Joshua Reviews Orson Welles’ The Stranger [Blu-ray Review]

There are forces of nature, and then there was whatever the hell Orson Welles was. A man whose childhood sounded like a myth, ultimately becoming a living cinematic icon and then having his life itself become a myth like the art world had never seen before, or since.

With legendary pieces of timeless motion picture art under his belt (films like the bewilderingly iconic Citizen Kane) as well as truly medium-pushing experiments like the films Chimes At Midnight or especially F For Fake, his entire canon has become a body of work both studied and utterly revered. However, not every picture is unanimously loved. With as many Citizen Kanes and The Magnificent Ambersons as he had Chimes At Midnight, Welles went from rookie filmmaker with total creative control and final cut to a journeyman auteur who seemed unable to (and attribute it to either his ever changing interests or something else) really give himself over to one complete motion picture (various incomplete films fill his canon too).

That said, even the least talked about Orson Welles film has more style and intrigue per square inch than most pictures in the history of film, and a film like The Stranger, which is now available on Blu-ray from Kino, is no different.

The film, directed by Welles in one of his most aesthetically subdued efforts, stars Welles opposite a rarely-better Edward G. Robinson who, as a government agent, is on the hunt for a man he believes to actually be a Nazi fugitive named Franz Kindler. Welles, who has not only taken the name of Charles Rankin, but has also caught the eye of a Supreme Court justice’s daughter, Mary Longstreet (Loretta Young), marries the lovely lady as just one step in his ever growing plan to help spread his beliefs. Often sited as a minor piece of work in the canon of Welles (along with something like The Trial), this film may be one of Welles’ most aesthetically muted pictures, but is not without some genuinely enthralling filmmaking, and a trio of thrilling lead performances.

Often seen in relatively poor quality thanks to its status as public domain, Kino has finally brought the film to Blu-ray via a 35mm restoration via the Library Of Congress, and it has breathed new life into what is an underrated gem of a film from one of cinema’s greatest artists. With gorgeous black and white photography from Spartacus cinematographer Russell Metty, the film holds within it a haunting sense of style that is definitively Wellesian. Each frame is as deftly crafted as the last, and is a really interesting look at a director in between two different points in his aesthetic career. With the epics Kane and Ambersons fully behind him and noir masterpieces like Touch Of Evil so firmly in his sights, this film is a beautifully crafted blend of the noir trappings that he would so expertly play on (particularly the use of photography and lighting) and yet has the character beats that made his previous work so refreshing and still very much timeless.

With a script from Anthony Veiller (with alleged and uncredited re-writes from Welles and John Huston), the film takes this small town setting and turns out a taut and thrilling chiller of a post-war tome. Welles was rather adamant about his dislike for this picture, and yet it seems oddly fitting of him to make this type of picture. Bewilderingly political, this post war masterpiece is full of tension and moments of genuine shock, while all playing from a solid script, and Welles’ firm aesthetic eye.

However, nothing quite matches up to the performances that Welles shoots here. Both Welles and Robinson are absolutely fantastic, particularly the former, who turns in a deliciously subtle performance, with a sense of ease and freedom that any of Welles’ great performances ooze out. Robinson is equally great, turning in a performance that is very much definitive of his career. With a face made for cinema (and Blu-ray), Robinson is as magnetic a screen presence as Welles, and the two of them facing off in a handful of scenes is the stuff cinematic dreams are made of. It’s truly a sight to behold.  Toss in a finale that finds every creative mind in this picture firing at the absolute height of their powers, and you have a film that should rightly be recognized as one of Welles’ most intriguing pictures.

Admittedly a film that has not really seen the light of day outside of various public domain box sets and a handful of ill-made DVD releases (even a forgettable Blu-ray from Film Chest), this release here is a real wonder. Led by a commentary from writer Bret Wood, the film has immense replay value particularly thanks to this engaging and lively commentary track. An informational film entitled Death Mills is included as footage from the short was placed within the film, and a handful of radio plays led by Welles himself, all of which are eminently playable. Toss in a trailer and an image gallery, as well as a transfer that proves this film still has some aesthetic life in it despite some horrible previous releases, and you have a release that needs to be owned by any cinephile, or Orson Welles completists alike.