'Touch of Evil' lacks a soul
Quick Info
| Title | Director | Performers | Links |
|---|---|---|---|
| Touch of Evil (1959) | Orson Welles | Charlton Heston, Orson Welles, Janet Leigh | Letterboxd, IMDB, Wikipedia, JustWatch |
Commentary
Touch of Evil tells the story of Mexican prosecutor Miguel Vargas who must fight against the corrupt Police Captain Hank Quinlan. Vargas is played by Charlton Heston in a very unfortunate brownface. Quinlan is played by Orson Welles himself. Touch of Evil was always compelling to cinephiles. As I recall, the sophistication of its staging was greatly appreciated by my peers in film school. I don't recall many comments about the vivacity of its characters, or how engaging and exciting its story really was. People raved mostly about the camera work.
There is no greater example of impressive filmmaking than the first scene, which follows the protagonists through a Mexican city near the American border. They walk along a broad street that is also inhabited by a group of seedy characters. They circle the couple like reptiles suddenly awoken by the smell of fresh meat. The sequence take1 is long and intricate, requiring the operation of a large crane (as there were no drones in 1958), and the coordinated motion of multiple actors, extras, vehicles, several crew members, and pieces of equipment. I wouldn't be surprised if the first three and a half minutes of Touch of Evil required as much money, time, and effort as a quarter of the entire film. Was it worth it? That is up for debate, but the intentions here go beyond mere affectation. The well-orchestrated movements direct our gaze. They elicit the perception that we are entering a living world. If done right, we should feel that this fictional world exceeds the confines of the frame, as we can clearly see that it is the camera that pursues the objects and not the other way around. That is the goal at least.
Touch of Evil is sophisticated and complex, with a style that might be described as exaggerated, pompous, and a bit tiresome. Like a writer who is in love with their thesaurus. In many ways, this is meta-discourse, having more to say about film culture than reality. The corruption in this world feels like a pastiche -- a mixture of stereotypes that fail to compose an engaging whole. My personal impression is that it does not jump out of the celluloid, as the ghostly presence of the author is too noticeable for that to occur. I wonder if much of this film's praise comes from a cerebral appreciation of its technical prowess, as opposed to a more straightforward enjoyment of its narrative.
As seen below, the use of a narrower lens aperture permits the focus to be on the farthest point in the frame, allowing for expressive shots that are both aesthetically pleasing and packed with information. This is sometimes called a "deep depth of field".
Here's another shot that reinforces Welle's predilection for complexity and flair. The "frame within a frame" is a well-known cinematography technique. By intensifying the sense of depth, it drives the audience's gaze, adding to the illusion of freedom and participation. Here, Welles uses the seductive legs of an exotic dancer to guide us into the subworld of a seedy nightclub.
It would be futile to deny the genius of Orson Welles and his place in film history. That said, I must make a personal confession: circuitous camera work doesn't excite me all that much anymore. I get it, you can command a crew of a hundred ants to make every single one of your shots uniquely detailed. But artistic restraint is almost as important as talent.
Back in college, I came up with the concept of "Christmas Tree" films. Those were movies filled with heavy, unnecessary ornaments that were likely to make them fall. I am not saying that Touch of Evil is a Christmas Tree movie, but, in my exploration of film noir, I have grown to appreciate the harshness and simplicity of the genre. "Real" noir, or, at the very least, the kind of noir I am fond of right now, looks for inspiration in the traumas of World War I and the treacherous streets of America in the years after the economic crash of 1929.
In Touch of Evil, Orson Welles provides an immoderate amount of film noir motifs and visuals to guarantee its place in the genre. However, maybe because it is a later noir, it anticipates several distinguishing marks of neo noir. As a referential genre, neo noir is a love letter to film noir and cinema itself. Touch of Evil approaches this territory of parody and homage. If it were released one year later, there would be abundant discourse about how much of a departure from the original genre it is.
Among other things, the film's overabundance of penumbra and chiaroscuro, along with a string of overstated noir tropes, puts it closer to neo noir such Coen Brothers' The Man Who Wasn't There (2001) than to quintessential film noir such as Double Indemnity (1944) or The Big Combo (1955). With no prejudice to the enjoyment one may get from the pure appreciation of its technical elements, Touch of Evil represents a clean break from the mean streets of America. What you get is a stylish simulacrum. But it's an Orson Welles simulacrum. You could do a lot worse.
Score
Score as film noir: 3 out of 5.
Score as a film in general: 4 out of 5.
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