In the period immediately after Word War Two there was this massive divergence of moods in cinema, with fantastical escapism on the one hand, and dark pessimism on the other. This was particularly pronounced at MGM. Although the Arthur Freed unit was carrying on the studio's reputation for dreamlike extravagance, new production chief Dore Schary was also pushing a line of frank and gritty "message" movies, many of which dealt directly with the recent conflict.
Act of Violence runs like a kind of dark flipside to the sublimely poignant Best Years of Our Lives, which won Best Picture for MGM a few years earlier. The director is Fred Zinnemann, who would later film a couple of Best Pictures himself, but at this point was still honing his craft in the B-unit. As in the handful of other features he had made up to this point, his primary concern seems to be creating atmosphere and tension through use of space and lighting. Virtually every shot is filled with streaking shadows and stifling frames, and to be honest this is all laid on a bit too heavily, even if it is very precise. Ironically though, his aim to give the picture this consistent claustrophobic feel means that sometimes he is forced to achieve it more subtly – for example in the shot where Robert Ryan crosses the road in front of the military parade, Zinnemann frames the action neatly with objects and people. The effect is the same but it looks very natural and unforced.
Zinnemann also gets to prove his ability at handling action scenes. This is something directors usually perfect sooner than they do drama, which again is ironic for Zinnemann as he would spend most of his later career making deep dramatic pictures with little action. His staging of drama is coming along here though. He does a lot of long takes in dialogue scenes, where against cinematic convention one actor has their back to the camera whilst talking, thus focusing us on the reactions of the listener. One of the strongest pieces of direction however is the way Zinnemann introduces the two lead characters. We first see Ryan walking from a distance, then closer to, but from behind, we then see he has a gun, and then we finally pan up to his face. We are thus given clues as to the kind of man he is and what he may be capable of before we are allowed to connect with the character. The opposite approach is taken for Van Heflin, who is introduced to us with a big facial close-up, which would have been meaningful to audiences of the day as they would know Heflin and the sort of characters he played. From this point on Zinnemann allows the story to deconstruct Heflin's stereotype and add flesh to Ryan's.
This intelligent focus on actors naturally brings out the best in the performances. Heflin's is strong if a tiny bit overdone at times. He probably relished this chance to show off his range. Ryan sadly doesn't get to do enough with this character, but he has great presence, and that is essentially what his character is for most of the movie – a presence. Mary Astor is great too – another player with fantastic range. I'll also mention Berry Kroeger, who plays the hit-man Johnnie, and was clearly cast as a face to fit the part, yet he does a pretty good acting job as well.
One thing that does link these darker MGM post-war flicks with the studio's lighter upbeat fare is a kind of melodramatic overstatement, which is great in the right place but harms a picture like Act of Violence. In spite of the staccato, atonal intro, the music is largely schmaltzy strings spoiling the sincerity of the dramatic moments. The dialogue is fairly trite and unmemorable. It is mainly the good acting and competent direction which saves this one.
Act of Violence runs like a kind of dark flipside to the sublimely poignant Best Years of Our Lives, which won Best Picture for MGM a few years earlier. The director is Fred Zinnemann, who would later film a couple of Best Pictures himself, but at this point was still honing his craft in the B-unit. As in the handful of other features he had made up to this point, his primary concern seems to be creating atmosphere and tension through use of space and lighting. Virtually every shot is filled with streaking shadows and stifling frames, and to be honest this is all laid on a bit too heavily, even if it is very precise. Ironically though, his aim to give the picture this consistent claustrophobic feel means that sometimes he is forced to achieve it more subtly – for example in the shot where Robert Ryan crosses the road in front of the military parade, Zinnemann frames the action neatly with objects and people. The effect is the same but it looks very natural and unforced.
Zinnemann also gets to prove his ability at handling action scenes. This is something directors usually perfect sooner than they do drama, which again is ironic for Zinnemann as he would spend most of his later career making deep dramatic pictures with little action. His staging of drama is coming along here though. He does a lot of long takes in dialogue scenes, where against cinematic convention one actor has their back to the camera whilst talking, thus focusing us on the reactions of the listener. One of the strongest pieces of direction however is the way Zinnemann introduces the two lead characters. We first see Ryan walking from a distance, then closer to, but from behind, we then see he has a gun, and then we finally pan up to his face. We are thus given clues as to the kind of man he is and what he may be capable of before we are allowed to connect with the character. The opposite approach is taken for Van Heflin, who is introduced to us with a big facial close-up, which would have been meaningful to audiences of the day as they would know Heflin and the sort of characters he played. From this point on Zinnemann allows the story to deconstruct Heflin's stereotype and add flesh to Ryan's.
This intelligent focus on actors naturally brings out the best in the performances. Heflin's is strong if a tiny bit overdone at times. He probably relished this chance to show off his range. Ryan sadly doesn't get to do enough with this character, but he has great presence, and that is essentially what his character is for most of the movie – a presence. Mary Astor is great too – another player with fantastic range. I'll also mention Berry Kroeger, who plays the hit-man Johnnie, and was clearly cast as a face to fit the part, yet he does a pretty good acting job as well.
One thing that does link these darker MGM post-war flicks with the studio's lighter upbeat fare is a kind of melodramatic overstatement, which is great in the right place but harms a picture like Act of Violence. In spite of the staccato, atonal intro, the music is largely schmaltzy strings spoiling the sincerity of the dramatic moments. The dialogue is fairly trite and unmemorable. It is mainly the good acting and competent direction which saves this one.