American writer Holly Martins arrives in post-WWII Vienna and is dismayed to discover that his childhood friend Harry Lime has died. Holly, suspicious of the details surrounding Lime’s alleged death (witnesses said he was struck by a car while crossing the street) begins his own investigation into Lime’s passing. He floats between Lime’s former colleagues, love interest, and the unsympathetic British occupying police force. The later insisted that Lime’s death was justice, insinuating that Lime was involved in a lethal game of racketeering. When Holly begins to piece the real story together, he finds help where it seemed most unlikely—and a faces a foe he would never expect.
This was one of those films I knew nothing about going in and finished really liking. In fact, the more I dwelled on it, the more I realized I REALLY liked it! Though subject to many of the campy film-noir tropes I tend to reject, the plot was cunning and the characters had charm. I felt like Joseph Cotten’s Holly Martins had this modern sensibility I could keep up with and Orson Welles played an excellent villain. The film is going on 71 and still manages to play with audience expectations brilliantly, twisting perceptions of who can be trusted. It was a real magic trick. Throw in the unique music and the on-location scenery of post-WWII Vienna and this film felt like one-of-a-kind.
A weird film you might not have heard of, but I can’t recommend it enough.