People love film noir because they are fascinated by crime--they don't get to see it for themselves often, and they secretly want to. What else is fascinating in this way? Foreign countries! Reed's choice to film a noir in a war-stormed Austria fulfills two of our most perverse desires--to delight in the idea that, "Oh my God, we live with criminals!", and to experience the aftermath of the greatest war in history, in a country far away.

Vienna’s setting is grand, exotic, and urban, with magnificent landmarks and marble ruins. The indoor scenes, too, suggest wealth and luxury--tall ceilings, emperor busts, and lavish wallpaper abound. But let's not forget its contrast. In Anna's apartment, there are dirty walls, light bulbs dangling from a wire, and rope lines hanging her nylons. All this suggests Austrians are real, too--and just as subject to crime and deception as anyone else.

The alienation Holly feels in another country also greatly contributes to this films noir-ness. The Austrians consider him a "master of suspense" (strangely enough), and in the scene where he watches Anna in the theater, Reed purposely sits Cotton in the midst of everything, the only one not roaring with laughter because he doesn't speak the language.

The two best places to make Holly, Anna, and Harry run around in the dark are best found in Vienna--atop the countless piles of rubble, and down in the extensive underground sewer system. Mounds of broken stone serve as an obstruction to the fleeing characters several times, the best showing the great Harry Lime above the city, looking down to its destroyed beauty, and eventually to his own. Scenes of Lime running like a scared rat in the sewer are the exact opposite of Lime atop the world. This kind of comparison is much more impressive in a country with such strikingly different locations.

Ten years after Austria's Anschluss with Germany, Orson Welles is running down its piles of rubble. Reed's choice to film here reflects a bit on neo-realism, and makes disturbingly good use of a terrible-but-real destruction. How noir can you get?




the sixth week
response by RIGBY REARDON

The contributions of the wonderful Vienna setting in Carol Reed’s The Third Man extend past just the narrative. Vienna is also a terrific compliment to the camera work. A favorite move of Reed’s in this film is to use canted framing. Whenever Holly is immediately in the dark about something, which is much of the time, there is at least a slightly canted shot. Whenever he’s sure about something or has gained knowledge the shots are straightforward in their framing angle.

The setting of Vienna obviously helps the narrative by placing the American protagonist in an environment where the audience knows as little about it as he does. This also corresponds with the canted framing. Visually America is extraordinarily different from Vienna. The buildings in Vienna are much older and more extravagant than what Americans are used to seeing in their everyday life. The American audience has no preconception of what to expect in the setting of the next scene. They are open for anything. Since the surroundings are alien to the audience, it is more difficult to notice that they are being shown at an odd angle. Therefore the canted framing is open to work at a more cognitive, or connotative, level. We see the Dutch angle but don’t consciously realize it in the context of the strange surroundings.

As the film progresses, the audience becomes more used to the setting, so Reed gets more creative with the surroundings and the framing. In the scene where Holly and Harry talk, canted angles are often used since Lime is playing games with Martins and leaving him searching for answers. In order to make the framing less noticeable at this point in the film Reed has them talking on a Ferris wheel. The background behind them is constantly shifting and moving as beams of the Ferris wheel pass by at odd angles. This makes it almost impossible to recognize the canted framing as differently angled bars are constantly passing in and out of the frame, creating an even more chaotic effect. The only way to really notice the framing is by ignoring the background and focusing on the position of the person on screen. In the choice of Vienna, Reed used the lack of knowledge about the area to help him use a consistently recurring metaphor through the camera and the audience is left consciously unaware.




same ol' themes, brand new location!
response by DUKE CAIN

There could not have been a more appropriate locale for a film noir to be set than Vienna. Where else could the film noir principle of “crime happening under peoples noses” be so applicable? There are two main ideas that support this. The first of such is language. It seems as if around every corner there is a different language being spoken. Especially from the view of Holy Martins, who can only speak English. He is constantly asking for someone to translate. Sometimes he gets a translation Sometimes he does not. When the cops are raiding Anna’s room, an old lady comes in yelling indiscernible things. Holly, as well as the audience, wants to know what that woman is saying and why. But the sparse answers Anna gives are less than satisfactory. This example illustrates how language is used to confuse the viewer and constantly remind us that a conspiracy could be plotted right in front of us, but we would not know. The language barrier acts as the obligatory wall of classic noir that could hide any number of crimes behind it.

Vienna’s political set up also lends itself to elements of the classic noir. For instance, the idea of the apartment is replaced by the much larger ‘zone’. In classic noir, villains operate out of anonymous apartments usually just down the hall from your average Joe. In The Third Man, the zone is used in place of the apartment. Here the criminal could commit a crime in the American zone then walk over to the Russian zone and operate normally, without fear of being caught. Just as Lime says to Martins when they are discussing his lurking incarceration, “That jail is in another zone.”

These two ‘barriers’ help to enforce the idea of Vienna as a place where any sort of dastardly scheme could be taking place within ten feet of you, and you would not know. Any new face in your zone could be a fugitive. It is this realization of ‘anyone could be a criminal’ that makes The Third Man undeniably noir.

three old men and a dog
response by FROSTY FRAU

The Third Man can be labeled film noir because it utilizes all known methods: hyperfection, low-key lighting, perversion, and ambiguous suspects. The difference between this film and American film noir is the predominant placement of architecture and a distracting but humorous, polyglot story. Because the beautiful city takes center stage, we can't help but focus on it, which is the filmmaker's intention. Many scenes take place right in front of Harry Lime's apartment building. In longish shots, beautiful marble statues on the facade attract our attention; indeed we can't look away and the action becomes secondary while the filmmaker indulges us in our art history tour.

The setting really works for this film in several instances. For example, the subterranean sewer invokes feelings of disgust and mystery. Only a criminal would seek refuge in a place like this. The tunnels make terrific hiding places for humans and for whatever evil creature may loom up as a menacing shadow. Similarly, near the final showdown, the impressive white buildings provide an interesting backdrop for the approaching unknown. . .the balloon man. In a showcase for low-key lighting, the narrow cobble stoned streets give the film a darkish tone, compatible with film noir.

It is revealed that Harry Lime has committed serious crimes, but the victims are never seen. Sergeant takes Holly Martins on a trip to the children's hospital where we expect to view appendage-less children. In their place are teddy bears--yet another instance of gotcha! In a somewhat convoluted answer, the film both contributes to and undermines film noir as we know it, which is the key qualifier. Just as Harry Lime plays with Holly Martins, the film and filmmaker toy with us. In it's parody of American film noir, The Third Man takes the genre in a new direction.

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