Touch of Evil (1958)

Well, Big Entry time! I started writing a few lines about the film we watched last night… and quickly found I could either say, ‘It’s great! A must-see!’ or I could do the full review thing. So I put my journalist hat on. Be warned! I could’ve written twice as much, but I forcibly contained it within reasonable limits for a blog entry.

Classic Movie Review!

Orson Welles was originally hired simply as an actor on 1958’s Touch of Evil. It was his co-star, Charlton Heston, who urged Universal to hire him also as director. Welles jumped at the chance—he hadn’t directed in Hollywood since Macbeth (1948). Sadly, his relationship with the studio deteriorated rapidly, and what he thought would be his big-studio ‘comeback’ turned out to be the end of the road.

The screenplay was based on a (reportedly mediocre) Whit Masterson novel. When Welles came on board, he rewrote it extensively, and continued to make changes throughout the filming (one of the reasons Hollywood hated the way he worked). The plot itself is fairly ordinary: a crime happens on the Mexican border. Mexican cop Vargas (played by Heston, who actually looks quite good, but eschews the accent) realises that veteran American cop Hank Quinlan (Welles) has planted evidence to get a conviction. He decides to nail him for it. All hell breaks loose.

What could be hung on this simple story, in terms of character and atmosphere, was clearly Welles’ main concern.

The cast are all great. Heston gives a typical, upstanding, earnest performance, and played against Welles, it can’t help but work. The semi-retired Marlene Dietrich (a personal friend of Welles) has a small role as Tanya, a fortune-teller and, maybe, something even less reputable, and almost steals the show. Welles was enthused to get her on board and, not-so-coincidentally, she gets the best lines.

But it’s Welles himself who dominates. Quinlan is a bloated old wreck who borders on caricature. Welles, at 43, was some years away from the full extent of his famous girth, and needed padding for the role. He also wore latex jowels and a false nose, to alter/age his appearance. He’s barely recognisable. His performance veers between extreme bombast and lazy naturalism—a shaky line few actors could get away with, but he pulls it off brilliantly.

Ultimately, the film poses very human questions. Quinlan is reprehensible. And yet, he’s a former alcoholic who’s been on the wagon for 12 years. At the end (spoiler alert), we find the suspect he’d framed on a hunch has confessed, so he was right all along, even if his methods stink. The possibility that the confession was beaten out of the suspect by Quinlan and his men remains, adding to the ambiguity; but Welles does not emphasise this aspect. We’re left with the impression that Quinlan was actually a strong character with some admirable qualities, even if his ‘bad’ side leads him under stress back to the bottle, outright crime, and eventually murder. Like all the best villains, he isn’t all bad. Like all the best human drama, the shades of grey give it essential texture.

It’s worth noting that, by 1958 standards, this film’s violence is really quite brutal. The famous scene where Quinlan murders the comically crooked Joe Grandi, followed by the unconscious Janet Leigh awakening to see Grandi’s bloody, dead face peering down on her, are harsh and memorable. They contain touches that a thousand lesser films since have reused.

In 1998, a director’s cut of Touch of Evil was released. Welles’ original, copious notes for the final editing (which Universal largely ignored) had been discovered in the vaults. They were followed exactly in an attempt to restore it to his original vision. I haven’t seen the result, as it’s not yet available in the UK—but even with studio interference, the film remains a superb experience. Required viewing.

Further reading: BBC review by David Wood.