The Asphalt Jungle

Not likely to turn quite as many heads had it been made today, The Asphalt Jungle was remarkably transgressive at the time of its release in 1950. Its large cast of ethically and morally-challenged characters, some of which are attempting to pull off a jewel heist, and shocking depiction of suicide by gunshot earned the typically family friendly MGM studios a rare “B” rating, or “Morally objectionable in part” from the Catholic Legion of Decency. Of course, most of the boundary pushing could be attributed to the film’s director, John Huston. But, it was the Vice President in Charge of Production, Dore Schary, who allowed him to have such unprecedented creative control in the first place, due to his vision for the future of the studio often aligning with Huston’s maverick artistic sensibilities. The censors too, gave little push back, generally appreciating the movie’s “crime never pays” messaging. Ultimately more of a critical success than a financial one, The Asphalt Jungle earned $2.1 million at the box office (its budget was reportedly $1.2 million) and received four nominations from the Academy of Motion  Picture Arts and Sciences: Best Director, Best Adapted Screenplay, Best Supporting Actor, and Best Cinematography.

This may just be my opinion, but even among his contemporaries in Hollywood Huston’s eye for talent was extraordinary. Nearly a decade prior he had gambled on Humphrey Bogart, an unproven draw at the time, by casting him in The Maltese Falcon. The film was a huge success and Bogart became a household name. This time around, he chose actor Sterling Hayden to play down-on-his-luck “hooligan” Dix Handley. Introduced as a career criminal who robs cigar shops and gas stations, and then loses the money he stole at the racetrack, Dix is stuck in a downward spiral and acutely aware of it. Yet, he floats on, dreaming of returning to his home state of Kentucky to buy back his family’s repossessed farm. Towering over all at an imposing six-foot and five-inches tall, Hayden too, yearned for a simpler alternative to his life in the city. Eventually he found it, residing on a barge in the Netherlands for a time and only returning to the screen when he needed cash. This real world connection to a core characteristic of the fictional individual he was hired to embody may not have been considered at the time, but the authenticity of his performance shines through.

To play Hayden’s female counterpart, “Doll”, Huston turned to Jean Hagen, later known for her role as Lina Lamont from Singin’ in the Rain. The character, a “dime and dance girl”, spends most of her time throwing herself at Dix, who’s more apathetic to her presence than anything else. Hagen is great, making up for Doll’s unfortunately underdeveloped character the only way she can, with a solid performance. You can’t help but feel for her and hope that one day she finds someone who really appreciates her company.

Sam Jaffe, a personal friend of Huston’s and the performer who was given that Best Supporting Actor nomination I mentioned earlier, plays Erwin “Doc” Riedenschneider. An aging criminal mastermind in a stylish black coat and bowler hat, he’s the architect of the heist the movie revolves around. Jaffe plays Doc as careful and calculating, always taking note of flaws in his scheme as they become apparent. Released from prison for good behavior, he meets with a bookie named Cobby, (Marc Lawrence) who puts him in contact with a crooked lawyer, Alonzo P. Emmerich (Louis Calhern), who promises to fence the stolen items with cash upon delivery. Unbeknownst to all, Emmerich’s wealth is a facade and he plots with his associate Bob Brannom (Brad Dexter) to double-cross the thieves and disappear with the loot.

Additionally, James Whitmore stars as hunchbacked diner owner and getaway driver Gus Minissi, Anthony Caruso plays lock-picker Louie Ciavelli, and finally, Marilyn Monroe appears in a small but memorable role as Angela, Emmerich’s mistress. On the law and order side of things, John McIntire plays no-nonsense Police Commissioner Hardy and Barry Kelley plays Lt. Ditrich, a corrupt cop on the criminal’s payroll. Both give praise-worthy performances, though neither appear in more than a few scenes each.

Continuing on, it would be remiss of me not to single out the gorgeous visual presentation. An experienced painter (he studied in Los Angeles and Paris), for Huston every frame was a blank canvas. From the dimly-lit streets at night to the smoke filled basements and backrooms where the crooks dwell, the claustrophobic world of The Asphalt Jungle is bathed in sleek, atmospheric noir. The sun is never shown, barring the final scene. Shifting power dynamics are conveyed through clever blocking and the character’s faces are often obscured by shadows. Even in simple dialogue scenes, Huston never fails to provide his cast with small, eye-catching things to do. For example, the way Jean Hagen fiddles with her false eyelashes while crying in Dix’s apartment or when Gus turns up the radio to disorient the police in the opening scene.

Within the constraints of 112 minutes, John Huston managed to establish the look and feel of a film genre that remains popular to this day. Moody and devastating from beginning to end, it’s fascinating to consider then, that such a movie could be born out of positive feelings, like respect and admiration. Everywhere you look, Huston’s love for this project is evident, an extension of his feelings for novelist W.R. Burnett, who wrote the book the movie was based on. They were friends or at least colleagues since they worked together on another crime film based on a Burnett novel, High Sierra in 1941. About his work, Huston wrote: “There are moments of reality in all those books that are quite overpowering. More than once they had me breaking into a sweat.” It’s even been stated that Huston based his writing style on Burnett, and according to film historian Eddie Muller, he had arranged for MGM to buy the rights to The Asphalt Jungle before the novel was released to the public. It’s a shame that Huston and Burnett never collaborated again. I can only imagine the hard-boiled cinema magic that could’ve come from it. Regardless, The Asphalt Jungle may not be a perfect movie, but it’s pretty damn close.