The Scarface Mob

[I meant to post this eons ago, but couldn't find it. It was originally a "Noir of the Week" at The Blackboard, but that noir discussion group has an inadequate archiving process, and I had mislaid the document on my laptop. Sometimes I file things so cleverly, I can't even figure it out.]

The name “Eliot Ness” and the phrase “The Untouchables” have become utterly familiar in popular culture, but despite the crime-fighting exploits of the real-life Ness (1903-1957) and his team, and his subsequent description of those exploits in the best-selling 1957 book The Untouchables (which appeared shortly after Ness’s death from a heart attack), all that might have been relegated to a segment on a History Channel documentary were it not for the sensation caused by the television dramatization of the book, which appeared in two one-hour parts on the Westinghouse Desilu Playhouse in April 1959. So galvanizing was this broadcast that it led immediately to a hit television series, also called The Untouchables, which ran for four years, and to the theatrical release of the two-part dramatization under the title The Scarface Mob. Such a release gambit was very unusual in those days, because television drama production values simply didn’t compare favorably with those of “A” motion pictures. But The Scarface Mob was an exception. The Desilu studio, named of course after Desi Arnaz and Lucille Ball and growing out of the immense artistic and financial success of their situation comedy I Love Lucy, was not exactly lacking for capital and evidently lavished a sizable budget on the Westinghouse Desilu Playhouse production, every bit of which is visible on screen in the form of expensive sets and tricky crane shots. The Scarface Mob actually looks better than most comparable crime films of the late Fifties.

Is The Scarface Mob a film noir? On stylistic grounds, it clearly qualifies (and so does The Untouchables series). The black and white cinematography is intense, dramatic, and positively “Altonesque” (after John Alton, the famed noir cinematographer). With 90-95% of its scenes either nocturnal or in darkened interiors, The Scarface Mob is in fact one of the “darkest” films of the noir era. Although director of photography Charles Schaumer didn’t have any particular noir pedigree, director Phil Karlson did: he had directed as many as ten noir films between 1946 and 1958, including such stand-outs as Kansas City Confidential, 99 River Street, The Phenix City Story, and The Brothers Rico. On thematic grounds, The Scarface Mob is less secure as a noir, since its cops and robbers approach is relatively straightforward and morally uncomplicated. Every noir aficionado will have to judge for themselves the noir-ness of The Scarface Mob (which will now be relatively easy to do, since it is readily available on DVD as part of The Untouchables first season). But I’ll say this: you’ll never see anything that looks more noir in your life.

The Scarface Mob begins in 1929, during the height of the Prohibition Era in Chicago. Booze and beer may be outlawed, but are flowing freely anyway, thanks to the efforts of a criminal empire. For the first half of the movie, key mobster Al Capone is in prison, but makes a dramatic re-appearance (played by Neville Brand) at the start of the second hour (and dominates that hour). Robert Stack’s Eliot Ness is a Treasury Department agent who is fighting Capone’s mob with the assistance of a small crack force of incorruptible, “untouchable” agents. Stack was superb casting for the role: he looks quite a bit like the actual Ness, and embodies the scarily intense integrity that according to those who knew him was a fetish for Ness. The Scarface Mob plays effectively off Ness’s personal life in ways that the subsequent series dropped; he has a fiancée played by Pat Crowley who figures interestingly in the plot and whose scenes with Stack go a long way to humanize him. Stack has moments of emotional intensity toward the end of the film that are unusual for a Fifties leading man, and he is terrific in those moments, reminding us that he was a deserved Oscar-nominated actor (for Written on the Wind in 1956).

An interesting aspect of The Scarface Mob is its conflictedness about Prohibition. Capone was undoubtedly a monster, but it is also undeniably true that as a businessman he was bringing people what they wanted. Many scenes acknowledge this. A brewer caught in a raid complains of the “stupid law that says people cannot drink beer,” to which Ness responds with defensiveness. An alderman asks Ness if he can honestly say that he hasn’t had a drink since Prohibition – and Ness evades the question. Out on the town, Ness and his fiancée have a Cherries Jubilee dessert made with rum and brandy (“Maybe it’s legal pre-Prohibition stock,“ she offers helpfully). Another Untouchable winks at an offer of wine. The film bumps up against the need to paint Ness as a hero while not being totally hypocritical about the failed policy he was enforcing. (Ironically, Ness himself later became an alcoholic.)

A key element in the success of The Scarface Mob and The Untouchables series was the voiceover narration of legendary newsman and gossip columnist Walter Winchell, whose memorable voice was familiar from his radio work and who lent a touch of authenticity, since he was an active media personality during the era depicted. Winchell’s contract for The Untouchables earned him $25,000 per episode, which was a lot for that time (I wouldn’t be surprised if Stack made less). Interestingly, Winchell helped make The Untouchables a success because he was famous, but nowadays he is primarily famous because of The Untouchables. His key role in the establishment of a “culture of celebrity” in America is, however, his lasting historical contribution. (For a wicked take on Winchell, check out Burt Lancaster’s performance in Sweet Smell of Success, 1957.)

Ultimately, the memorability of The Scarface Mob derives in roughly equal parts from Stack’s performance, the Winchell-dominated format reprised successfully in the series, and the crackling direction of Karlson, who has a way with righteous violence (among his later credits is Walking Tall) and big set pieces (the final brewery raid here, a symphony of suds and bullets, is a highlight). Like other great noirs of the late Fifties such as Kiss Me Deadly, The Big Combo, and Sweet Smell of Success, The Scarface Mob has style to burn.