Film Review
Impact belongs to that strange
mongrel breed of films noirs that attempts to crowbar in as
many disparate elements as possible in an attempt, presumably, to attract the largest possible
viewing audience. Noir purists will hate it because of its cheeky
conflation of genres but it is certainly not the worst example of this
much-maligned off-shoot of noir cinema. The film's director,
Arthur Lubin, had a knack of turning out commercially successful
crowdpleasers, his successes including the first few Abbott and
Costello films and his enormously popular
Phantom of the Opera
(1943).
Impact has all
the ingredients it needed to rake in the dollars at the box office, not
least of which is a supremely attractive cast headed by your archetypal
noir tough guy, Brian Donlevy, and a mouth-wateringly svelte Ella
Raines.
The film's one inescapable weak point is a plot which, whilst put
together with meticulous care, cannot help looking hopelessly
contrived. The pieces all fit into place a little too easily and,
once you've latched onto where the film is heading, the last few reels
offer absolutely no surprises. The abrupt changes in mood that
are grafted on to mirror the overly mechanical plot gyrations are also
uncomfortably jarring and if you were medically qualified to do so
you'd have no difficulty diagnosing that the film suffers from a
pretty extreme form of bipolar disorder. After a slow start which
leaves us guessing as to just how the film is going to pan out (it
could just as equally be a romantic comedy as a crime movie), Lubin
does a fine job of ratchetting up the tension to the film's main
set-piece, a murder attempt followed by a spectacular road
accident. After this near-Hitchcockian highpoint, it is pretty
well downhill all the way.
Which is not to say that the film is not entertaining, far from
it. Next, the film strays into sentimental romance territory, in
one of those idyllic little American towns you dream about but which
probably only exist in films like this. Gone, for the time being,
are the familiar film noir trappings, and Lubin goes for something more
in the way of a social realist style of storytelling. This is the
most authentic and endearing part of the film, a heart-warming slice of
life in a cosy little community where every able-bodied man ends up in
the fire service. You dread the moment when Brian Donlevy and
Ella Raines' understated little romance will be curtailed to make way
for more film noir shenanigans.
Before you know it, it's goodbye Larkspur, Idaho, and hello murky film
noir intrigue yet again as Lupin punches the 'genre hopping' button a
second time. Helen Walker comes into her own now, and proves to
be more cunning and more diabolically evil than we had dared
imagine. With Walker playing the hard-done-by wife for all it is
worth it's not long before poor Mr Donlevy is in the dock, charged with
a murder he did not commit. The only thing that stands between
him and the electric chair is Anna May Wong, who has chosen a very
awkward moment to go A.W.O.L. A major film star and fashion icon
of the 1920s, but now reduced to playing supporting roles in B-movie
fare like this, you can understand Miss Wong's lack of interest in
saving Donlevy's skin. So the film ends with a classic
race-against-time, with Ella Raines teaming up with a loveable Charles
Coburn (playing a cop afflicted with what is probably the most
unconvincing Irish accent in history) to fill out the last reel with a
lot of pretty aimless running about.
In the hands of a less capable director than Arthur Lubin, and with a
less likeable cast,
Impact
could easily have been an unmitigated disaster. Lubin appears to
have recognised the shortcomings in the script and overcame these not
by trying to sweep them under the carpet but by accentuating them -
it's a bit like making a lie plausible by shouting at the top of your
voice. The only character who is remotely credible is Anna May
Wong's Su Lin, which is surprising given that Chinese characters in
Hollywood films of this era tended most of the time to be grotesquely
stereotypical. Do we believe that Brian Donlevy is a hard-nosed
executive type who can be duped by a two-timing wife and fix a car
engine with the merest flick of his wrist, or that Ella Raines earns
her living by selling petrol in a Idaho backwater? Not for a
second.
Impact requires
the spectator to suspend disbelief to an astonishing degree if it is to
avoid collapsing under the weight of its stack of contrivances; it even
dares to foist on us a suspect definition of the word 'impact' that
will cause any self-respecting lexicographer to spit blood. And
yet, despite all these flaws, the film somehow manages to get away with
it. Just don't ask me how.
© James Travers 2014
The above content is owned by filmsdefrance.com and must not be copied.
Film Synopsis
One of America's top industrialists, Walter Williams is blissfully
unaware that his wife Irene has been carrying on an affair with a
younger man, Jim Torrence. Unable to accompany her husband on a
car journey to the airport, Irene persuades him to offer a lift to
Torrence, passing him off as a distant cousin. Choosing his
moment carefully, Torrence strikes Walter with a lug wrench and leaves
him for dead. In his escape in his victim's car, Torrence
collides with an oil tanker and plunges to his death down a ravine, his
body burned beyond recognition. With the world thinking he is
dead, the dazed industrialist ends up in a small town in Idaho, where
he finds work as a service station mechanic and ends up falling in love
with his employer, Marsha Peters. It is Marsha who persuades
Walter that he must present himself to the authorities so that his wife
will not be convicted for his murder. Irene turns the situation
to her advantage and before he knows it Walter is being indicted for
the murder of Jim Torrence. Convinced of Walter's innocence
Marsha joins forces with police detective Quincy to find the evidence
that will clear his name and prove that Irene and Torrence had
conspired to kill him. Their only hope is Walter's Chinese
housemaid, Su Lin, but finding her proves to be much harder than they
had imagined...
© James Travers
The above content is owned by filmsdefrance.com and must not be copied.