The Three Furies rise from the blood of the innocent to mercilessly torment wicked men. And criminal defense attorney Lee Gentry (Claude Rains) is one wicked fucker. The film is directed by its own terrific triptych with legendary DP Lee Garmes doing much of the work, handling Director’s duties and photographing this strange and beautiful film. The look of this film precedes the film Noir genre and may have birthed it like the Furies themselves from the violent urban blood of modernity. The opening sequence is fantastic in both editing and composition: we stare down the barrel of a handgun and see a montage of murders in extreme close-up and shadows, with blood dripping upon the floor. From each blood spatter rises an avenging Fury, their naked fitness wrapped in silken shrouds, demons descending upon the Earth to punish dark desires. Their beautiful feminine bodies (barely concealed by the see-through shrouds) belie their intentions, soon revealed in close-ups of their ghostly faces shrieking with anger and accusation while men commit adultery and murder upon their virgin prey. The three sisters hunt through the NYC skyline, shattering the skyscraper horizon as shards of broken glass rain down upon the streets to form the film’s title. Holy shit is this the greatest opening sequence I’ve ever seen! Though this was released in August of 1934, shortly after the enactment of stricter censorship, it seems this one slipped through the cracks. Since this was filmed on Long Island and not Hollywood, I suspect it may have done just that!
Though the acting is superb, it’s the lighting and compositions that make this film stand out. Lee Garmes often films Gentry from low angle with key lighting to create a looming darkness upon Gentry’s handsome demeanor. His close-ups also develop an internal complicity between physical action and the intellect: the Actus Reus and Mens Rea, so to speak. It’s no surprise that Garmes would eventually photograph some of the great Noir films such as NIGHTMARE ALLEY (1947).
The story itself is a love triangle of the obtuse kind, as one point believes itself to be the sharpest but is actually quite dull in its passionless intellectualism. That point is our protagonist Lee Gentry, a criminal defense attorney who only saves accused murderers from the chair to bolster his own ego. This is a man who isn’t above creating his own evidence to ensure acquittal, which is suggested by the threat of Grand Jury indictment from the DA. Gentry considers himself the Übermensch, morally and ethically superior to the insect-like masses teaming below him on the streets. This speech foreshadows Harry Lime’s Ferris Wheel confessional 15 years later! Soon, Gentry wishes to end a sultry relationship with cabaret singer Carmen Brown (Margo) while proposing to the more upscale Katy Costello (Whitney Bourne). But he can’t just end it and lose face, so he engineers a plot that will catch Carmen in a seemingly deceitful web with her ex, so he can play the righteous role. Of course, this ends up with her shot and Gentry literally holding the smoking gun!
As his intellect walks him through every nuance of evidence to conceal the crime (shown as a ghostly double exposure) he fails to account for the human element. As his anxiety spirals out of control towards self-imposed madness, he commits another crime that won’t be so easily defended in court! I suppose one man’s evil is another man’s poetic justice.
Final Grade: (B+)