Old Wave

I can't say I'm a big fan of Orson Welles. Of course, "Citizen Kane" is one of the great achievements of cinema and I love it every time I see it. Then again, I was bored during "The Magnificent Ambersons." And while there is a lot to like about THE STRANGER (1946), Welles' Nazi-hunting noir that is often listed among his best, it ain't great. As a director, he's technically brilliant, but his features can be condescending and emotionally shallow.

The Guild Cinema's annual summer film-noir festival has made me a grudging fan of the genre. But I wear a different cap when I take in noir; I have to work harder to suspend reality. I don't like to suspend reality. I want to be entertained by a believable story. That's why I don't spend a lot of time on Golden Age or pioneering cinema; things didn't really get interesting until Brando showed up (or Robert Mitchum, if you prefer) and the French and American New Waves kicked in. I don't need sweetness and light, CGI and thrills; give me harrowing Romanian abortion dramas; uncomfortable family comedies; modern-day Shakespearean/Sopranoan personal tragedies; French coming-of-age heartbreakers; modern American indie slices of life.

Noir does get a pass, but those films rarely play in the same league as the great films. And by those rules, "The Stranger" can't hold a candle to "Citizen Kane." I won't ruin "The Stranger" here; but suffice it to say that a key plot device that sets up the climax of the film is so ludicrous that the subsequent denouement just can't be taken seriously as high art. It's shtick, and it's a cheap way to set up a fantastic feat of camera work.

Up to that point, "The Stranger" is a serviceable simmering postwar page-turner. Welles stars (there's his first problem) as Charles Rankin, a professor with a secret who gets a visit from the former comrade of a Nazi war criminal on the day of Rankin's wedding to rich, lovely Mary Longstreet (an OK Loretta Young). Nazi hunter Wilson (Edward G. Robinson) is on that comrade's trail and follows along to the uber-American town of Harper, Conn., where he keeps an eye on Rankin.

As noted above, Welles is not a strong leading man here, and he and Young have weak chemistry, despite a few passionate kisses that must have caused quite the blushing among viewers during its original run. Robinson blows everyone away with a sharp, sarcastic turn as Wilson. He and Billy House, who plays the pharmacy owner and checkers champ Mr. Potter, especially sparkle in their moments of shared repartee.

This movie must have felt fresh and exciting in 1946. (It was one of Welles' biggest hits, perhaps because of the theme and the timing of the movie's release, and the goodwill earned from "Kane" and "Ambersons.") Folks who study film can better discuss the expert staging and camera work, but Welles creates a flow and sense of real-life movement by breaking from traditional sets and blocking, much like modern "walking and talking" TV shows now do. Much of the action intersects in the town pharmacy, and Welles captures the idiosyncrasies of small-town life well. I'm guessing he was ahead of his time with his keen eye in calling out a quaint cultural development like the rise of the self-serve store.

In that sense, I tend to squirrel Welles away in a cubbyhole with Quentin Tarantino. That may be an odd pairing, but both emerged early on with groundbreaking, rules-defying epics that signaled a new language of film; but they had difficulty recapturing that magic in subsequent efforts and instead indulged their own eccentricities. "The Stranger" is a solid effort by Welles.  It is excellent second-class cinema.

GRADE: B

A shout-out to the new Albuquerque Film Club, which is hosting monthly screenings of classics (and follow-up discussion sessions) at the Guild Cinema.