Director: Hugo Fregonese
Screenplay: Sydney Boehm
Starring: Edward G. Robinson, Jean Parker, Peter Graves, Milburn Stone, Warren Stevens, Sylvia Findley, Jack Kelly
Country: USA
Running Time: 80 min
Year: 1954
BBFC Certificate: 12
Black Tuesday is a tough crime movie/film noir that proved too controversial for many back in 1954, when it was released. It was even banned in the UK and in some American states. It did get re-released a few months later after around 10 minutes of cuts, at least in the UK, but this dulled the filmâs edge and, as such, it gained little attention and took a while to be rediscovered. In fact, it was never seen on British TV until this year (thanks to Talking Pictures TV).
More recent retrospectives of the filmâs equally underrated director, Hugo Fregonese, have caused Black Tuesday to be re-evaluated though. Now, Eureka are aiding this ârebirthâ of the film by releasing it on Blu-ray under their illustrious Masters of Cinema banner.
Being a lover of all things noir, I got hold of a copy and my thoughts follow.
Black Tuesday opens on death row, where Vincent âKingâ Canelli (Edward G. Robinson), a notorious gangster, is due to be executed on the titular weekday in a âdouble headerâ with Peter Manning (Peter Graves), a cop-killer who refuses to tell anyone where heâs hidden his $200,000 stash.
Canelli, however, aided by his girlfriend Hatti (Jean Parker), has set the wheels in motion to break out of the prison. Through a clever plot involving a fake journalist and a gun planted by a prison guard whose daughter has been kidnapped by Canelliâs goons, the mobster gets out and takes Manning and several hostages with him.
Manning gets shot on the way out of the prison but Canelli does everything in his power (or that of the doctor heâs taken hostage) to keep him alive. Canelli is after Manningâs money, of course, and everything seems to be working in the criminalâs favour until the law starts to close in. As a siege begins, Canelli will put anyone in the firing line to save his skin.
Though perhaps its narrative leans more towards the crime movie, Black Tuesday is so hard-edged, bleak and nihilistic that it feels like one of the blackest of film noirs. And itâs damned good, no matter how you classify it.
Right from the opening scene, you know youâre in for something special. It sees the inmates pacing their cells like animals, as a black prisoner beats a rhythm on a stool whilst singing the bluesy theme song. This moody atmosphere is shattered by one of the inmates screaming âShut up, will ya!â leading to the title splashing on the screen.
This stylish, tense, violent quality never lets up either. The film is tautly constructed without an ounce of fluff. This energy keeps the bleak nature of the film from taking over. There’s one plot hole regarding the convenience of a new reporter being sent to cover the execution but it can easily be forgiven for the otherwise ingenious breakout scene.
Aiding the filmâs intoxicating pull is its cinematography by the great Stanley Cortez (Night of the Hunter, The Magnificent Ambersons). He used a new film stock called Tri-x, which hadn’t previously been used to shoot a feature film. It was more sensitive than the standard stock used at the time and led to extremely high-contrast images. This gives the film an inky black look that adds to the oppressive atmosphere. Cortez also fills each frame with diagonal lines, trapping the characters between them, making the minimal settings feel all the more claustrophobic.
The film was made whilst Robinson was effectively greylisted in Hollywood due to accusations of being a former member of the Communist party. It sees him return to the vicious gangster persona he was famous for in the 30s and 40s in films such as Little Caesar. Robinson makes the most of the role, crafting a character you canât keep your eyes off, despite being shockingly evil. We do get a small spark of humanity from Canelli, in his love of Hatti, but this doesn’t soften him up in any shape or form.
Every character in the film could be seen as callous in some way, in fact. Even the seemingly sanctimonious Ellen Norris, the kidnapped daughter of a prison guard, is shown to have an acidic disdain for the criminals. This may be justified, due to her situation, but sheâs certainly not a warm-hearted character. All the hostages, in fact, show moments of coldness or selfishness, largely in service of the filmâs theme – the fear of death. Cheery stuff.
Overall then, Black Tuesday is film noir at its darkest pitch. Itâs a stylish, nihilistic classic that is hopefully going to be discovered by a much wider audience, following this release.
Film:
Black Tuesday is out on 18th November on Blu-Ray in the UK, released by Eureka as part of their Masters of Cinema series. Itâs a strong transfer, with no notable damage, deep blacks and a detailed picture for the era. Audio is solid too.
SPECIAL FEATURES
– Limited Edition (2000 copies)
– Limited edition O-Card slipcase featuring new artwork by Scott Saslow
1080p HD presentation on Blu-ray from a 2K scan of the 35mm fine grains
– Optional English subtitles
– A new audio commentary with film noir expert Sergio Angelini, host of the Tipping My Fedora podcast
– From Argentina to Hollywood â a new interview with film historian Sheldon Hall on director Hugo Fregonese
– No Escape â A brand new video essay by Imogen Sara Smith, author of In Lonely Places: Film Noir Beyond the City
– A new video interview with critic and co-director of Il Cinema Ritrovato Ehsan Khoshbakht
– Theatrical trailer
– A collectorâs booklet featuring new writing on Black Tuesday by critic Barry Forshaw and film writer Craig Ian Mann
Sergio Angelini’s commentary is compelling and easy to listen to. It’s incredibly well-researched, delving into the history of the film and its makers, making for a valuable addition to the set.
Sheldon Hall talks about Hugo Fregonese in his 20-minute piece. The Argentinian director is little-known and Hall tells his fascinating story whilst making a strong case for Fregonese as being worthy of rediscovery.
Ehsan Khoshbakht provides a 24-minute interview about Black Tuesday. He previously worked on the programme for a retrospective of Fregonese, so spends a lot of time talking about the director. It’s another illuminating extra.
Finally, we have a 22-minute essay from Imogen Sara Smith. She talks about the film’s nihilism and that of 50s noir in general. Her analysis of Black Tuesday is intelligent and wonderfully detailed.
The booklet opens with an essay by Barry Forshaw, who writes mainly about Robinson and where Black Tuesday fits within his oeuvre, but also touches on Fregonese and other aspects of the production. Craig Ian Mann, again, focuses on Robinson, looking at how his criminal characters help map out the development of the gangster movie. It’s an interesting piece, though I was disappointed to see no mention of The Whole Townâs Talking, which wonderfully plays with Robinson’s hardened criminal persona.
Overall then, Eureka have put together an excellent package for a film that deserves to be much better known.
Disc/Package:
I’m buying this. Thanks!