The Mask of Dimitrios (1944)

Directed by Jean Negulesco; produced by Henry Blanke

While on holiday in Istanbul, a writer (Peter Lorre) learns from a Turkish police chief (Kurt Katch) about the death of a master criminal (Zachary Scott). Intrigued, the author researches the villain’s life, meeting a variety of his acquaintances, some who were allies but all, due to the treacherous nature of the man, ultimately his victims. As the exploration deepens, however, the danger the criminal poses becomes more and more real, no matter that his body has now been buried.

Based on an Eric Ambler novel, The Mask of Dimitrios is less a drama or mystery than a study of one man’s villainy, and its effect on his associates. Disguised as a thriller, the movie is nonetheless compelling, for a number of reasons. The story, despite not having much of a plot, is interesting, telling how Dimitrios moved from place to place, crime to crime. Uninterested in building an empire or organisation, ready to betray or use anyone, he makes evil look effortless. A weakness is that Dimitrios’s motivation is never divulged, or even discussed; it was perhaps better understood in the 1940s that malice is simply natural in some people.

A benefit, especially for an history fan such as myself, is the use of real countries and situations. Often, fictional countries will be substituted for genuine nations or, worse, unnamed locations will be used. This was especially prevalent in the 1960s and ‘70s, when the Soviet Union was meant but disguised as an ‘eastern power’ or ‘our strong neighbour’. In The Mask of Dimitrios, an assassination is planned in Bulgaria, tensions are mentioned between Yugoslavia and Italy over the Adriatic Sea; these citations lend verisimilitude that cannot be synthesised.

The acting is very good, very natural. Though Sydney Greenstreet is given top billing for his memorable performance as a vengeful but charming smuggler, Peter Lorre is the lead, and does very well. He is an ordinary man, curious, timid but, despite his fascination with Dimitrios, possessed of strong morals. A scene when, overcome by righteous indignation, he physically attacks a villain, is credible, despite Lorre’s unprepossessing stature.

Scott is also good as the criminal though, as mentioned above, the origins of his evil are never known. Scott is appropriately smooth and companionable when it suits him, contemptuous of life and reputation at other times; very believable. Smaller roles are filled with competent performers; for instance, Faye Emerson, as a former girlfriend of Scott’s, and Katch, as the ruthless but dedicated Turk. (His character, Colonel Haki, appears, played by Orson Welles, in another adaptation of an Ambler book, Journey into Fear, released the year before The Mask of Dimitrios.)

If the viewer is seeking an intricate storyline, a mystery scattered with clues, or an action film, The Mask of Dimitrios will not satisfy. But as a character study, a believable slice of inter-war intrigue and crime, the movie is highly recommended.