerous Ground tests this theory
to its utmost, Jim Wilson’s struggle from within brought forth as a festering lesion,
desperately in need of some miraculous healing powers. He discovers these in
the unlikeliest of women: Mary Malden (Ida Lupino), a martyred shut-in who has
sacrificed even her sight to remain vigilant over a wayward younger brother,
Danny (Sumner Williams). Alas, without her watchful eyes to keep tabs, Danny
has transgressed against Mary’s altruism; raped and murdered a local teenage
girl whose father, Walter Brent (Ward Bond) now vows bloody vengeance at the
point of his double-barreled shotgun. When it was released, On Dangerous Ground was not profitable;
the story, perhaps, too grim and realistic for audiences to digest. Even today,
the picture packs a deflating wallop. However, it equally lacks from an acute
disconnect; Bezzerides’ screenplay incongruously departing the claustrophobic
inner city cesspool for the even more stark and dingy wide open spaces; the
Colorado landscape creating a natural barrier: Jim and Walter’s trek across the
frozen wilderness, trudging through ankle and sometimes knee-deep drifts, their
car skidding off a slick embankment and rolling over several times.
On Dangerous Ground is perhaps the most curious
adaptation in noir history. Certainly, there remains very little of Gerard
Butler’s English-themed novel, Mad With Much Heart (published in
1946); the entire first act concocted by Bezzerides and Nicholas Ray as back
story; the book’s Jim Wilson, neither suffering from urban isolationism or a
slow, sad decline to a speedy mental breakdown. In its entirety, the novel’s
crime-solving milieu is told from Jim’s first person account. But Bezzerides’ adaptation adds unexpected
texture and that all essential and flavorful noir mood to the
straight-forwardness of the book; ably abetted by Bernard Herrmann’s
underscore, uncharacteristically, both forceful and haunting. Herrmann had come
to the project at the behest of producer, John Houseman; a major proponent of
his skills since Herrmann’s days as a conductor on CBS’s symphonic radio
program. When CBS decided to disband the series, as well as the musicians in
1946, Houseman encouraged Herrmann to consider RKO as his fallback. Alas, by
the time On Dangerous Ground began
to shoot, Houseman had departed the studio; Herrmann holding tight to the reins
of a contract already agreed upon under RKO’s new management team of Jerry Wald
and Norman Krasna. This gave Herrmann unprecedented creative control over the
final edit. It also allowed him to conduct the scoring sessions, a luxury not
readily afforded at this time. There are whole portions of On Dangerous Ground devoted to extolling the virtues of Herrmann’s
viscerally alarming, dark and sinister themes. Indeed, most of the tension
achieved between Jim and Walter during their perilous trek across the frozen
wilderness is generated by Herrmann’s string-based ‘chase’ themes; his even
more unsettling ‘love theme’ recorded with virtuoso, Virginia Majusky plying
her talents to a viola d’amore.
On Dangerous Ground was not just another B-noir
thriller in RKO’s hopper. Indeed, Nicholas Ray was given unusual permissions to
photograph a goodly percentage of the picture on location. Yet, even the
studio-bound process work possesses Ray’s dash for achieving a grittier
verisimilitude from this high key lit scenery, lensed to perfection by
cinematographer, George E. Diskant, who relies on a veritable basket of visual
clichés from the noir movement (high contrast chiaroscuro lighting - heavy on
the shadows - and perpetually rain-soaked and glistening wet pavement),
nevertheless, seamlessly blended into the bleak realism achieved beyond the
relative safety of the studio’s walls. And another plus to consider: the killer
cast of notably hard-edged reprobates, including Nita Talbot’s simpering and
smoky-eyed barroom B-girl (a sort of Veronica Lake gone to seed); also, Cleo
Moore’s finger-pointing moll, Myrna Bowers. From these cameos it is very easy
to see why Jim Wilson harbors a homogenized contempt for all humanity, and
women in particular. Even the relatively congenial soda hostess, Hazel (Joan
Taylor) shuns him. And Jim is frankly tired of being considered the pariah; bad
for the criminal element, but not nearly good enough to meet the high standards
of the forthright he is committed to serve and protect.
On Dangerous Ground’s other depictions of mankind
are as nefarious and unpleasant: Nestor Paiva’s paper-deliveryman cum snitch, Bagganierri,
or the leering four-eyed pimp, Gatos (played with oily offensiveness by A.I.
Bezzerides), offering Jim a bribe and/or the opportunity to abuse one of his
‘girls’ for the night - for a fee. Yet, unlike other movies depicting country
folk as corn-fed, pure-of-heart Bible-thumpers in stark contrast to these city-dwelling
bottom feeders, the isolated inhabitants who populate the second act in On Dangerous Ground offer mere
continuity of this moral corruption; Olive Carey’s Mrs. Brent, a steely-eyed
matriarch with dagger-loaded accusatory glances cast upon Sheriff Carrey (Ian
Wolfe) for bringing this stranger into their midst; the only eye-witness to the
crime, the Brent’s teenage daughter, Julie (Patricia Prest) stifled in her
shell-shocked confession, coached by familial skepticism and grotesquely warped anxiety; first, for uncovering, then obfuscating the truth.
On Dangerous Ground is often erroneously and
unfairly referenced as a copycat of 1951’s Detective
Story; despite Sidney Kingley’s play (on which the latter film is based)
being more maudlin and theatrical. Ironically, On Dangerous Ground has also been accused of this, particularly
during the penultimate speech delivered by Jim’s partner, Pop Daly (Charles
Kemper) after Jim corners a goon in a dark alley, responsible for the near-fatal
assault on Myrna. The dialogue bears repeating, Pop bluntly expounding the good
cop’s credo; “I live with other people.
This is just a job, like any other. I do it the best I can. It’s never enough,
but I do it. When I go home I don’t take this stuff with me. I leave it
outside. But you…the way you carry it around inside – you must like it! Maybe
you think that’s what makes you a good cop. The way you’re going you won’t be
good to anybody…not even yourself. Somebody had to tell you. You wanna get
something out a this life…you gotta put something in it – from the heart!” The
sentiments of this confrontation will continue to echo in Jim’s head. Yet, this
is precisely the point to be made; Jim Wilson wholly lacks this necessary
appendage – and understanding heart - generally associated with compassion.
There is no distinction for Jim between the people he serves and the ones he
more transparently identifies as the filth of the city. Jim’s inability to get
close to anyone, except when pulverizing a suspect into submission with his
fists, is a devastating blow to his own moral welfare; particularly as the
forthright protector toting the badge.
On Dangerous Ground opens with a thumbnail sketch of
Jim’s two partners; Pop Daly and Pete Santos (Anthony Ross); director, Nicholas Ray
and A.I. Bezzerides illustrating the careworn, thick-skinned, matter-of-fact
resolve men in blue must possess to endure the psychological severity of their chosen
profession. In many ways the complicity shared by each man’s wife acts as a buffer
or cushion against emotional responses – or lack thereof, when dealing with the
criminal element. Jim Wilson, by direct comparison, is a lone wolf, meticulously
– and almost maniacally searing the police circular into his subconscious; on
the prowl to identify a pair of cop killers he aims to bring to justice,
whatever the consequences. Capt. Brawley is breathing hard down his department
for some speedy results; and not just to look good in the papers. Alas, the
search does not progress smoothly, chiefly because Jim sees evil around every
corner; in the eye of every man and women he passes, even going so far as to
roust an undesirable, while a crowd of pedestrians looks on. Fundamentally, On Dangerous Ground is not about police
brutality, despite Jim’s gruff man-handling. This lands him in hot water with
Brawley. However, there is evidence to suggest RKO was sincerely worried about
its implication. A scene was added almost a year after production wrapped to
depict Jim given a dressing down by Capt. Brawley, before being exiled to the
sticks to investigate the Brent murder; perceived as both a punishment and a
way for Brawley to relocated Jim far away from the considerable heat the
department is presently taken for some of his other indiscretions.
Jim retreats
from the city, driving his car to the snowy enclave of Weston Junction, met at
the station by Sheriff Carrey and almost immediately taken to the Brent farm to
make their inquiries. Mrs. Brent is overly protective of her daughter, Julie’s
haunted remembrances. These are cut short by Walter’s arrival, shotgun in clenched
fist, vowing there will be no trial for the man who raped and murdered his
child because he intends to shoot him dead first. Alerted to the assailant’s
nearby presence, Jim chases after Walter through ankle-deep drifts. Unlike the
novel, the identity of the rapist is delayed in the movie; a fleeting glimpse
of someone (or something) tumbling out of a pine-needled treetop adding to the
suspense of what director, Nicholas Ray has graphically conceived as more the blood-thirsty
‘animal’, rather than a ‘manhunt’. Jim and Walter pick up the scent in a nearby
town; commandeering one of the local’s cars to make chase. Alas, the winding
roads are slippery with freshly packed snow. Jim loses control and the car
plummets down a steep ravine, becoming lodged between several trees. Now, Jim
and Walter follow freshly made footsteps in the snow to an isolated farmhouse
owned by Mary Malden.
Given Ida
Lupino’s name gets top billing, it is more than a little disheartening she only
occupies the last twenty-eight minutes of our story. As it turns out, Mary
Malden is the elder sister of the accused, Danny. Though blinded in more recent
years by an undisclosed affliction, Mary initially lies to Walter and Jim about
having seen anyone matching the description of the man they are searching for,
and, whose footsteps they have managed to track back to her farmhouse. Knowing
Danny is not on the farm at present, Mary allows Jim and Walter to search the house
and grounds; a rather idiotic disclosure since it does not take very long for
Walter to discover Danny’s boots and other clothes belonging to a man kept in
an upstairs bedroom. Mary suggests Danny has gone away to a neighboring county.
Although neither Jim nor Walter believes her story, Jim is at least – and
rather uncommonly – sympathetic. As night falls, Mary offers Jim and Walter to
spend the night warming by the fireplace in her living room. They gratefully
accept and, weary from their day-long trek across the frozen wilderness, easily
succumb to the sway of a good night’s sleep. However, by the steely grey break
of dawn, Mary quietly dresses and sneaks out of the house undetected to a
nearby barn with a hidden storm cellar, forewarning her brother he must turn
himself in to the police. While Mary fears for Danny’s safety, she
instinctually believes Jim will not harm him. In fact, Mary had Jim give his
word of honor to protect Danny from Walter.
Meanwhile, Jim
and Walter stir inside the house. As Danny makes a break to escape over a
nearby mountain range of craggy boulders, Walter makes chase, followed by Jim.
All three begin to scale a very steep incline; Walter repeatedly thwarted from
blasting Danny with his shotgun. Nevertheless, tragedy strikes. Danny loses his
footing near the top and plunges from a rugged precipice to his death; his
bloodied body recovered by Walter who, seemingly with all venom departed him, now
carries Danny’s lifeless body back to Mary’s farm. Initially holding Jim responsible
for Danny’s death, Mary cannot surrender her feelings for Jim entirely. He, in
turn, finds it increasingly impossible to forget her once he has returned to
his old inner city beat. Mary’s words about loneliness echo from within.
Indeed, Jim’s punishment has proven a cathartic experiences on several levels;
chiefly, in being able to recognize his own pitilessness as filtered through
Walter Brent’s manic bloodlust for Danny Malden. Unexpectedly, Jim returns to
the farm after only a few days. He finds Mary at home, forgiving and what is
more, much yearning for his touch. The two embrace and share in a tear-stained
kiss.
Despite this
somewhat anticipated finale, On
Dangerous Ground never unravels into the predictable ‘happy’ ending meant to satisfy the Hollywood tradition. Instead,
it rather cautiously experiments with a somewhat restrained, if slightly more
hopeful conclusion for these two protagonists we have come to, if not love, than
intuitively recognize as perfectly paired soulmates. Part of this successful
conveyance is owed to Ida Lupino’s staggering professionalism as an actress.
Undeniably varied and intuitive, Lupino lends ballast to the story without
fermenting stolidity. The Brit-born Lupino’s career as an actress has entered
its third and final phase with this movie; moved away from the self-assured,
tough-as-nails vixens, vamps and whisky-voiced/chain-smoking saloon singers to
be found in films like High Sierra
and Road House; hard dames,
invariably clawing their way up the ladder in a man’s world. But as the blind
girl Lupino has assuaged into an unusual and sustained martyrdom for which too
many a great actresses of this period were increasingly brought to heel.
Yet, Lupino’s
Mary Malden is not the put-upon victim or the innocent of this piece; rather,
an intuitive and stabilizing voice of reason. Her initial deceptions are mired
in bittersweet and thoroughly flawed nepotism; her resultant confession of love
made to Jim not with teary-eyed gratitude, but level-headed appreciation for
having found a man just as scarred as she; someone to take the place of her
lost brother; someone she can ‘cure’ and look after, who in turn will look
after her. While Mary initially senses ‘no pity’ in Jim’s voice she is
nevertheless able to detect something of his internalized torment; offering a
way out of this labyrinth on her own terms. Lupino, who would go on to establish her own
production company – The Filmmakers – and have a rewarding career as both director
and producer in television, does some of her best acting in On Dangerous Ground, and, such a
genuine pity we do not get to see more of her. To be sure, Lupino was not pleased
with On Dangerous Ground; a movie
she regarded as rife with excellent production values but exceptionally weak
and very uneven in its storytelling. There is something to this. For although the
picture possesses some striking noir elements as well as salient departures
from the formula, Bezzerides’ screenplay is a somewhat mangled affair; the
inner city first act and penultimate cross country chase/finale, seemingly excised
from two irreconcilable plots with only the aforementioned, abridged scene
between Robert Ryan’s Jim and Ed Begley’s Capt. Brawley to explain away the
abrupt disconnect.
However, no
picture with Ida Lupino or Robert Ryan is entirely a washout and certainly,
with the two of them together, On
Dangerous Ground is far from becoming an artistic failure. In fact, in more
recent times, On Dangerous Ground
has been ‘rediscovered’ by fans,
increasingly come to regard it with considerable interest as a minor work by
Nicholas Ray. This still doesn’t make it a classic in my opinion. But it does
add badly needed cache to a storyline otherwise afflicted with some stifling
inconsistencies, effectively assuaged by the Ryan/Lupino screen presence and
chemistry, and, their performances given within. And Ryan, whose career thrived
on variations of unrepentant bastards and bigots, gives an unlooked-for and
affecting performance. He lets Jim Wilson’s extreme mental anguish show in an
emotionally charged and frequently heartbreaking performance; panged, powerful
and prophetic; a prelude, even, to all those anti-heroes to emerge decades
later throughout the 1970’s. We get disturbing shades of a basically good man
being pressed dangerously close to the edge of his abilities; someone for whom
the fog of daily living has already begun to cloud his own moral clarity. Like
so many crusaders, Ryan’s conflicted cop wants ‘justice for all’. Yet, increasingly he cannot discern between
evenhandedness and one-man vigilantism. As with sanity and its counterpoint,
there is a fine line of distinction between these polar opposites that Jim appears
dangerously close to transgressing on more than one occasion.
Before
embarking upon a critique of this Blu-ray, we must sincerely pause, doff our
caps and give thanks to the Warner Archive (WAC) for performing what can only
be described as a minor miracle. When On
Dangerous Ground was released to DVD in 2004 as part of Warner Home Video’s
noir box set the results left a good deal to be desired; chiefly, because the
elements employed to master the DVD then were several generations removed from
the original camera negative and suffered greatly from a barrage of built-in
artifacts; flicker, exaggerated grain, low contrast, age-related dirt and
scratches, some aggravated edge enhancement, and, a curious ‘greenish’ telecine
tint. In short, the DVD was a mess and rightfully cause for considerable
outrage among fans. Well, prepare for one of the biggest revelations you are ever
likely to encounter in hi-def, because WAC’s newly remastered Blu-ray is, in a word,
sumptuous; remastered in 4K from original nitrate elements. In the past, I have been glowing with
compliments paid to WAC. And this disc, like virtually all others gone before
it, unequivocally proves when it comes to very deep catalog releases in hi-def,
there are really only two companies in competition: Warner Bros. and Sony/Columbia.
Even more so, I have to give it to Warner in 2016 for mining their nuggets and
hidden treasures with the due diligence we had once come to expect from every
major studio in DVD’s glory days, but today, is as rare as finding four-leaf
clovers a plenty, sprouting from the heads of unicorns.
WAC’s decision
to return to an original camera negative housed at the Library of Congress is
owed formidable kudos; first, because it was a costly endeavor for a movie,
arguably, few outside the die-hard noir community have ever heard of (let us be
blunt here – a commercial flop, long obscured by shoddy available prints,
infrequently shown on late night television), and second, because of the time-consuming
‘restoration’ process required to resurrect this movie from its own very ‘dangerous
ground’. The results speak for
themselves: a simply gorgeous 1080p image, so richly detailed it easily
extracts all of the well-dressed B&W imagery captured by cinematographer
extraordinaire, George E. Diskant. Tonal
balance in the grayscale is exquisite. I was stunned to see such minute
textures, the crystalized snow trampled underfoot looking so distinct and real
it might just as well have sent a chill to fill the room. The mono 2.0 DTS
audio is another cause for cheer; Bernard Herrmann’s score full of
unanticipated bombast; dialogue front and center, achieved with unexpected
razor-sharp clarity.
This is what great Blu-ray mastering is all about, folks! Warner has also ported over an
informative audio commentary by film historian and author, John Erickson. Bottom
line: I don’t know how anyone cannot include this release as one of their
top-tier pre-Christmas orders. In an era where far too many studios have
discounted their illustrious past, licensing subpar 1080p dreck to third party
distributors merely to make a quick buck, or virtually ignoring their past
altogether, we must continue to praise, give thanks and encourage Warner Bros.
to do more of the same. They have already proven they know better than their
competition. Classics on physical media sell – period! Classics restored on
Blu-ray sell even better. So, buy today and treasure forever.
FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)
3.5
VIDEO/AUDIO
5+
EXTRAS
1
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