New York Confidential (1955)

That's the third or fourth time I see this authentic and unfortunately underrated film noir from the fifties. A true fierce, brutal, and so realistic tale of gangsters where the mob is presented as a big company and their members normal family men, such as Broderick - machine gun talking - Crawford, who is here at his best. So is Richard Conte, here as a cold, ruthless but also attractive killer. Many movie buffs speak of the GODFATHER when they present this feature. Yes, they are not wrong. If you compare with the other gangsters films made before, this one is rather close to the Francis Coppola's films. This movie is for me a little masterpiece, far better than more known gangster movies. Russel Rouse was also a damn good director. I have seen all his films, which I also have in my huge library. I confound this movie with Ken Hughes's JOE MACBETH, made at the same period, and starring Paul Douglas who, a long time ago, I confounded with Broderick Crawford. This another film noir was also a gangster family tragedy. Like this one.

The credits come on and one is really set up for something good. Broderick Crawford, Richard Conte, Anne Bancroft, Onslow Stevens, Marilyn Maxwell, J. Carroll Naish, Barry Kelley, Tom Powers, Mike Mazurki, Celia Lovsky...The film starts with location footage and the stentorian tones of a narrator so you figure you're going to get one of those De Rochemont docudramas or at least a cheapie along the lines of Conte's The Sleeping City which was shot on location here in NYC.No, soon we're on the Goldwyn lot which wouldn't be bad if there were some creative angles or lighting. But no, individual scenes are all harshly lit except for a fist fight when they needed to hide the stunt men (not very well either). Also, there are no dissolves, all scenes end with a fade to black and you half expect to see a commercial.The story structure is no better - two major characters are just written out with no drama to punctuate the exits. The story in itself is promising enough, with hit man Conte imported from Chicago and recruited to remain with Crawford's mob after he neatly disposes of some upstart who causes headlines which "the syndicate" would prefer to avoid.Crawford's daughter Bancroft seems to be falling for Conte, but that goes nowhere. Crawford's girl Marilyn Maxwell is definitely falling for Conte, but that goes nowhere, but hey, at least now the subtext folks have something to read into it. All I saw there was poor writing.Conte's character is fairly bright it seems, then Bancroft uses the word "penchant" and he seems dumbfounded. That reversal happens again at the end of the film, but I won't reveal in what manner. Crawford keeps telling Conte he's brighter than all the other "pigs" he has in his employ who can't even spell their own names. So then, how has Crawford managed to head the East Coast mob and hold off trouble for 20 years if everyone working for him is an idiot? By the way, you will never hear the word "pigs" used so often in 87 minutes unless you're at a hog-calling contest.Worth watching to see so many familiar faces in one film, but as to whether it's worth watching again is another matter. If I do, it won't be soon.

This isn't nearly as bad as it starts out to be or as it sometimes becomes. It has to overcome a couple of weaknesses that are so obvious they cry out for attention.One is the utter absence of any local color. It's all about "New York" but we only see a minute or two of the city in some stock shots under the credits. The film is studio bound and the production design lacks any imagination. All the rooms and offices are cheap and strictly functional. Sometimes the painted backdrop outside the window is presented at the wrong angle and the effect is dizzying because the perspective is askew, as in a de Chirico painting. Speaking of painting, a gang of rival hoods takes a pot shot at the Syndicate Big Wig, Charlie Lupo (Crawford), and just wing him, though the bullet goes through a painting he "paid thirty grand for." I hope it was the one with the two Degas ballerinas because I've checked Degas' ballerinas up close and his pastels are far better than mine ever were, the swine.This was also the period in which J. Edgar Hoover, President For Life of the FBI, was doing his best to convince the public that there was no such thing as a "Mafia" because he didn't want his boys to get too close to all that money. So there is no Mafia here, only "the organization" or "the syndicate." And, Crawford aside, nobody has an Italian name. They have names like Nick Magellan and Johnny Achilles and Whitey.Richard Conte is Nick Magellan and with the revelation of his character the movie picks up pace. He's brought in from Chicago, pulls off a professional hit, and soon works his way up to a position as Crawford's trusted deputy. Crawford's trust is justified. Conte's character is a complex one. He is loyal, polite, well spoken, and plays by the rules. The rules are pretty tough. The Organization always comes first. Crawford made up the rules and suffers for it, as does Conte.There isn't room to spell out the entirety of the plot. It's a crime thriller that puts Crawford, Conte, and Crawford's daughter (Bancroft) through the wringer. Crawford himself is the barking dog that he lapsed into whenever the direction was slack, as it is here. (He was much better elsewhere, as in "All The King's Men.") Conte's character is an honorable man and he plays it with restraint.Poor Anne Bancroft as the put-upon daughter is resentful and alcoholic and is burdened with some of the worst lines. "What's the matter, Nick? TAKE me! I'm THROWING myself at you!" But Nick, a heterosexual, is still a man of honor and never violates someone else's territory. He gives Marilyn Maxwell, Crawford's main squeeze, the same treatment. Man, how she would love to have Conte stay for that nightcap. But the script isn't entirely dumbed down. Maxwell is a hardened whore, yet when Crawford finds his daughter has been killed, she is there to comfort Crawford and share his grief.It's not a "film noir," a term that seems to have lost almost all meaning. It's a crime thriller that takes place mostly in daylight and with few expressionistic effects. Maybe Russell Rouse didn't have the time, the money, or the imagination to bring any poetry to the story. There is one tense scene that takes place in an elevator descending from the top floor to the lobby -- too slowly, because it's carrying three murderers who must get out of the building before the maid discovers the fresh cadaver. (The scene is lifted from 1947's "Kiss of Death".) And there's another scene in which Conte brings off a hit and we see the victim slowly twist and fall, but only his shadow.In many ways the story isn't THAT different from "The Godfather". "New York Confidential" has the family values, the code of honor, the equivalent of the Five Families, the Italian connection, the need to kill one or two of their own, and even a consigliere. But it illustrates the difference between the work of studio hacks and the work of a talented director.

Flawed but always worth watching, this movie seems to have sprung from nowhere onto DVD. Certainly not pure 'noir' but neither is it simply a crime drama. Indeed with the documentary element and Crawford's wayward antics on the one side and the coolness of Richard Conte and his relations with the ladies on the other, this could be considered a bit of a mess. That it is not is due in the main to the tremendous performances of Conte, Bancroft and to a lesser extent, Marilyn Maxwell as Iris, Crawford's mistress. For me Crawford is over the top as the macho boss man and simply unable to deal with the more sensitive scenes, but he is overshadowed by Conte and we are soon persuaded to view the events through his steely eyes. A few location shots that really only go to show up the shoddiness of the studio ones but there is a great ending and as I say enough along the way to make this almost unseen film well worth a watch.