Written by Andreas Babiolakis

This review is a part of the Palme d’Or Project: a review of every single Palme d’Or winner at Cannes Film Festival. This is a Grand Prix winner: what the Palme d’Or was originally called before 1955. The Third Man won the first solo Grand Prix award in 1949, as the 1948 Cannes Film Festival was cancelled due to budgetary concerns.

The film was selected by the following jury.
Jury President: Georges Huisman.
Jury: Jules Romains, Mme. Georges Bidault, Georges Charensol, Paul Colin, Roger Désormière, Jacques-Pierre Frogerais, Étienne Gilson, Paul Gosset, Georges Raguis, Rene-Jeanne, Carlo Rim.

It was a regular day, at the risk of being just as routine as the others. Holly Martins was going to visit an old friend, Harry Lime, who had a gig lined up for him. It could have been the start of something fresh for Martins, at least for a little while (before he dips his toes, and subsequently plunge, into the pool of mundanity once more). Things would be routine again, but at least Martins was set to meet an old acquaintance. Until that was no longer the case. Martins arrives in Vienna to learn that his old friend Harry Lime had died: he was slammed into by a car. What was meant to be a reunion became the convenient availability for a funeral. However, something is not right… there is a discrepancy about how many men carried away Lime's body from the scene of the accident: reports dictate that either two or three people were there. If the former is true, and something was up, who was that third man?

Carol Reed's murky, atmospheric The Third Man is unquestionably one of the greatest films noir ever made. It has all of the tropes of the style (a plagued protagonist, a warped tale of morality, a case that doesn't add up, and a female character [Lime's girlfriend, Anna] that could possibly be a femme fatale). It also doesn't stop short with these conventions. No. Screenwriter Graham Greene opts to make a self aware, intricate, dynamic story that can separate itself from the films noir of its time. Martins is an author: someone who likely wants to distance himself from the subject matters of his work when he is on a trip. Yet here he is with a reality that is far more twisted than anything he could have ever come up with. In this case, it is the narrative that stumps the author: as if nothing he writes could ever top this.

Martins is played very well by Joseph Cotten, whose authentic curiosity surrounding his departed friend makes the search for answers quite electric. Anna, performed by Alida Valli, is also fascinating, as she seems like a character who hasn't instigated anything and wants nothing to do with controversy, and her distance also helps propel Martins' need to learn more about what is really going on. The award for my favourite performance here is undoubtedly Orson Welles as Lime, and I think it's some of the best casting I've ever seen. Every time he pops up on the screen, it's like looking at a ghost of someone familiar that has passed away, and yet his presence stirs more questions than solace. He is menacing yet recognizable; it makes perfect sense to get the star and mastermind of Citizen Kane to shock audiences yet again.

The wonderland set up for these stars allows them to play in a highly produced version of the darkest corridors of our world. Anton Karas' zither-driven score leaves a more personal feeling than a traditional orchestral setup, and leaves The Third Man truly unique as a film amidst its traditional contemporaries. Reed was mocked for the camera angles that Robert Krasker implemented to create a skewed, uncomfortable world of power dynamics (if anyone understood these methods right off the bat, it would be star Welles). Then there's the literal world itself, with a series of locations that likely have never been filmed better, at least for a number of examples (ranging from ferris wheels to sewer tunnels, has any other film used them more wisely since?).

All of this is great, but what makes The Third Man untouchable? The story, which dishes out one of the coldest takes on films noir you'll ever see. No one comes out of this looking innocent, even if they had the best intentions. The world itself is impossible to live in and appreciate, and even the most innocent of locations loom over inhabitants; Lime's very philosophy was that these aren't ideal living quarters. All in all, The Third Man is a relentlessly thrilling story about a hidden underworld, and the subdued cynicism within all of us that will rise to the surface with enough encouragement. Cannes is usually pretty good with rewarding films that will be recognized for their brilliance as the years go by. Not The Third Man. There's no way this wasn't destined to be an instant classic. It is as loved to this day as it ever was, and it continues to be influential in so many ways (artistically and literary). If there was ever a film that could keep spirits up and Cannes' flame going in between the two years it had to cancel due to a lack of financial success, it would be The Third Man: one of the best films of its decade, of its style, and of its medium.

Andreas Babiolakis has a Masters degree in Film and Photography Preservation and Collections Management from Toronto Metropolitan University, as well as a Bachelors degree in Cinema Studies from York University. His favourite times of year are the Criterion Collection flash sales and the annual Toronto International Film Festival.