Raw Deal (1948) is a film noir that almost works. If you are going to watch it, or have watched it, you were probably drawn to the film by the famous pair of Anthony Mann (director) and John Alton (cinematographer), or possibly because of the stars such as Claire Trevor (“Queen of Film Noir”) or Raymond Burr (in an early role). The basic test, however, is whether the film works as a whole. Although Raw Deal has many good features, it does not pack the punch that it could or should.
The two intertwining plots—a jail break and a love triangle—are handled deftly. Twists and turns and suspense are constant. Will the break succeed? What will Sullivan (Dennis O’Keefe) and his “partner” Pat (Claire Trevor) do when the get-away car dies? Will the police nab them when the do-gooder social worker, Ann (Marsha Hunt), secretly calls the cops when Sullivan and Pat turn to her as the only hideout they can think of? When the three take off in her car, how will they avoid the police blockades? When a warden spots them camping without a fire permit, will Sullivan have to shot him? What will they do when another guy fleeing the police pounds at the door of their hideout? When Sullivan goes to collect his $50,000 from his sleazy boss, Rick (Raymond Burr), will Sullivan survive the encounter, and will Ann help him by using a gun? As the two plots head toward climaxes, they become inextricably intertwined. Ann declares her love for Rick, and Rick is strongly attracted to her and her respectable life, but he sends her away in a rented car. Back at the hotel, Ann prepares for Sullivan and her to flee by ship to Panama. She loves Sullivan unconditionally and goes along with all the criminal activities he wants. Yet, when he says he’s going to kill Rick hours before the boat sails, she has had enough. Sullivan begrudgingly agrees to head for the dock. But, in the meantime, Ann has received a call from Rick’s henchmen saying that Ann has been captured and will be tortured if Sullivan doesn’t show up. Ann tells Sullivan it was only the front desk calling, and the two board the ship. Then the climaxes of the two plots happen in quick succession. As Sullivan describes a new, respectable life, Pat thinks that this is what she has always secretly wanted to hear, but then she realizes: “The lyrics are his, but the music is Ann’s.” She does not want to live a life where in everything from kiss to kids she is a stand-in for another woman, so she tells him of the phone call, he bolts from the ship, shots his way through Rick’s gang, kills Rick, and rescues Ann and dies in her arms.
While there is plenty of action and, sort of, romance, two things undermine the impact of the film. Some fake bits break the cinematic illusion of being there. Some sets—particularly the signs—are unsubtle and phony. Thus Sullivan’s haunt sports a starkly lettered street sign “Corkscrew Alley”—so amateurish and heavy-handed. Similarly, when Pat and Sullivan escapes from the pen in a hail of bullets, the car seems untouched until it grinds to a halt. Then we see a cluster of about eight bullet holes around the gas tank. One would have done it. In addition, although the acting is generally very good, Sullivan maintains the same cool demeanour from jail break to death, and it seems more logical that he might be highly excited and nervous to break out and run, and then more collected when he has escaped the dragnet.
The major weakness of the movie is the incomprehensible relationship between Sullivan and Ann. Initially she was attracted to him because as a social worker she wondered what had happened to the fine upstanding boy who heroically rescued others from a fire. Sullivan seems attracted to her because she is good looking (and, as we soon find out, the love between Pat and Sullivan runs only one way). But as the three flee from the law, Ann sounds like a plant from the Ministry of Moral Rectitude, constantly harping at Sullivan to go straight. This gets worse when she sees in his eyes that he would indeed have killed the warden who happened upon them camping. Sullivan tries to kiss her just to see what will happen, and she is disgusted. Yet, when she fires a gun to help Sullivan survive an ambush by two thugs, she inexplicably declares her love for Sullivan, and they spend the night together (off camera, of course). Previously, Ann was getting under Sullivan’s skin to the point where he told Pat to shoot her if necessary, but now Ann is getting under his skin in a completely different way, and we don’t know why. She gives a speech saying that from reasonably hard circumstances, she fought her way up with hard work and education so that now she has a car, a career, and the prospect of a good life. She presents this as an alternative to Sullivan’s fighting his way up (down?) with a gun and ending up on the run. Maybe this appeals to the decency Sullivan displayed as a boy. If so, it does not change his behaviour much, as he is right ready to start a gun battle with Rick’s gang instead of getting on a boat for a new life. So at the climax of both plot lines, Sullivan’s actions have little weight. We can see no good reason why he does not care for Pat who is good looking, loves him unconditionally, and has stood by him through thick and thin. We can see no compelling reason why Sullivan is so taken with Ann, nor her with him.
While mediocre directing and poor character development might sound as if they would destroy the movie, some strong features counterbalance these weaknesses. As everyone who has ever written anything about Raw Deal points out, the camera work is great. John Alton really got to do this thing. He has said that in Anthony Mann he finally found a director who he could sit down and talk with. Only if you stop the movie will you consciously realize the amazing composition and lighting flashing on the screen. To take one minor example, when Ann has wounded the thug, she runs from the tackle and bait store into the night, and what we see framed by the doorway is a small dark figure running down a thin wooden sidewalk to the beach, fishing nets hanging all around her in the moonlight. Ann might be the voice of middle-class decency, but she is caught up in something bigger than her and potentially deadly.
As with numerous film noir, Raw Deal has voice-over narration, but how different it is! Instead of a male, it is a female, Pat. And instead of being omniscient and telling us background, transitions, and so on, the narration is personal and gives us Pat’s thoughts, hopes, and worries. It works wonderfully. Claire Trevor says the voice-over with a matter-of-fact world weariness that introduces a element of fatalism even as the jail break is successful and the boat to freedom waits. I knew things would not end well when half way through the movie Pat is laying on a bed with her sprained ankle and Sullivan is pacing lost in thought about who-knows-what, and Pat says in voice-over something like “It had never bothered me before that he never said he loved me, but for some reason it bothered me now.”
Jim Bell