I like I WALK ALONE. It is an interesting example of film noir, but it also has curious slants of it's own. It is also one of the first pairings of Kirk Douglas and Burt Lancaster in film. Douglas and Lancaster were so well balanced in their movies that they were interchangeable. While in most of them they were allies or buddies (THE DEVIL'S DESCIPLE, GUNFIGHT AT O.K. CORRAL, TOUGH GUYS) they could alternate as the villain against each other. It's hard to find a pair of actors who did this as well or at all. Matthau and Lemmon usually were in comedies (although they both could be at loggerheads on some ethical points or past history). Grant and Ralph Bellamy are normally love rivals (Bellamy being hopelessly outclassed). Crosby and Fitzgerald are usually in a battle of the generations, and a confrontation of two street smart types. And so it goes in other male pairings.
SPOILERS AHEAD: Here, Kirk is the villain - he got away with a large stolen cash prize in a crime back in the 1920s/early 1930s. His partner Burt got caught, and was sent to prison for 14 years (actually rather lucky for him - a cop was killed). Burt is now out of prison, and he discovers that Kirk is quite a social success. He took the money and used it to build a gang, but he was smart enough to use his profits to get a legitimate sheen to his image: he's a successful "nightclub" owner with many wealthy friends and customers. One of the best moments early in the film is when Lancaster sees newspapers and magazines that show Douglas swanning with the swells (even wearing top hat and overcoat in a rotogravure shot). Not quite like the good old Dillinger days, or even Al Capone.
Other films had touched upon the "legitimization" of mob money as time passed. In THE ROARING TWENTIES, while Jimmy Cagney is building up his hooch empire he invests the money in a legitimate taxi company (an early example of money laundering), only to lose everything when the stock market crashes. Ironically, his untrustworthy second-in-command (Humphrey Bogart) never diversifies but keeps to the illegal activities. He not only survives the crash, but he profits by it (taking over Cagney's property - though he contemptuously leaves him one taxicab). But even he tries to pick up a better public image - you see him practicing his putting in his office at one point.
Lancaster confronts Douglas in his nightclub, only to be brought into the modern world of organized crime. All Lancaster really wants is his half of the original money. But as Douglas' accountant, Wendell Corey, says they can't just give him the cash as it has been invested throughout Douglas's financial empire. Lancaster is left without cash, and led a chase as well by Douglas using Lizbeth Scott as femme fatale bait. He ends up getting beaten (by Mike Mazurki). But he remains determined to beat Douglas and get his share.
He does in a manner that today would not pass muster. He entraps Douglas by pretending to have him at the end of a loaded gun, forcing Douglas to make a confession before the police. Douglas, naturally frightened, does admit information that only the criminal involved in the crime would have known, but at the end, he sneers at Lancaster saying that the confession was gotten under duress. But then Lancaster shows his gun was empty. Civil libertarians today would denounce this trick, saying the confession was tainted. In 1948 it was perfectly legal.
SPOILERS AHEAD: Here, Kirk is the villain - he got away with a large stolen cash prize in a crime back in the 1920s/early 1930s. His partner Burt got caught, and was sent to prison for 14 years (actually rather lucky for him - a cop was killed). Burt is now out of prison, and he discovers that Kirk is quite a social success. He took the money and used it to build a gang, but he was smart enough to use his profits to get a legitimate sheen to his image: he's a successful "nightclub" owner with many wealthy friends and customers. One of the best moments early in the film is when Lancaster sees newspapers and magazines that show Douglas swanning with the swells (even wearing top hat and overcoat in a rotogravure shot). Not quite like the good old Dillinger days, or even Al Capone.
Other films had touched upon the "legitimization" of mob money as time passed. In THE ROARING TWENTIES, while Jimmy Cagney is building up his hooch empire he invests the money in a legitimate taxi company (an early example of money laundering), only to lose everything when the stock market crashes. Ironically, his untrustworthy second-in-command (Humphrey Bogart) never diversifies but keeps to the illegal activities. He not only survives the crash, but he profits by it (taking over Cagney's property - though he contemptuously leaves him one taxicab). But even he tries to pick up a better public image - you see him practicing his putting in his office at one point.
Lancaster confronts Douglas in his nightclub, only to be brought into the modern world of organized crime. All Lancaster really wants is his half of the original money. But as Douglas' accountant, Wendell Corey, says they can't just give him the cash as it has been invested throughout Douglas's financial empire. Lancaster is left without cash, and led a chase as well by Douglas using Lizbeth Scott as femme fatale bait. He ends up getting beaten (by Mike Mazurki). But he remains determined to beat Douglas and get his share.
He does in a manner that today would not pass muster. He entraps Douglas by pretending to have him at the end of a loaded gun, forcing Douglas to make a confession before the police. Douglas, naturally frightened, does admit information that only the criminal involved in the crime would have known, but at the end, he sneers at Lancaster saying that the confession was gotten under duress. But then Lancaster shows his gun was empty. Civil libertarians today would denounce this trick, saying the confession was tainted. In 1948 it was perfectly legal.