Play Dirty: André De Toth

To read this review, go to: http://theretroset.com/play-dirty-with-detoth/.

7/10

Man in the Saddle: André de Toth

André de Toth's Man in the Saddle could have been a fascinating film about two rival ranchers; an unstoppable force meeting an unmovable object, devastating everything in their wake. I loved how the beginning of the film made the bad rancher seem like the good guy by showing him celebrating his upcoming wedding while the hero, played by Randolph Scott, was introduced half-drunk and mean-looking. But unfortunately they had to dilute the central struggle with a love triangle. I adored how the villain's motivation for terrorizing neighboring ranchers he shared territory with could be boiled down to "I always completely own everything I own...I don't go in halfway." But adding the woman diluted his insane megalomania into something somewhat tangible. It doesn't help that the film is mired in truly unfortunate day-for-night cinematography and woefully out-of-place comedic relief in the form of a mincing Mexican cook.

5/10

The Indian Fighter: André de Toth

André de Toth's The Indian Fighter is a proto-Revisionist Western that portrays American cavalrymen as bigoted, settlers as greedy opportunists willing to enslave Native Americans with alcohol in exchange for gold, and the Native Americans as completely justified in their fury and anger towards the White Man. Even its hero, the eponymous "Indian fighter" Johnny Hawks, an ex-soldier from the Civil War tasked with escorting a group of settlers through Sioux territory, is depicted as self-centered (he abandons his wagon train so he can "rendezvous" with an Indian woman) and dangerously possessive (early scenes where he effectively forces himself on the same Indian woman while the soundtrack blares romantic music are extremely cringe-worthy). At times I found myself wondering if De Toth was deliberately poking holes into the persona of the Western genre equivalent of the Great White Hunter. The Indian Fighter, with all of its cynicism, tasted like a bitter pill. But it does contain some incredible cinematography. I pointed out one fantastic example of the film's cinematography over here. But another is an Indian attack on a cavalry fort late in the film where the combatants seem to smash against the fort's towering walls that reach up and up into the sky. The film still suffers from yellowfaced actors and painful stereotypes such as Johnny Hawks being able to defeat Native Americans in one-on-one fights (thereby indicating that White Men are better at being Indians than actual Indians). But The Indian Fighter is a fascinating, and arguably important, film.

7/10

Slattery's Hurricane: André De Toth

It is my professional opinion as a film scholar and critic that André De Toth's Slattery's Hurricane is not just a drama, but a full-blown film noir. First, almost the entire film is told in flashback as the protagonist, former World War II navy pilot Will Slattery (Richard Widmark), narrates and provides bitter, cynical commentary on his actions. Second, the film involves characters who have been left adrift psychologically after World War II. Having been unfairly passed over for recognition for heroic actions in the Pacific Theater, Slattery is angry and callous. He works as a pilot transporting "candy bars" for a corrupt tycoon. In reality, he is transporting illegal drugs. But he doesn't mind turning a blind eye to the whole thing. As Lynyrd Skynyrd once said, "Don't ask me no questions and I won't tell you no lies." So we have the self-reflexive narrative techniques of film noir and a brooding film noir protagonist. I've seen movies widely accepted as film noir that have fulfilled fewer criteria of the genre. Anyhow, the film charts Slattery's redemption as both a pilot and a man after he strikes up an affair with his friend's wife and becomes explicitly involved with the drug trade. The film is framed by Slattery heroically sacrificing himself to fly a navy plane into the heart of a hurricane so that local authorities can chart the storm's development and evacuate threatened areas. But the film's greatest weakness is that it ultimately cops out of punishing Slattery. Against impossible odds he survives his suicide mission, is forgiven for his involvement in the drug trade, and is accepted as a hero. So the ending isn't emblematic of film noir. But that shouldn't discount all of the other indicators.

6/10

Dark Waters: André De Toth

[Warning: Spoilers Ahead]

The strength of André De Toth's Dark Waters can be explained by its sinister atmosphere and its director's brilliant stylistic flourishes. This is a film that is meant to be watched and felt on a basic, primal level. For when you take the time to examine the actual plot, the film falls apart. The film follows a young woman named Leslie suffering from intense psychological anguish after watching her parents drown when the Germans sunk their ship while on the high seas. Her doctor recommends that she travel to rural Louisiana where she can be with her estranged aunt and uncle and recuperate. But her relatives aren't what they seem and soon she is submitted to a devious plot to gaslight her. It's revealed that her "relatives" are imposters and that they want to drive her mad so they can get money...through some system which is either feebly explained or ignored altogether. Here's my question: if they are willing to outright murder her by the end of the film, why didn't they do just that at the start? Why couldn't they have thrown her into a quicksand pit the moment she arrived and claim that she got lost in the swamp? But despite this fumbling plot, Dark Waters is an engrossing film. De Toth's methods are those of restraint and almost subliminal stylistics. Take an early scene where Leslie drives up to their New Orleans mansion for the first time. Most of it is done in a medium long-shot with no edits. Creating a strange, detached atmosphere, the audience is made to feel like a bystander instead of merely a voyeur. John J. Mescall, the noted cinematographer of genre classics like The Black Cat (1934) and Bride of Frankenstein (1935), brings both his claustrophobic interiors and dark, muggy exteriors to brilliant life. Additional sequences involving local French Cajuns may be unnecessary for the narrative, but they give the film an additional boost of energy and joy. They help make the audience feel like they aren't watching a low-budget potboiler. But there is no sin in meager means, particularly for a film as inventive and hypnotic as Dark Waters.

7/10

Pitfall: André De Toth

One of the cornerstones of film noir is a protagonist haunted by a past that won't leave him or her alone.  But in André De Toth's Pitfall, the protagonist is haunted not by his past, but by his present.  John Forbes lives the American Dream: he has a good job, a lovely wife, a beautiful son, and a pretty house in a nice suburban neighborhood.  The problem is that he hates it.  Forbes feels trapped by the 9-5 routine and his mundane life.  But salvation comes in Mona Stevens, a client for Forbes' insurance company.  Stevens received many gifts from an embezzler now behind bars.  When Forbes went to investigate the gifts, he fell in love with Mona and started an affair with her.  However, a jealous ex-cop and her old boyfriend, recently bailed from prison, want Forbes gone from the picture.  Pitfall examines the near-destruction of the American nuclear family that would become so stereotypical of the following decade after the film's release.  In a sense, it predates films like American Beauty and Revolutionary Road which delighted in seeing just how far such a family could bend before breaking.  The problem is that in Pitfall, the family doesn't break.  It suffers damage, particularly due to the film's inevitably violent climax.  But the family stays together. Why? Out of some sense of responsibility?  Out of a fear of not fitting in and creating a scandal?  Whatever the reason, the film's end seems disingenuous and indicative of the very culture that the aforementioned films tried to examine. 

6/10

Crime Wave: André De Toth

Now HERE'S a film that should be taught in film classes to audiences of wide-eyed young film-makers.  Crime Wave is a marvelous film and an exercise of cinematic simplicity.  Notice, I didn't use the word minimalism.  The two words are not the same.  Crime Wave, clocking in at only 73 minutes, is one of the leanest and tightest crime films that I have ever witnessed.  Not a line nor a shot is wasted as director André De Toth dives into this dark world of crime.  Steve Lacey is a reformed ex-con who wants nothing more than to live out the rest of his days quietly with his wife.  However, a bunch of his old "associates" force him back into the life after one of them is mortally wounded in a gas station stick-up and comes to his home for medical aid.  After he dies, Lacey calls his parole officer who notifies the police.  The police are determined to somehow pin the murder, and the robbery, on Lacey.  "Once a crook, always a crook," is their logic.  But Lacey's parole officer manages to get him released after he is wrongfully arrested.  However, things are even further complicated when two other crooks force him at gunpoint to participate in a bank robbery.  If he doesn't comply, they will kill his wife.  Crime Wave's plot is hard to summarize because it contains so little fluff.  Indeed, the only way to really discuss the film is to give a play-by-play of the entire thing.  I have tried to give the shortest description of the plot here.  And still, I feel like I've only described a fraction of the story.  Crime Wave is both a nail-biting thriller and a devastating film noir that proves that sometimes life just won't let you walk away from your past.

9/10