Meg Myles | Through the Shattered Lens

In 1971’s The Anderson Tapes, Sean Connery stars as Duke Anderson.

Duke is a career criminal, a safecracker who has just spent ten years in prison. He’s released, alongside Pops (Stan Gottlieb), who spent so much time behind bars that he missed two wars and the Great Depression, and the quirky Kid (Christopher Walken, making his film debut). Duke immediately hooks up with his former girlfriend, Ingrid (Dyan Cannon), and decides to rob the luxury apartment building where Ingrid is now living.

Of course, Duke will have to put together a crew. It’s not a heist film without a quirky crew, is it? Duke recruits the Kid and Pops. (The Kid is happy to be in the game but he’s not a fan of violence. Pops, meanwhile, has none of the skills necessary for living in the “modern” world and would much rather return to prison.) Duke also brings in the flamboyant Tommy Haskins (an overacting Martin Balsam) and driver Edward Spencer (Dick Anthony Williams). Duke goes to the mob for backing and Pat Angelo (Alan King) gives it to him on the condition that he take along a sociopathic racist named Socks (Val Avery) and that Duke kills Socks at some point. Duke reluctantly agrees.

So far, this probably sounds like a conventional heist film. Director Sidney Lumet mixes comedy and drama with uneven results but, overall, he does a good job of ratcheting up the tension and The Anderson Tapes is a good example of one of my favorite mini-genres, the “New Yorkers will be rude to anyone” genre. At first glance, Sean Connery seems to be playing yet another super smooth operator, a confident criminal with a plan that cannot fail. Duke seems like a criminal version of James Bond, However, as the film progresses, we start to suspect that things might be getting away from Duke. When Duke has to go the Mafia for support and is told that killing Socks is now a part of the job, we see that Duke isn’t as in-control of the situation as we originally assumed. This is the rare Sean Connery film where he has someone pushing him around.

(Apparently, Connery took this role as a part of his effort to escape being typecast as Bond. Perhaps that explains why Duke seems like almost a deconstruction of the James Bond archetype.)

Of course, what really lets us know that Duke isn’t as in-charge as he assumes is the fact that four different law enforcement agencies are following his every move. From the minute he gets out of prison, Duke is being watched. The apartment is bugged. Security cameras records his every move. Once the heist begins, we’re treated to flash forwards of breathless news reports. The Anderson Tapes is less a heist film and more a portrait of the early days of the modern Surveillance State. Of course, none of the agencies make any moves to stop Duke because doing so would reveal their own existence. The film really does become a portrait of a government that has gotten so big and intrusive that it’s also lost the ability to actually do anything.

The Anderson Tapes is entertaining, even if it’s not really one of Lumet’s best. Connery is, as always, a fascinating screen presence and it’s always entertaining to see a young Christopher Walken, showing early sings of the quirkiness that would become his signature style. The Anderson Tapes is a portrait of a world where you never know who might be listening.

If A Man Called Peter was the epitome of a stereotypical 1950s film, The Phenix City Story is the exact opposite. Like A Man Called Peter, The Phenix City Story was released in 1955. And like A Man Called Peter, The Phenix City Story is based on a true story. However, beyond that, A Man Called Peter and The Phenix City Story might as well have been taking place on different planets.

And, in many ways, they were. The Phenix City Story not only takes place in Phenix City, Alabama but it was filmed there as well and featured a few actual citizens in the cast. Not only was The Phenix City Story telling a true story but the story was being told by some of the same people who actually lived through it. That makes The Phenix City Story brutally realistic, with brutal being the key word.

And, just in case we have any doubt about the film’s authenticity, it actually opens with a 15 minute documentary in which Clete Roberts (who was an actual news reporter) interviews several citizens of the town. All of them, speaking in thick Alabama accents and nervously eyeing the camera, assure us that what we are about to see is true. Quite a few of them also tells us that they still live in fear of losing their lives as a result of everything that happened.

What’s amazing is that, once the actual film does get started, it manages to live up to all of that build up. The Phenix City Story is a shocking film that remains powerful even 60 years after it was initially released.

As the film opens, we’re informed that Phenix City, Alabama is home to some of the most dangerous and violent criminals in the state. From his club, crime boss Rhett Tanner (Edward Andrews) runs a shadowy organization that not only controls Phenix City but the entire state of Alabama as well. The police ignore his crimes. The majority of the town’s citizens are too scared to stand up to him. When a returning veteran of the Korean War, John Patterson (Richard Kiley), tries to stand up to Tanner, the result is even more violence. A young black girl is kidnapped and murdered, her body tossed on John’s front lawn as a warning. John’s best friend is killed but Tanner uses his influence to have the death ruled accidental.

Finally, John and a group of other reformers convince John’s father — Albert Patterson (John McIntire) — to run for Attorney General. Albert runs on a reform platform and exposes both the corruption of Phenix City and how Tanner’s power extends through the rest of the state as well. When Albert wins the Democratic primary, he’s gunned down in the street and it’s up to John to avenge his death…

To say that The Phenix City Story is intense would be an understatement. As directed by Phil Karlson, there’s not a single frame of The Phenix City Story that’s not full of menace and danger. The stark black-and-white cinematography is full of shadows and the camera moves almost frantically from scene to scene, occasionally catching glimpses of dark figures committing acts of violence and cars speeding away from who knows what outage. It’s a dark film but, ultimately, it’s also a hopeful one. It suggests that evil will triumph when good men do nothing but that sometimes you can depend on good men — like Albert and John Patterson — to actually step up.

The Phenix City Story shows up on TCM occasionally and you should keep an eye out for it. It’s one of the best B-movies ever made.