David O'ConnellAce in the Hole
February 19th 2009 22:30
How many directors can boast of more genuine masterpieces than you can count on one hand? From Sunset Blvd to The Apartment, from Double indemnity to The Lost Weekend, Billy Wilder carved out a career libel to spurn envy in virtually any other director to follow in his wake.
Yet nestled amongst his astonishing body of work lies another, less acknowledged, masterpiece, 1951’s Ace in the Hole, starring Kirk Douglas - bursting with the virile masculinity of his prime - as Charles Tatum, a former New York Times reporter who strolls into the desert wasteland of Albuquerque, New Mexico offering his services at a cut-rate price. The curious but suspicious owner of the local rag, Mr. Boot (Jacob Hall), listens to the litany of indiscretions that have conspired to bring Tatum to his door, before reluctantly agreeing to employ him.
Tatum is praying for the miracle of a story worthy enough to return him to the big time. A whole fruitless year later, in which the mindlessly small scale of non-events driving this dustbowl’s local news have driven him to the edge of despair, it finally arrives. Sent to cover a remote rattlesnake competition, he stumbles upon a cave-in at an old Indian burial ground in the township of Escudero, where Leo Minosa (Richard Benedict) is pinned beneath the earth, able to communicate but in such a precarious position that the entire mountain is on the verge of collapsing around him.
Tatum’s eyes light up, his interest piqued by the glorious possibilities, imagining the whisper of a Pulitzer Prize in a humanist, dragged-out, epic tale of misadventure which galvanizes an entire bored community. With Mimosa’s mind feasting on the delirium of his solitude, Tatum engineers his comeback, concocting a fantastical avenging spirit angle and befriending the unfortunate man with an eye to controlling the entire operation.
He even resorts to casting the corrupt sheriff in a favourable light to stay ahead of the competition, retaining exclusive rights to coverage of the twists and turns to follow – many the result of Tatum’s own persuasive argumentation. He sees these people as beneath him, simplistic, inferior beings trawling the ocean floor for signs of blood and he intends to deliver, knowing that “bad news is best because good news is no news”.
Wilder’s film, which he co-wrote with Lesser Samuels and Walter Newman, has lost nothing of its relevance more than half a century later. Questioning the ethics of a man paid for truth-telling, he provides Tatum with street smarts worn down to a cynical hard edge of narcissistic fervor. Douglas breathes magnificent, detestable life into this man but wins us over with his innate powers of calculation and a charm that proves irresistible to everyone he meets. Even Minosa’s wife, Lorraine (Jan Stirling), who sees through his false concern from the get-go, can't help admiring the stamina of his renewed quest for recognition, even if she sees his ulterior motives as despicable.
As the story becomes one of nationwide interest, the media invades Escudero and even as the circus continues rolling in, it’s Tatum who’s pulling the strings, exerting his influence to maintain the momentum of this imperiled man’s plight, selling his journalistic soul to the highest bidder. Ignoring the danger that weighs down on Minosa’s tenuous existence, he draws the tale out by any means, always with an eye on the golden light of glory that can restore and resurrect any fledging reputation.
Wilder’s themes are fundamental to the real story behind the cave-in and its aftermath. Can anything prick the conscience of Charles Tatum? He watches his creation – or is it his invention? – taking shape: the circus reaching almost biblical proportions with makeshift tents, carnival rides, and folk-singers inventing sad ballads of woe for the circling, worried, hypnotized crowd, reluctant still to alter his course - even as the pounding of the drills increases like the sound of relentlessly pursuing doomsayers boring closer to their prey with every mocking, thunderous boom.
Does a human interest story need to have a human interest ending?
Will Tatum’s entire endeavor backfire, leaving a dead body submerged in the mountain and a valley full of expectant faces downcast, distraught and robbed of meaning?
The dilemmas faced are intensely complex, Wilder never resorting to an easy escape route, his screenplay a typically taut and literate one, as sharp as the two-sided knife on which Tatum’s moral conundrum is precariously balanced.
Fittingly, in line with the cynical conclusions he draws, embracing the bleakness of this timeless tale, Wilder provides - if not one of the greatest ever final frames, certainly one of my personal favourites - a grotesque and fitting coda for a masterpiece of cinema by anyone’s definition.
Yet nestled amongst his astonishing body of work lies another, less acknowledged, masterpiece, 1951’s Ace in the Hole, starring Kirk Douglas - bursting with the virile masculinity of his prime - as Charles Tatum, a former New York Times reporter who strolls into the desert wasteland of Albuquerque, New Mexico offering his services at a cut-rate price. The curious but suspicious owner of the local rag, Mr. Boot (Jacob Hall), listens to the litany of indiscretions that have conspired to bring Tatum to his door, before reluctantly agreeing to employ him.
Tatum is praying for the miracle of a story worthy enough to return him to the big time. A whole fruitless year later, in which the mindlessly small scale of non-events driving this dustbowl’s local news have driven him to the edge of despair, it finally arrives. Sent to cover a remote rattlesnake competition, he stumbles upon a cave-in at an old Indian burial ground in the township of Escudero, where Leo Minosa (Richard Benedict) is pinned beneath the earth, able to communicate but in such a precarious position that the entire mountain is on the verge of collapsing around him.
Kirk Douglas as Charles 'Chuck' Tatum, one of cinema's greatest characters
Tatum’s eyes light up, his interest piqued by the glorious possibilities, imagining the whisper of a Pulitzer Prize in a humanist, dragged-out, epic tale of misadventure which galvanizes an entire bored community. With Mimosa’s mind feasting on the delirium of his solitude, Tatum engineers his comeback, concocting a fantastical avenging spirit angle and befriending the unfortunate man with an eye to controlling the entire operation.
He even resorts to casting the corrupt sheriff in a favourable light to stay ahead of the competition, retaining exclusive rights to coverage of the twists and turns to follow – many the result of Tatum’s own persuasive argumentation. He sees these people as beneath him, simplistic, inferior beings trawling the ocean floor for signs of blood and he intends to deliver, knowing that “bad news is best because good news is no news”.
Tatum with Lorraine Minosa (the brilliant Jan Stirling)
Wilder’s film, which he co-wrote with Lesser Samuels and Walter Newman, has lost nothing of its relevance more than half a century later. Questioning the ethics of a man paid for truth-telling, he provides Tatum with street smarts worn down to a cynical hard edge of narcissistic fervor. Douglas breathes magnificent, detestable life into this man but wins us over with his innate powers of calculation and a charm that proves irresistible to everyone he meets. Even Minosa’s wife, Lorraine (Jan Stirling), who sees through his false concern from the get-go, can't help admiring the stamina of his renewed quest for recognition, even if she sees his ulterior motives as despicable.
As the story becomes one of nationwide interest, the media invades Escudero and even as the circus continues rolling in, it’s Tatum who’s pulling the strings, exerting his influence to maintain the momentum of this imperiled man’s plight, selling his journalistic soul to the highest bidder. Ignoring the danger that weighs down on Minosa’s tenuous existence, he draws the tale out by any means, always with an eye on the golden light of glory that can restore and resurrect any fledging reputation.
Tatum with poor Leo Minosa (Richard Benedict)
Wilder’s themes are fundamental to the real story behind the cave-in and its aftermath. Can anything prick the conscience of Charles Tatum? He watches his creation – or is it his invention? – taking shape: the circus reaching almost biblical proportions with makeshift tents, carnival rides, and folk-singers inventing sad ballads of woe for the circling, worried, hypnotized crowd, reluctant still to alter his course - even as the pounding of the drills increases like the sound of relentlessly pursuing doomsayers boring closer to their prey with every mocking, thunderous boom.
Does a human interest story need to have a human interest ending?
Will Tatum’s entire endeavor backfire, leaving a dead body submerged in the mountain and a valley full of expectant faces downcast, distraught and robbed of meaning?
The dilemmas faced are intensely complex, Wilder never resorting to an easy escape route, his screenplay a typically taut and literate one, as sharp as the two-sided knife on which Tatum’s moral conundrum is precariously balanced.
Fittingly, in line with the cynical conclusions he draws, embracing the bleakness of this timeless tale, Wilder provides - if not one of the greatest ever final frames, certainly one of my personal favourites - a grotesque and fitting coda for a masterpiece of cinema by anyone’s definition.
| 138 |
| Vote |
Subscribe to this blog
Comment by Norm
Consumption Malfunction
Equal and Opposite
Arses and Elbows
Footy Power
Comment by James Rickard
unlucky_ fishermen.com
Angling Fish
Check this out...
Comment by Teresa Ralton
MRS SMITH
READ THIS
SISTERS IN CRIME
Comment by Teresa Ralton
MRS SMITH
READ THIS
SISTERS IN CRIME
One of my favourite books is That Old Ace in the Hole by Annie Proulx
Comment by David O'Connell
Screen Fanatic
James, you're definitely not alone, watching it again made me see it in an even more favourable light - if that's possible! It hasn't dated a bit - great acting, great writing and exceptional direction as usual from Wilder.
Hey Teresa, it's worth every minute you spernd tracking it down. The DVD is quite cheap I think, though apparently there's a Criterion version that I'd love to own some day.
The term Ace in the Hole is terminology used in card-playing, I'm not sure exactly. But in the context of the film, Tatum uses it in describing the attractive possibilities created by this breaking story - at last he feels like he's been dealt an "ace in the hole".
Interestingly the film has also been known as The Big Carnival which is a great name for it too and just as appropriate.
Comment by Matt Shea
20/20 Filmsight
Comment by David O'Connell
Screen Fanatic
Comment by Cibbuano
Hunt Famous
Orble Post of the Day
Fat Cult
Techbreak
Comment by David O'Connell
Screen Fanatic
Comment by JohnDoe
Film & TV on DVD
I agree this can sit alongside any of Wilder's other masterpieces. A vicious and scathing indictment of the media and its manipulation of circumstance to sell material. Douglas really shines and bravely plays unforgivable morality with eerie precision.
Pleased others feel the same way I do about the film and great review because of it.
Comment by David O'Connell
Screen Fanatic
And yes, it's certainly as relevant today as any film of its era and one of the finest screenplays I know.