Saturday, December 26, 2009

Ace in the Hole (1951) - #396

Bad news sells best, 'cause good news is no news.

After decades of treatment ranging from benign neglect to outright suppression, Ace in the Hole was released by the Criterion Collection to much acclaim in the summer of 2007. Packing the 1-2 punch of legendary director Billy Wilder and classic Hollywood tough guy Kirk Douglas, it's no surprise that Ace in the Hole became one of Criterion's most popular titles that year. Despite its disappointing inability to generate big box office upon original release, or in its repackaged version as "The Big Carnival," Ace in the Hole developed a strong reputation among film buffs as a lost treasure, a buried masterpiece, seen by few but intriguing to many. The film's prolonged lack of availability seemed incongruous for a director whose previous effort Sunset Boulevard won the Academy Award for Best Picture in 1950, and a leading man who went on to have one of the most storied and successful acting careers of his generation. Rumors of conspiracy and hints of big-studio censorship are reinforced by the film's provocative cynicism and biting satire of both the mass media and the gullible working-class American rubes who consume their product - a mix that proved too potent for the mainstream audience of 1951 to absorb, or at least willingly pay for. Click this link to see some fascinating newspaper clippings that capture the uneasiness with which Ace in the Hole was initially received!

The story revolves around an East Coast news reporter, Chuck Tatum, forced by circumstances to take a small-time job for the local paper in Albuquerque, New Mexico. Tatum is a hard-charging fast talker who rarely bothers to conceal the disdain he feels for his surroundings and the things his neighbors consider important. He's all about getting back to the Big Apple, where the real action is. Eager for the exclusive scoop that will give him the break he needs to put past indiscretions behind him and earn the paycheck he thinks he deserves, Tatum happens to arrive on the scene of a cave accident that leaves a man trapped underground. Sensing its potential for morbid fascination and subsequent commercial exploitation, Tatum takes charge, manipulating the victim's wife, local law enforcement, the search-and-rescue team and the ever-growing influx of outside media in order to maximize the drama and put himself (or more importantly, his byline) right at the center of the action. His actions have tragic consequences and, true to form for films of this period, he must face the day of reckoning for the sins he's committed.

Nothing in that plot summary should seem terribly challenging or hard to digest for adults of the 1950s, or the 21st century, for that matter. What made Ace in the Hole controversial and probably sealed its commercial doom, at least here in the States, was how the material was played out for laughs on screen. Tatum isn't merely a cold, hardened villain out to make his way in the world by trampling over the backs of those who get in his way - he's clearly the most charming, energized and charismatic figure in the whole film, the guy that most men in the crowd would want to identify with, who commits his dirty deeds with a confident swagger and a twinkle in his eye, injecting little twists of mockery along the way as if he can hardly believe what easy pickings these local yokels turned out to be. Likewise, the female lead is equally difficult to either admire or condemn. Jan Sterling plays Lorraine, the jaded, bottle-blonde wife of Leo, the guy trapped in the cave, ready to walk out on the guy at the next prospect of something better to come along, a dilemma that I think most women in the audience might empathize with if put in her hapless situation. But those are inappropriate emotions to stir up amongst the female patrons, aren't they? And Sterling's edgy portrayal of the opportunistic floozy only complicates things for an audience dealing with such an unconventional (for the times) presentation.

This clip should give a good sense of what I'm talking about here, as it opens with a sample of Tatum's negotiating technique, leads to some great shots of the exploitative county fair atmosphere created by "The Great S & M Amusement Company," offers a voyeuristic peek at the exchange between Chuck and Lorraine and culminates in a heart-breaking encounter with the pitiful victim trapped in a cave and losing the last shreds of hope:


Kind of squirm-inducing, ya think, with that catchy little song, the ferris wheel, the sanctimonious sheriff and his slogans of false humility? It is if one identifies at least a little positively with middle-class America and recognizes the obvious (and deserved) swipes that Wilder and crew are taking at commonplace values that emphasize prosperity, success and winning in life. These days, audiences may not feel quite so easily offended by this kind of satire. We've grown accustomed to having our own noses tweaked as on-screen portrayals of blatant consumerism and the cultural celebration of mediocrity make up a big chunk of our entertainment. Films like Wall-E and Idiocracy, TV shows like The Simpsons and Family Guy, just to name a few, all appeal to audiences by throwing the banality our culture craves right back in our face, all in the name of "irony." The movie-going public of the early 1950s certainly enjoyed humor in their movies, but not necessarily when it was at their own expense. They took stuff like that a little more seriously back then, and institutionalized hypocrites weren't used to being called out so blatantly on the big screen. (Of course, now they are used to it but we're past the point where calling them out makes much of a difference, in most cases anyway - they've found ways to insulate their power from the brunt of populist criticism.) Ace in the Hole doesn't shed a very kind light on small-town USA, poking fun at local institutions and mores while basically portraying everyday citizens as lemming-like gawkers ready to line up like suckers whenever some poor pitiful jerk gets himself into a serious life-endangering jam.

Ace in the Hole is partly based on, and references, the famous Floyd Collins sensation that took place in Mammoth Cave, Kentucky back in the 1920s. But the film's relevance is enhanced by all that's taken place with the growth of electronic media ever since. In 1951, television was still a rarity, but that was soon to change - and of course, the infosphere has been growing exponentially ever since. Just about any review you'll read on Ace in the Hole will draw this connection so I won't add a whole lot to the cumulative weight of opinion. Except to point out that when I re-watched this film with my family a few days ago, as it ended, I mentioned to them that I thought this was a fitting film to mark the day that Balloon Boy's father was sentenced to a short stint in jail. My son remarked, "I was thinking about that Balloon Boy story this whole time!"

We may be in an era where Ace in the Hole's iconoclastic insights no longer shock or challenge taboos; maybe the conventional wisdom is moving a bit closer to Billy Wilder's perspective in today's media-saturated culture. I'd like to think that we're growing more sophisticated as a culture in understanding how "the news" is cultivated and packaged for our consumerist convenience. Whether its making a difference or not remains highly debatable - there still seem to be a lot of people who prefer moronic and trivial over rigorous and substantial. There's no shortage of information out there that can help increase our awareness, if we want to become more discerning about these matters - here's one.

Nearly sixty years after it was made, Ace in the Hole makes for worthwhile viewing as one of the earliest and sharpest attempts to get behind the scenes in modern media, made at a time when the cultural homogenization of the USA was just getting started through the interstate highway system, the growth of national news networks and the resultant watering down of regional distinctions. One can also detect prescient indicators of the sprouting suspicions between "coastal elites" and "heartland bumpkins" that would eventually grow up into the culture wars of subsequent decades. On top of all that, Ace in the Hole offers entertaining performances, snappy noir-infused dialog (even if it is set mostly outdoors under the desert sun) and first-rate big-studio film-making, 1950s-style. The Criterion set offers solid value, with a great documentary on the life of Billy Wilder, an illuminating interview with Kirk Douglas and clever packaging that reminds me of Jethro Tull's Thick as a Brick, John and Yoko's Some Time in New York City and the National Lampoon's Sunday Newspaper. Usually available at a significant discount below its $39.95 SRP, Ace in the Hole gets one of my highest recommendations as an accessible point of entry into the Criterion Collection for anyone primarily accustomed to Hollywood movies but feeling ready to step outside the usual showbiz comfort zone.

Next: The River