The Film: 4.5/5

Hollywood has always loved to make movies about what a wondrous and comically frustrating place it is to live and work under the thumb of one of the major studios, but you usually had to look to the independently-financed productions to find stories that methodically exposed the entertainment industry’s cold, dark, and cancerous heart for all to see. Robert Aldrich’s 1955 film The Big Knife, adapted for the screen from the controversial stage play by celebrated playwright Clifford Odets, is one of the bleakest and most unforgiving stories ever to be told about the nightmarish pressures one must endure to find fame and fortune in the service of one of these so-called dream factories.

In one of his best performances in an underrated career, Jack Palance plays successful movie star Charlie Castle. The man has it all – money, celebrity, a gorgeous home (where most of the story takes place), and best of all, his loving and supportive wife Marion (Ida Lupino). In truth, Charlie’s status as one of Tinseltown’s biggest and brightest talents has taken a nearly irreparable toll on his marriage and Marion is preparing to walk out on him if he renews his contract for another seven years with the studio that made him a star. She finally persuades Charlie to refuse the renewal for the sake of their matrimony, to the disgust and displeasure of pugnacious studio chief Stanley Shriner Hoff (Rod Steiger) and his reptilian right-hand man Smiley Coy (Wendell Corey).

The Big Knife then proceeds to follow Charlie as his glamorous world begins to crumble around and he struggles to maintain his dignity, integrity, and marriage even as Hoff threatens to reveal his involvement in a crime that could completely ruin his career unless the besieged actor plays ball. For nearly two hours, we bear witness to the methodical moral and physical degradation of a man who simply wanted to make quality motion pictures and enjoy a life of wealth and privilege with the woman he loves. Complicating matters further are a nationally syndicated gossip columnist (Ilka Chase) looking to expose Charlie’s failing marriage to her adoring public, a studio screenwriter (Wesley Addy) with romantic designs on Marion, and the hungry young starlet (Shelley Winters) who desires both a successful career and Charlie’s sweet and loving embrace and is willing to foolishly take on Hoff and his insidious power structure to get them.

Odets knew all too well how one could be chewed up and spit out against a dirty bathroom wall by the Hollywood machine if they let their guard down and believed it was a place where dreams come true. His misadventures in the film industry were one of the inspirations for Joel and Ethan Coen’s scabrous surrealist black comedy masterpiece Barton Fink (the title character even bears a striking resemblance to Odets). He managed to carry on a lucrative career as a writer and director for a few years before the stage beckoned his return and he brought with him the stories and personalities that would form the backbone of what would become his 1949 play The Big Knife. Unflinching in its portrayal of flawed but decent people who stand up to the system and are crushed under its immense power and influence, Odets’ play was destined to end up on the big screen, and that’s exactly what happened six years later when up-and-coming filmmaker Robert Aldrich, having scored two box office hits starring Burt Lancaster and directed the classic film noir Kiss Me Deadly, decided to adapt The Big Knife into a feature film project for his own production company, with United Artists handling the theatrical distribution.

The Big Knife was a powerful and uncompromising drama laced with razor sharp wit and chilling insight, and Aldrich along with screenwriter James Poe (They Shoot Horses, Don’t They?) didn’t pull any punches in translating Odets’ pitch black into a single set gut-punch of pure cinema with the great Jack Palance and Ida Lupino (High Sierra) headlining a terrific cast. Palance is all roguish charisma and coiled rattlesnake fury as the metaphorically cornered movie star Castle and he shares an open wound vulnerability with Lupino and the pain and longing dwelling beneath her eyes. Fresh off his acclaimed performance in Elia Kazan’s On the Waterfront, Rod Steiger oozes volcanic intensity in his quieter moments and explodes like a dramatic hand grenade when the time is right. As the monstrous Hoff, he prowls the comforting confines of the luxurious Castle home chewing up souls and scenery with equal finesse, a show business Satan who dominates even when he’s not on his own turf. That he could make an intimidating man like Charlie Castle all but dive under the nearest table in his presence speaks volumes to the authority Hoff commands and Steiger makes you feel this cold-blooded bastard’s lack of humanity in his unblinking eyes and the low, growling voice he adapts for most of his scenes.

The supporting players are also working at the top of their game here, with Shelley Winters hauntingly embodying the broken hopes and overbearing desperation that will always plague many a young Hollywood wannabe as the troubled (and troublesome) starlet Dixie Evans. Best known for his work with Orson Welles, including the films Citizen Kane and The Lady from Shanghai, Everett Sloane’s performance as Castle’s well-meaning but weak agent Nat is a quiet heartbreaker. The cinematography by the great Ernest Laszlo (Inherit the Wind, Logan’s Run) is effectively crisp and subtle as it transforms the Castles’ living room that serves as the film’s primary location into a hotbed of blackmail, deceit, and worse, and the original music score composed by frequent Aldrich collaborator Frank De Vol knows when to ramp up the drama and emotion and when to play it cool and simply let the powerful performances and acerbic dialogue carry the scenes.

Audio/Video: 4/5

According to the insert booklet included with this release, an original 35mm fine grain positive print of The Big Knife was scanned and restored in 2K resolution. Presented in its intended 1.85:1 widescreen aspect ratio, the 1080p high-definition transfer is a vast improvement over the shoddy and damaged version found on MGM’s 2003 Region 1 DVD. The black and white cinematography looks its absolute best thanks to the stabilized image and thick layer of grain whose consistency throughout the entire film is also a major step up in terms of this film’s home video presentation. The original mono sound mix receives a clean and audible exhibition thanks to Arrow’s English LPCM 2.0 audio track, with dialogue and music coming through with welcome clarity. Fine grain elements were also used for the soundtrack restoration, and though there is a low and persistent buzzing on the track at times, it’s not nearly enough to take away from the overall quality of the mix. English subtitles have also been provided.

Extras: 3/5

Film critics Glenn Kenny and Nick Pinkerton kick in an excellent audio commentary track that delves into many topics of relevance regarding The Big Knife, from its stage origins inspired by Odets’ own experiences in Hollywood to its well-regarded silver screen adaptation. “Bass on Titles” (34 minutes) is a self-directed documentary from 1977 in which the famed graphic artist of celluloid discusses some of his most memorable credits sequences (including The Man with the Golden Arm, Seconds, West Side Story, and Grand Prix, but oddly enough not Psycho) and the visual and thematic concepts that went into their creation. A brief television promo (5 minutes) hosted by Jack Palance was shot on the set with most of the cast and was one of the earliest examples of a behind-the-scenes featurette assembled as part of the marketing campaign for a film. We even get a few glimpses of director Aldrich in action, but this is primarily a puff piece that keeps the darker details of the plot of The Big Knife under wraps. The original theatrical trailer (2 minutes) concludes the disc-based extra features. Arrow’s customary collector’s booklet includes an informative new essay about the film by Nathalie Morrie, film historian and senior archive curator at the British Film Institute, and Gerald Peary’s incisive article “Odets of Hollywood” from the Winter 1986/87 issue of Sight & Sound. There is also a reversible cover featuring new artwork by Sean Phillips.

Overall: 4/5

Anyone familiar with the horror stories about the inner workings of the old Hollywood and the many careers it created and destroyed that have emerged over the years will not find much surprising about plot developments in The Big Knife, but it was a provocative stage play and film adaptation for their time and to this day remains an equally fierce and eloquent drama, one of the best ever made about the film industry. Laced with touches of tragedy, satire, and social commentary, Clifford Odets and Robert Aldrich’s middle finger to the studio system of old is one for the ages and has never looked or sounded better on home video thanks to this superb Blu-ray release from Arrow Video as part of their Arrow Academy line. Highly recommended.