The Asphalt Jungle (1950)

Directed by John Huston; produced by Arthur Hornblow Jr

Just released from prison, famous and respected criminal mastermind Doc Reidenschneider (Sam Jaffe) immediately sets in motion a long-cherished plan to rob a jewellery store. For its successful execution, he needs a safe-cracker (Anthony Caruso), a driver (James Whitmore) and a strong-arm man (Sterling Hayden) - a ‘hooligan’ - as well as a stake, provided by a bookie and all-round go-between (Marc Lawrence). Lastly, he needs a fence or someone who knows a fence, a service provided by a crooked lawyer (Louis Calhern). Despite problems, the heist is carried out. But like a small crack in a wall, a simple side-effect can spread, and bring everything down.

One of the best films noir, and probably one of the earliest caper movies taken from the criminals’ point of view, The Asphalt Jungle hasn’t aged a bit. Superb acting, writing and direction combine to make a tense, exciting, entertaining picture in which the viewer rarely knows what is going to happen from one scene to the next, yet every step is logical and, dramatically, inevitable.

The screenplay, adapted by Ben Maddow and director Huston from a novel, eschews clever or memorable lines for words that are realistic and revealing. The characters are the sort the viewer can imagine meeting; they are not deep, nor are they superficial. Jaffe and Hayden’s characters are central, and the latter’s in particular is interesting. Not dumb, he nonetheless can’t fathom people; he says more than once that he “doesn’t get it”, when someone does something the motive of which is pretty obvious. Even so, the mastermind and the hooligan develop an affinity that make them a good team: their unspoken consultation, conducted with a glance, when they realise a double-cross is in the works, and their resultant co-operation in escaping, shows their unlikely sympathy of mind.

Every character in The Asphalt Jungle is well-written, from the relatively decent bookie to the hard-driven police chief (John McIntire, somewhat resembling a later generation’s Hal Holbrook). The girl (Jean Hagen) in love with the hooligan is pathetic in her devotion, and a world away from the actress’s role in Singing’ in the Rain.

Surprisingly, perhaps, most of the criminals show a high degree of loyalty to each other. This makes more sense than the constant and universal betrayals of many movies: whether from altruism, respect or the plain logic of making sure no one gives cause for someone else to inform, these thieves do have a kind of honour among themselves.

The acting carries the excellent characters from script’s page to reality. Hayden and Jaffe lead the cast, the latter revealing more through what he doesn’t say, the former in the emotions of his words. There is a good scene in which he describes the farm on which he grew up, and which he is determined to buy back: the alternation of his face numerous times between happiness and anger demonstrates how motivated the seemingly simple thug is by his feelings. Calhern turns what may have been a standard treacherous, corrupt attorney into someone almost sympathetic. His scene playing cards with the wife (Dorothy Tree) for whom he feels no affection is almost tender. Marilyn Monroe is out of place in her small part as the lawyer’s mistress; the role surely couldn’t have made anyone think bigger things were in the offing for the actress. Strother Martin has, literally, a walk-on as a suspect in a police line-up.

The direction is exactly what is needed. The robbery scene is actually pretty simple, yet tense; I kept expecting the ‘electric eye’ to set off the alarms. When what is coming is foreshadowed - the arrival of two thieves at what is really an ambush, for instance - suspense is effectively created, and surprises are well-handled.

The Asphalt Jungle has been influential on a number of directors and writers, and on other films, and a few changes in technology don’t make it irrelevant today. An expertly-crafted story of crime, avarice, betrayal and humanity never goes out of style.