ANGEL FACE: Blu-ray (RKO, 1952) Warner Archive
A film whose critical estimation
knows no common ground, falling somewhere between total exacerbation and
consideration as one of the top ten American movies ever made (depending on the
source consulted), Otto Preminger’s Angel Face (1952), arguably,
represents the pinnacle of the director’s ‘little gem’ class in picture making,
though I would argue, Preminger would continue to make delicious ‘little gems’
out of his more expansive mid-fifties to early sixties tenure in the biz. Addressing
the elephant in the room: Angel Face is a weird movie. Even as a late
entre into the ‘noir cycle’ of darkly purposed dramas, it holds more than a
handful of moments for which no picture to come under the noir banner before or
since it has been half as ballsy or sickeningly drenched in pure evil, and this
while Hollywood’s self-governing code of ethics was still in command of screen
content. Rumor has it, RKO’s Howard
Hughes hired Preminger expressly to leave the picture’s star, Jean Simmons ill
at ease as she had already made it clear she would not be renewing her studio
contract. If this is so, then there is a curious accounting for Simmons’ hubby,
Stewart Granger, later suggesting Simmons considered the experience of working
with costar, Robert Mitchum a total joy. Perhaps, there was safety in numbers.
Mitchum and Preminger reportedly had a frosty relationship too.
Few would argue Otto Preminger
(borrowed from 2oth Century-Fox just for the occasion) could be a very
demanding artist. There are some who would even go so far as to brand him a
sadist. It is impossible to argue with either assessment as stories told and
re-told ad nauseam about Preminger’s exacting cruelty remain legendary
Hollywood lore. To suggest Preminger’s
distaste for the industry’s faux prudery caused him to repeatedly challenge
time-honored norms and taboos is an understatement. And while his stylistic
efficiency is irrefutable, shooting only what he wanted, known as ‘cutting’ in
the camera, so that the final edit could only be assembled one way, thereby
maintaining creative control, Preminger was as infamous for his authoritarian rule,
brusque persona, and, unpredictable irritability. Much has been written to
infer Preminger relished this largely manufactured identity as a means of
garnering self-aggrandizing publicity, also, to indulge as a ‘lion tamer’ controlling
his artists whom he deemed as pliable putty, fit only to do his bidding.
Interestingly, only a handful of
the stars to appear in Preminger movies actually had problems working with the
director. Those who did (like Lana Turner, walking off the set of Anatomy of
a Murder over her wardrobe, or Paul Schofield, disgruntled after a
read-through of Sain Joan) inevitably quit just as Preminger was warming
up to really lay into his cast and the work. Preminger’s bullying temperament has since
been assessed as arrogant and unpleasant, scary and disgusting. Those who
loathed Preminger were oft driven to tears, or prone to rebuke even his
artistry as their sacrifice to a raving madman. Angel Face was no
exception. There was no love lost between Hughes and Simmons, with whom he had
been unsuccessful to coax a renewal of her studio contract, nor between
Preminger and Simmons (he hated her), or, it seems, Preminger and Hughes. Bad
blood all around. As example: a scene calling for Mitchum to haul off and belt
Simmons across the cheek was repeated by Preminger to the point of exhaustion.
Having had enough, when Preminger shouted at Mitchum “Once more!” the
actor instead turned around and socked Preminger in the chops. Retreating from
the set, in considerable pain and humiliation, Preminger demanded Mitchum be
fired on the spot. Instead, the director was ordered by Hughes back to the set
to continue the day’s shoot. And thus, the work proceeded on RKO’s skinflint
budget (under a million) and breakneck pace (just 18 days shooting schedule),
simply to get the job done.
Angel Face is a
deliciously perverse outing, helmed by Jean Simmons near demonic, yet kitten-faced central turn
as the titular force of evil, her relatively unassuming physical presence, like
Anthony Perkins’ Norman Bates, to mask an utter lack of understanding and psychotic
drive to self-destruct, though only after several lives have been decimated in
her wake. Simmons had, in fact, tried her utmost to get a premature release from
her RKO contract. Knowing her boss, Howard Hughes preferred long-haired leading
ladies, she deliberately cropped her tresses into a bob to dissuade him from
casting her in this movie. Instead, Hughes, via Preminger, embarked upon a
campaign to wreck her chances at success in the part, and derail her spirits
along the way. Mercifully, neither happened. However, the picture was not
altogether well received by the critics, some suggesting Frank S. Nugent, Oscar
Millard and Ben Hecht’s screenplay (based on a tale by Chester Erskine) had
drowned its unusual blend of Freudian psychoanalysis, solid performances and
intermittent discernments in little more than ostentatious drivel, fronted by
some heavy-hitters, gorgeous B&W cinematography a la Harry Stradling Sr.
and, Carroll Clark and Albert S. D'Agostino sumptuous production design. Angel
Face does look unusually lavish for a picture made at RKO during this, its
very sad and foundering finale. Hughes profligate spending, yet inability to resurrect
RKO’s golden era led to the studio ceasing all operations one year later.
In more recent times, Angel Face
has been recognized for both its intensity and uniquely disturbing critique of
what Chicago Reader’s Dave Kehr refers to as the “terrors of sexuality.”
The picture does, in fact, focus on the fatalism in human attraction. Angel Face
begins in earnest. We meet ambulance driver, Frank Jessup (Mitchum) who longs
to squirrel away enough of his earnings to open a repair shop for sportscars
(his passion). While responding to an
emergency call, Frank is introduced to Diane Tremayne (Simmons) a stunningly
handsome heiress, living on a massive estate. An initial spark of interest
between the two leads to several outings and Frank begins to distance himself
from his one-time gal/pal – good girl, Mary Wilton (Mona Freeman). At Diane’s
behest, her father, Charles (Herbert Marshall) offers Frank a job as his chauffeur,
with room and board on the estate. Believing he is moving up in the world,
Frank accepts the offer – one, he will increasingly live to regret.
Not long thereafter, Charles and
his second wife/Diane’s stepmother, Catherine (Barbara O’Neill) are killed when
their car mysteriously malfunctions, causing it to careen backwards down a
steep ravine. As Diane stands to inherit everything, she falls immediately
under the police’s suspicion for sabotaging the car. Frank too gets fingered as
her accomplice, despite having absolutely nothing to do with the crime. To
quell these rumors, though much to Frank’s chagrin, their defense attorney, Fred
Barrett (Leon Ames), convinces the couple to wed. As there is no evidence to
directly link either to the crime of murder, a verdict of ‘not guilty’ is
easily returned by the jury. Shortly thereafter, Frank informs Diane he intends
to dissolve their marriage as it is nothing more than a fraud. Frank also
intends to reconcile with Mary. Alas, she now wants absolutely nothing to do
with him. Aside: smart girl! Meanwhile, Diane, seemingly has had a change of
heart. She confesses to Barrett. She did rig her parents’ automobile and is
responsible for their deaths. Barrett, however, explains, she cannot be tried
twice for murder. Guilty or not, she is a free woman, albeit, one trapped mostly
by her niggling conscience. As Frank has returned to collect his things, Diane
offers to drive him to the train depot. Unaware of Diane’s obsessive need to
possess him for all eternity, and also, that she has rigged this automobile to
commit suicide, Frank accepts the ride. Diane puts the car into gear. It malfunctions
and drives them over the same gorge to their deaths.
Angel Face is a deeply unsettling
experience, if only for its fatalist’s embrace of passion turned into death, the
means to an end for Diane’s very dark and disturbing possessiveness deprived of
basic humanity to counterbalance its absorbingly corrosive quality. In all her
flawed passion, Diane Tremayne is one of the most psychologically complex and
cruelly wicked femme fatales in all of film noir history. Interestingly,
Mitchum’s Frank is neither Diane’s dupe nor the victim of her design as he has
orchestrated his demise by aligning greedy ambition to this self-destructing
minx, erroneously to believe he can tame Diane’s diabolical nature, keep his job,
and advance his own social standing along the way. So, at some base level,
Frank and Diane are ideally suited, and mutually deserving of the fate that
awaits them at the end of Angel Face’s deftly executed 91-mins. Frank’s
only genuine misgiving is that he somehow perceives himself to be a good guy –
albeit, one to make some very bad decisions along the way. Otto Preminger’s
direction is smoothly satisfying. The folly of Preminger’s own toxic manner and
influences while crafting screen excellence is well-documented, if hardly to be
well-regarded by those who knew him. Arguably, he could relate to Diane
Tremayne’s subversive brutality. But Preminger’s browbeating of Jean Simmons on
the set, far from dismantling her concentration, has instead brought out the
most vial and ominous qualities in her alter ego, strangely concocted and even
more queerly to exact an ounce of our empathy, drawn as a blood sample from this
otherwise noxious viper with vinegar coursing intensely through her veins.
Angel Face arrives on
Blu-ray via the Warner Archive. Predictably, it is another quality affair with
nothing to complain about. Harry Strandling Sr.’s deep focus, B&W
cinematography looks exceptional here, with razor-sharp clarity and oodles of
fine detail revealed throughout each and every frame. Close-ups are startling.
Contrast is excellent. There is no hint of age-related damage. What a fabulous-looking
1080p hi-def presentation. The 2.0 DTS mono sounds robust, showing off Dimitri
Tiomkin’s score to its best advantage. The only extra is an audio commentary
from noir aficionado, Eddie Mueller, ported directly from Warner Home Video’s
long-defunct DVD release of Angel Face, back in 1997. But here's the wrinkle. It doesn't appear on the 'remastered' Blu-ray. Instead, it's been included as an 'extra' along with a 720i of the DVD transfer on the Blu-ray disc! Whatever bone-head was responsible for taking up disc space for this irrelevant inclusion - when the audio could have been so easily dumped into the remastered 1080p, should be horse-whipped. Bottom line: Angel
Face is a subversive and bone-chilling movie because it seeks to unearth its
base, often perverse, and frightfully genuine wickedness at the core of all human
sexual desire. WAC’s Blu is a keeper. Highly recommended!
FILM RATING (out
of 5 – 5 being the best)
4
VIDEO/AUDIO
5
EXTRAS
1
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