The Narrow Margin

The Narrow Margin, from 1952, is a B-picture that has gone on to be an influential film for directors in the generation that followed. It is a prime example of late film noir, especially in the use of shadow and light and also in the unities of time and space. It is in many ways a small masterpiece.

The plot is simple--two L.A. cops have been sent to Chicago to gather the widow of a gangster who is to testify before a grand jury. They are taking her back to L.A. by train, and she is to be protected from those who may be incriminated by her testimony. One of the detectives is Charles McGraw, who appeared in dozens of B films, and has a face like a clenched fist. The widow is played to viperish perfection by Marie Windsor. McGraw describes her with typically vivid noir dialogue: "She's a sixty-cent special: cleap, flashy, poison under the gravy."

When McGraw's partner is killed even before they get on the train, he's struck with guilt, though Windsor is just glad to be alive. They board the train in a cat and mouse game with the criminals--as they don't know what Windsor looks like, they tail McGraw, who tries to keep one step ahead of them.

The rest of the film, about eighty-percent of it, takes place in the cramped quarters of the train. Things are further complicated when McGraw strikes up a friendship with a woman (Jacqueline White) traveling with her small son. When the goons see a woman hanging around with him, they assume she's the gangster's widow.

The film was directed by Richard Fleischer, who was the son of Max Fleischer, cartoon impresario and creator of Popeye. This film is such a great example of economy (it's only seventy-two minutes long) that it's amazing to think that Fleischer went on to direct one of the most bloated films in Hollywood history, Doctor Dolittle. The Narrow Margin was shot in thirteen days, yet doesn't have a false note, and employs brilliant use of reflected surfaces, sound transitions (my favorite was a cut from Windsor filing her nails to the clickety-clack of the train wheels) and even a hand-held camera (unusual for those days). The latter is used in a fight scene within a very small train compartment, something that would become de rigueur in seventies cinema but was a novelty in 1952.

I should also note that the plot takes a major twist that is absolutely ingenious and took me by complete surprise. I won't say anything more about it, because to spoil it would be criminal.

The DVD commentary is provided by William Friedkin, who frequently mentions how he unconsciously stole things from this film (most notably the concept of a car chasing a train, which he would use in The French Connection). The influences on dozens of other films can be seen as well. It's a terrific film.