BLAST OF SILENCE (Baron, 1961)
Criterion Collection, DVD, Release Date Apr 15, 2008
Review by Christopher S. Long
(Looking for something a little different to watch this Christmas season? Try this grim holiday treat from Allen Baron.)
Not too many films begin with a
point-of-view shot of the protagonist’s birth, but that’s only
one of many unusual things about Allen Baron’s “Blast of Silence”
(1961).
The opening shot of Allen Baron's
“Blast of Silence” (1961) depicts two births. A distant dot of
light hovers in a pool of inky blackness as the narrator speaks:
“Remembering out of the black silence, you were born in pain.” A
woman screams, a baby cries. The second-person narration, written by
Waldo Salt and delivered by an uncredited Lionel Stander (both
blacklisted at the time), continues, sharing the soundtrack with the
mounting rumble of a train. The distant light grows steadily, tracks
become visible, and as the train bursts out of the tunnel, our
protagonist is “born”again, entering the story as an adult who
now keeps the screams inside.
That protagonist is a plain vanilla hit
man named Frankie Bono (played by director Barron) though the
narrator, constantly haranguing poor Frankie in that gravelly Lionel
Stander voice, probably deserves co-billing. Frankie’s riding the
train into New York for his next job, a straightforward hit on a
mid-level mobster as unremarkable as Frankie. It's just another job
and Frankie has no interest in why he's been asked to do it.
The story, however, is not really about
the hit at all, but how Frankie kills time all alone in the big city,
where most New Yorkers are busily preparing for Christmas, while
waiting for an opportune moment to complete his job. Through the
narrator, we can guess that Frankie has a rich and tormented internal
life, but he seems sadly unaware of it. For Frankie, life’s just a
whole lot of waiting and trying your best not to think about it. “It”
being anything at all.
Arriving three years after Orson
Welles’s “Touch of Evil,” Baron’s film is either a straggler
at the end of the classic film noir period, or one of the earlier
neo-noirs. Film noir was a term applied many years after the noir
cycle began, so it’s unsurprising that critics can’t agree on the
precise timing of each of the noir cycles or even how to define the
genre. Like most noirs, the film’s universe is one that is severed
from any sense of a higher being (at least a benevolent one), a world
covered by only a thin veneer of civilization where even the
slightest mistake, a stumble or a wrong turn, leads inevitably to
tragedy. Frankie was “born in pain” and he lives in pain, always
trying to drown out the scream that heralded his entry into this
cruel world.
For Frankie, the wrong turn comes when
he picks the wrong place to have dinner; an old friend meets him and
insists he attend a Christmas party. At the party, Frankie meets his
old flame Lorrie (Molly McCarthy). This unfortunate encounter stirs
Frankie from his life-long stupor, and prompts him to wonder, for the
first time as an adult, if there’s a way to make meaning out of
this meaningless world. Sorry, Frankie, you’re in a film noir.
Allen Baron was a graphic designer (he
was a comic book artist for a while) who shot his first feature film
entirely on location, then an unusual thing to do though hardly
unprecedented. Baron scraped together financing in various stages
and shot the film piece-meal over two years. His friend Peter Falk
was originally slated for the title role but got a better offer (i.e.
one that paid) so Baron was forced to step into the role. Baron
appears ill-suited to be in front of the camera, which works just
fine since Frankie is ill-suited to be anywhere. Frankie’s very
birth was a mistake, and his continued existence only compounds the
error. He’s a man out of place in every place he goes.
The film takes great advantage of its
New York locations as well as the contrast between Frankie’s
isolation and the communal nature of the Christmas season. Frankie
walks past brightly lit Christmas trees and wanders through crowds of
shoppers, severed from any connection to the people or to the holiday
season. No joy to his world. “Blast of Silence” could just as
easily have been titled with a different oxymoron, “Alone in a
Crowd.”
Another highlight of the film is the
performance by Larry Tucker as the sleazy, obese gun dealer Big
Ralph. Tucker’s massive enough to have his own gravity well, yet so
mousy and insubstantial he could sneak up on you without warning.
Tucker later focused on a writing career (he was nominated for an
Oscar as the co-writer of “Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice”)
but he turned in one more memorable role, as Pagliacci in Sam
Fuller’s madhouse flick “Shock Corridor.”
No matter how many noirs you’ve
watched, I guarantee you’ve never seen anything quite like this
one.
Video:
The film is presented in its original
1.33:1 full-screen aspect ratio. The image is not picture-boxed. The
black-and-white photography looks sharp and beautiful in this
restored transfer. Some evidence of wear and tear from the source is
still visible, but it’s not even the slightest bit of a
distraction.
Audio:
The DVD is presented in Dolby Digital
Mono. Optional English subtitles support the English audio. Stander's
pervasive narration comes through loud and clear and the sound design
has an appropriately hollow quality to it.
Extras:
“Requiem for a Killer” is a
60-minute documentary featuring Baron as he revisits the filming
locations of “Blast of Silence.” This feature is a 2006
assemblage by film historian Robert Fischer who uses footage from a
1990 West German TV documentary about Baron combined with new
interview material.
“Locations Revisited” is a series
of still photos that, well, revisit NYC locations. It’s a bit of a
repeat of the material in “Requiem.”
The disc also includes a fairly
extensive collection of on-set Polaroids (about 40 in all) with
captions from Baron’s own descriptions written on the back of the
photos.
The slim eight page insert booklet
features an essay by film critic Terrence Rafferty. Criterion has
also included an additional insert, a 4-page mini comic book by
artist Sean Phillips (artist of the recent smash-hit Marvel
mini-series “Marvel Zombies.”)
Final Thoughts:
After a promising film debut, Allen
Baron went on to a career in television, directing episodes of a host
of well-known 60s and 70s shows, including “Kolchak: The Night
Stalker,” “The Dukes of Hazzard,” and even “Charlie’s
Angels.” That only makes “Blast of Silence” even more of an
anomaly, a bizarre one-off that is quintessentially noir while not
particularly resembling many other noirs. It’s not a masterpiece,
but it’s damned interesting and even an under-the-radar Christmas
film if you're not too wedded to the “Merry” part of “Merry Christmas.”
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