In 1958, Film Noir was no longer original. Either by design (like Sunset Blvd.) or by mistake (like Touch of Evil) Noirs had been reduced to parodies. And this parody documents the fall of Orson Welles. Few have fallen farther.
Directed by: Orson Welles
Written by: Orson Welles (from Whit Masterson’s novel, Badge of Evil)
Produced by: Albert Zugsmith/Rick Schmidlin (1998 version)
Re-Edited by Walter Murch
Universal, 1958/1998
Runtime: 95 min /112 min (1998 posthumous director’s cut)
Cast:
Charlton Heston (Ramon Miguel ‘Mike’ Vargas), Janet Leigh (Susan Vargas), Orson Welles (Capt. Hank Quinlan), Joseph Calleia (Sgt. Pete Menzies), (Akim Tamiroff (Uncle Joe Grandi), (Joanna Moore (Marcia Linnekar), (Ray Collins (District Attorney Adair), Dennis Weaver (Mirador Motel Night Manager), Valentin de Vargas (Pancho, Grandi Hood), Mort Mills (Al Schwartz, District Attorney’s Office), Victor Millan (Manelo Sanchez), Marlene Dietrich (Tanya)
A Few Thoughts
For years, Touch of Evil was only available in a studio mutilated form, which was convenient, as it allowed critics who worshiped at the alter of Welles an excuse to dislike it. But those days are over, as a necro-directors cut is now available. Welles, upset over the studio edits, wrote a 58 page “memo” explaining how Touch of Evil could be made to match his “vision.” This memo was promptly ignored, and Welles later died (the two events are probably unrelated). When it looked like a few bucks could be made from a more Welles-like version, the memo was dusted off, and the film was re-cut. And guess what—it’s still horrible. But now, as it is Welles’ vision, critics are tripping over themselves trying to come up with some way to say the film is actually good. It’s reminiscent of the obscene attempts by many critics to find something worthwhile in Eyes Wide Shut because it was directed by Stanley Kubrick. Sometimes, good directors go bad.
Charlton Heston plays Mexican hero-cop Mike Vargas, with shoe polish-like makeup that makes blackface minstrels look sophisticated. With his new, pure-to-the-bone wife, Susan (Janet Leigh), Vargas stumbles into a crime of no real interest to the film, and also into fat, greasy, sweaty, grunting, U.S. cop, Hank Quinlan (played by Welles as more of a comic book character than Divito’s Penguin in Batman). You see, clean cut is good, and obese is evil. Ah, the sophisticated metaphors begin. The nonsensical plot and police work that follow are of little relevance. The film focuses on the two policemen trying to bring each other down. While the story should follow Heston’s hero (well, it should have if Heston had added an ounce of style to his performance), it is Welles, coughing and spitting, who is on screen most of the time.
This is a film where all the evidence the hero needs is just sitting in a file cabinet, the new wife is just dropped off at an out of the way gang motel, and when a conversation is bugged, the volume on the receiver is turned up loud enough for the villain to hear it. Everyone has to act stupidly for the plot to function, to the extent that it does function.
The rape scene best illustrates the failure of Touch of Evil. The absurdly evil gang members surround Susan on her bed and move in for their gang bang assault. The production code then forces a cut away. Soon after, we find Susan back with Mike, none the worse for wear. If she was gang raped, is she supposed to be so supernaturally self-assured that it doesn’t bother her? Or does she have such iron control that she can put up a good front so as not to distract Mike from his 
investigation? Does either of those seem likely? If she wasn’t raped, what did the gang members do, suddenly apologize for their rudeness? If so, wouldn’t Susan have mentioned the events to her husband? There is no option that makes this work. It’s as if a bunch of scenes were filmed without a finished script, and then the unconnected pieces were shoved next to each other.
Touch of Evil does contain a few interesting elements. Giving Vargas the positive Aryan-American stereotypes and Quinlan the negative Mexican ones allows for an amusing look at prejudice. Also, the film is filled with skillful camera work. Nothing completely innovative, but still quite clever. The uncut three minute opening scene is certainly impressive. A crane shot follows Mike & Susan, and a car with a bomb in its trunk, as they all move down the road toward the U.S. boarder. But this scene, and many of the other unusual shots, come off as gimmicks. It’s as if Welles is desperately trying to repeat his success from Citizen Kane, and can’t. Hollywood legend has director Peter Bogdanovich telling Welles that he’d watched the film five times before he noticed the story. The funny thing is that this is supposed to be a compliment. Film technique should never overshadow the story. The Maltese Falcon has far more innovative camera work than Touch of Evil, but you never notice it. It is so beautifully done that you are pulled in by it, but the shots in Touch of Evil rip you out of the story.
Touch of Evil is a B-movie plot (D-movie, if we had such a term), performed like a cartoon, filled will nonsense, and then topped with pretension.
Why is it Important?
It marks the end of an era. Those who define Film Noir as a movement call it the last one. But even those of us who think the genre continued see this as an ending. The great Film Noirs were falling into the past, and it would be 20 years before someone figured how to resurrect the genre. The wit had dried up. Listen to the dialog from The Maltese Falcon or The Big Sleep, and then listen to Quinlan. It would be sad if I didn’t know that eventually, some life and wit were returned to the genre. But in 1958, Noir was no longer original. Either by design (like Sunset Blvd.) or by mistake (like this film) Film Noirs had been reduced to parodies. Additionally, Touch of Evil documents Orson Welles’ fall. Few have fallen farther.