Robert Ryan, Van Heflin and Janet Leigh Are Embroiled in Zinnemann's Stark Act of Violence

              Among the most exciting and unpredictable entries in the film noir canon, 1948’s Act of Violence from MGM provides a tense, suspenseful viewing throughout a brisk 83-minute running time. Setting a fast-paced, uneasy tone from the outset, wherein only the title of the film is shown (unusual for the time) before jumping into the action, wherein director Fred Zinnemann shows star Robert Ryan retrieving a gun before hopping on a Greyhound bus to the small town of Santa Lisa, California, the audience is quickly drawn into the inventive, hard-boiled screenplay by Robert L. Richards (based on a story by Collier Young) as the fate of the main characters play out, including Ryan’s embittered WWII vet Joe Parkson, his war ally in a POW Camp, Frank Enley (Van Heflin), and Frank’s lovely, supportive wife, Edith (Janet Leigh). Blessed with superior, economical direction by Zinnemann, a pulsating score by Bronislaw Kaper, era-evocative B&W on-location cinematography by lensing master Robert Surtees, and a rich, talented cast of players who are clearly receptive to bringing Zinnemann’s vision to life with conviction and strength, Act of Violence offers one of the most satisfying and hypnotic noirs from the Golden Age of the genre.

For director Zinnemann, who started helming films in 1936, Act would solidify his position as one of the most gifted of the new breed of Hollywood directors, following his breakthrough earlier in 1948 with The Search, filmed in docu-drama style illustrating how effectively Zinnemann could capture a believable sense of time and place while drawing expert performances from his cast, including Montgomery Clift in his first film (although released after his second, the classic Western Red River) and young Ivan Jandl, whom Zinnemann guided to an Oscar nomination and Juvenile Academy Award, respectively, while gaining his first Best Director nod. These traits also loom large in Act, with a consistent tone maintained throughout as the lead figures move about the town’s vicinity, then eventually Los Angeles, and powerful emoting adding much color to proceedings, as Zinnemann unfolds the action in a straightforward, extremely compelling manner that keeps a viewer glued to the screen. Following this outstanding effort, Zinnemann would carefully select works, in the process amassing a stellar lineup for his filmography consisting of such class productions as High Noon, the moving The Member of the Wedding, opting for a challenging musical change-of-pace with 1955’s Oklahoma! (which he had to film twice for two different screening formats), The Nun’s Story, The Sundowners and Best Director Oscar to match Best Picture wins for From Here to Eternity and A Man for All Seasons.

Robert Ryan, a noir staple with an uncanny knack of making unsavory characters identifiable to a viewer, such as in his career defining, Oscar nominated work as a bigoted brute in the previous year’s Crossfire, is mesmerizing to watch in Act, wherein he utilizes a seething, sweaty intensity he deftly mixes with a serene but menacing quality that ranks him among the most unique and unnerving figures in noir. With Ryan firmly in control of the role and carefully adding dimension to Joe, one understands the character’s motives, even if they may be misguided and ominous, while wondering just how far the vet is willing to go to avenge the wrong he believes he’s been dealt; with ultra convincing Ryan in the part a viewer watches with trepidation, hoping Joe doesn’t let his wrathful attitude run rampant. Starting in films in 1940 after being a star boxer in college, then traversing around in different jobs before deciding on an acting career, Ryan gained an RKO contract then played leads and second leads in a variety of films before his Crossfire breakthrough, including work opposite Fred Astaire in The Sky’s the Limit and elevated to the male lead costarring with Ginger Rogers in Tender Comrade. Following Act, Ryan would maintain a steady career in films as a hero, anti-hero and villain in a wide array of films, with highlights including his venal, crafty cads in The Naked Spur and Bad Day at Black Rock; more sympathetic work as a down-on-his-luck boxer in The Set-Up and endearingly comic and touching in God’s Little Acre; out-of-left field casting as John the Baptist in 1961’s King of Kings before returning to more unholy character territory with Billy Budd; scoring 1960’s hits in rugged tough guy mode via The Professionals, The Dirty Dozen and The Wild Bunch, then making in a fine final bow in films via stellar work in Eugene O’Neill’s The Iceman Cometh, released posthumously in 1973 along with The Outfit and Executive Action, after his death the previous year at 63, with Iceman garnering a Best Actor Award from the National Board of Review (in a tie with Al Pacino for Serpico) and a citation from The National Society of Film Critics, a fitting tribute to an actor of the first rank who seldom received the hosannas he was eminently worthy of during a rich screen career.

Top-billed Van Heflin does an admirable job of fully enacting Captain Frank Enley’s cowardice towards Joe as the latter stalks him around the Santa Lisa and Los Angeles areas and the guilt Frank holds concerning his decisions as a leader during the war. In an era when most male starring roles suggested an altruistic, heroic character, as with Ryan Heflin was more interested in showing the flaws inherent in his roster of edgy characters, and his work in Act offers one of his most penetrating portrayals as a desperate man ill-at-ease with his conscious and his place in society. The tension he and Ryan create concerning the conflict between Joe and Frank builds to a stunning confrontation, with both talents showcasing thespian playing of the highest order, leading to a satisfying and surprising final act. Starting in films (after work on Broadway) in 1936’s A Woman Rebels opposite Katharine Hepburn, Heflin who go on to star on stage with Hepburn in the hit The Philadelphia Story before making his mark in films during the 1940’s, including on Oscar-winning breakthrough with Johnny Eager and excellent work as an anti-hero (or downright swine) in other noirs such as The Strange Love of Martha Ivers and causing Joan Crawford even more grief than she usually encountered onscreen in 1947’s Possessed, while also raising his profile playing more likable gents in lavish big-budget MGM productions such as Till the Clouds Roll By, Green Dolphin Street and a big one in 1948, the Technicolor, all-star The Three Musketeers. After his standout 1940s in film, Heflin would continue as a reliable star character actor, with deft work in such high-profile movies as Shane, Battle Cry, 3:10 to Yuma and, just before his passing in 1971, one of the more impactful performances in the 1970 blockbuster Airport.

Janet Leigh, fresh to films after being discovered by Norma Shearer via a photograph, then promoted to stardom by MGM with her fine debut as the lovely heroine in 1947’s The Romance of Rosy Ridge, comes through with the best work of her young career as Edith, Frank’s initially bewildered, concerned and loyal wife. As evident in Ridge, Leigh had an intuitive gift for sincere, emotionally grounded screen acting, while being able to suggest both wholesomeness and tougher, more mature aspects not normally seem in a sweet ingenue role. These traits lend heft to her earnest, ultra-focused work in Act, with Edith becoming central to the action and gaining audience empathy as she stands up to Joe in admirable fashion once she grasps the danger he represents to her home and family, then seeks out Frank to forthrightly determine what exactly went on between the two adversaries during the war. Leigh always appears completely ‘in the moment’ in her demanding scenes with Ryan and Heflin, granting Edith a strength, dimension and humanity that is rarely seen by a relative novice to acting. After Act, Leigh would score immediately again with another endearing, carefully modulated performance as Meg in the Technicolor Little Women, followed by one of the more successful leading lady runs in the 1950s and 1960s, with standout work in hits such as The Naked Spur, Pete Kelly’s Blues, The Vikings, Bye, Bye Birdie and Harper to her credit, as well as prominent roles in three major all-time classics: returning to noir territory via 1958’s Touch of Evil, Oscar-nominated as Marion Crane, the most famous and unfortunate motel guest in film history, in Psycho¸ then equally riveting in the small but key role as the somewhat hard-to-perceive but magnetic Rosie in 1962’s The Manchurian Candidate. After her heyday, Leigh would focus more on family from the 1970s onward, including watching daughter Jamie Lee rise to success in 1978’s Halloween then, after appearing with Jamie Lee in 1980’s The Fog, joining her 20 years later for a lovely cameo in one of the Halloween franchise’s better sequels, before passing in 2004 at age 77. 

                Mary Astor, in the midst of playing a series of warm motherly roles for MGM (most notably in Meet Me in St. Louis) after amassing a rich filmography over 20-plus years that included Don Juan, Red Dust, Dodsworth, Midnight, The Palm Beach Story and a remarkable 1941 with singular work in The Maltese Falcon and an eventual Oscar for The Great Lie, does a vivid against-type turn as Pat, a hard-boiled but compassionate prostitute who talks about getting her “kicks” but tries to help out the lost Frank once he hits the skids. Phyllis Thaxter also shows up to good effect as Ann, Joe’s girlfriend pleading with him to not waste his life. Thaxter works well with Ryan and helps illustrates the Joe isn’t completely unsympathetic due to his relationship with Ann, wherein a bit of gentleness can be discerned under his gruff exterior. Rounding out the top cast, Connie Gilchrest brings her likable openness to Martha, the Enley’s next-door neighbor, while Taylor Holmes and the aways-menacing Berry Kroeger help darken the movie’s noir shade as two ignoble types Frank meets through Pat.

As was the case with many top noirs of the period, upon release Act of Violence witnessed lukewarm audience reaction, although some critics noted the quality involved in an MGM production that chose to forego the studio’s typical gloss while illustrating a harsh crime thriller in a realistic, mature manner. Over the years Act’s merit has gained attention from film historians recognizing the unique storyline as one of noir’s most forceful, and the contributions of Zinnemann, Ryan, Heflin, Leigh and a supreme supporting cast and crew ranking with the best work of their careers. The prime noir has recently been given a splendid presentation on Blu-ray from Warner Archive, resulting in the movie looking the best it ever has on physical media. Those wishing for a key example of 1940’s L.A. (and environs) based noir with an intriguing WWII twist thoroughly embroiling a viewer into the plot machinations will not want to avoid this penetrating Act of Violence. 

And a fond farewell to June Lockhart, who passed on October 23rd at age 100. An iconic figure in 1950’s and 1960’s television for her idealized mothers in Lassie and Lost in Space, preceding and followed by many additional appearances in the medium into the 2000s, the modern and progressive-minded Lockhart also made her mark on stage and in movies during her lengthy career. Starting on stage at 8, then eventually winning a Tony for Best Broadway Newcomer in 1948, Lockhart made her film debut at thirteen with 1938’s A Christmas Carol, then found her way into several major 1940’s cinematic offerings, including playing opposite Bette Davis in All That Heaven Allows, Sergeant York, gracing the holiday season perennial Meet Me in St. Louis, The Yearling and, inevitably, 1945’s Son of Lassie, over a decade before her 1958-64 run in the t.v. series. R.I.P. to a talented, lovely and durable presence on screen, June Lockhart.