The Third Man and A:ts
Written by Matching Mole, and originally published on The Existential Scoobies.

I have come across statements about the ‘noir’ nature of AtS many times in the months since I first discovered ATPoBtVS. This isn’t too surprising-- the superficial resemblances between AtS and classic film noir are fairly obvious and act to accentuate the fundamental thematic similarities. Angel is a show in which the hero frequently commits un-heroic acts, and further, is placed in the most stereotypical of noir settings, a detective agency in California. Despite the sun drenched reality of the locality, most of the show is filmed in dim, gloomy light. In a part of America that is typically associated with trendy newness, we are constantly confronted with old and often decrepit architecture that often dates back to the 1930s, 40s, and 50s-- the ‘golden’ (?) age of noir. There are no strip malls, freeways, and parking lots in Angel’s LA, or at least we don’t see them in other than the high-speed ‘flyover’ shots the photographers use as scene intros or transitions.

But these are merely surface similarities. Film Noir is an almost entirely American-originated genre tied to a particular historical period. It started in the late 1930s, towards the end of the depression, flourished in the 1940s and the early 1950s, then slowly faded away with the passage of time. Noir’s shady, violent, obsessive, uncertain world was a response to the social upheavals caused by the Great Depression and WW II. A world of stable, small towns and neighborhood life is replaced by drifting populations and big city anonymity. The ‘standard’ themes of Noir include: the power of women to manipulate men, the capricious nature of social forces that can doom an individual through no fault of his own, the uncertainty of personal relationships, the strong possibility of betrayal by those closest to you, how well intentioned actions can go awry, and the destructive power of personal obsession. Does any (or how about all?) of this remind you of AtS?

It is surely not an accident that the far more ‘personal’ big bads of BtVS are replaced in AtS by the ‘impersonal’ evil of Wolfram and Hart with its mild-mannered and constantly changing supervisors. Darla and Lilah are powerful, manipulative women who dominate their more timorous male counterparts in the proud tradition of Barbara Stanwyck. Angel’s actions in the service of good are constantly being sidetracked and misdirected both by his obsessions (Darla, the desire for revenge on W&H, Connor) and by random events from an apparently uncaring universe. And, the relationships between the AI staff and Angel himself are constantly affected by the knowledge that the ultimate betrayal is ‘one moment of perfect happiness’ away.

Recent events on AtS relating to the character of Wesley form a classic film noir plot. Wesley is cut off from his society and his friends at AI. He sees events unfold around him-- the loss of Fred to Gunn, the prophecy predicting Angel’s infanticide, the tightening of Holtz’s plot around Angel-- but he is helpless to change them. He becomes singularly obsessed with the prophecy and his obsession prevents him from averting a tragedy. Instead, he becomes one of its prime instigators. He sees himself forced to choose between two evils, to betray Angel in one way or another. His obsession prevents him from seeing any other option.

Which brings me to the film under consideration: The Third Man, released in 1949 and directed by Carol Reed. This film is not, strictly speaking, an example of film noir. My reference material (Film Noir: An Encyclopedic Reference to the American Style by Alain Silver and Elizabeth Ward) defines film noir as a strictly American form, including only films made in America with American settings.
The Third Man is a film produced by an American studio, and its two lead actors (Joseph Cotton and Orson Welles) are indeed American. But the film is set in Vienna, the screenplay was written by the decidedly non-American Graham Greene, and all of the characters other than those played by Cotton and Welles are European. Still, it contains many classic noir elements and imagery and its themes of conflicted loyalty, obsession, betrayal, and the consequences of actions would fit in well in any ‘true’ film noir as well as AtS.

A brief warning for those of you who have not seen this film: It is impossible for me to discuss it without revealing its central plot development. If you wish to remain unspoiled (and in my opinion the plot is definitely worthy of being seen spoiler free) then read no further-- just go out and rent or buy it and take a look for yourself, I can all but guarantee it’ll be worth your while.

The Third Man is set in Vienna immediately after WW II, a time when the city is controlled by four occupying forces: the French, British, Americans, and Russians. Each force has its own zone, along with a central zone under joint administration. The city is a complex stew of cultures, institutions, and economies, both official and unofficial that exist somewhat independently. There is no single authority to appeal to or to fear, there are instead many. Does this sound similar to the LA of AtS with its pervasive demon influence and ongoing interaction among many different species?

Joseph Cotton plays a naïve and economically desperate writer of western novels with the improbable first name of Holly. He arrives in Vienna with the promise of a job in advertising from his boyhood friend Harry Lime. Upon arrival, he discovers that Lime is dead, having been killed in an auto accident. The British authorities also tell Holly that Lime was a racketeer and they consider his death a blessing. Holly is horrified by their indifference and pursues his own investigation into Lime’s death with the intent of discovering the truth and clearing his friend’s name. His suspicions deepen after discovering that a mysterious ‘third man’ was present at the accident-- a man who was not mentioned by any of the official witnesses. The first two-thirds of the film present a gripping portrayal of Holly’s investigation, driven by his obsessive loyalty to his friend.

At this point Holly makes two key discoveries that turn his world upside down. The first, surprising to him, but not to the viewer, is that Lime was every bit the evil racketeer that the British made him out to be.
His dilution of stolen penicillin has already killed many and doomed many others to lingering illness and even madness. The other, as much as surprise to the viewer as to Holly is that Lime is still alive. Holly’s friend faked his own death, Lime himself was the’third man’ at the accident scene. At this point the themes of loyalty, betrayal, and the price of actions that we have seen in AtS over the past few months are played out in the final 30 minutes or so of The Third Man.

Lime has betrayed both his friend Holly and his (Lime’s) Czech lover Anna (Alida Valli) by hiding his true nature from them even to the extent of trying to get them to help him in his penicillin racketeering without their knowledge. On the other hand he is motivated by a genuine desire to help them both as long as he isn’t inconvenienced too greatly. He doesn’t see what he has done as betrayal but his actions have turned their worlds upside down. The investigation into his death has endangered Anna’s tenuous status in Vienna and triggered Holly’s obsession.

Holly and Anna are each faced with the prospect of betraying Lime, both to the authorities and with one another. Which is the greater crime: allowing the monstrous Lime to go free and unpunished or the betrayal of a friend/lover who has reached out to help you? Should you deny yourself love with someone truly good out of loyalty to someone who deceived you? The cost of Holly’s betrayal is the blood of his friend on his hands and the loss of Anna from his life. Anna loses the promise of safety and security by rejecting the help of the man who betrayed her former lover.

Holly and Harry Lime can be seen as mirror images of one another, much like Angel and Angelus. This relationship is accentuated by the similarity of their first names. Anna calls Holly Harry at several points, emphasizing the close relationship of the two men and her conflicted feelings about them. Holly is also Wesley, seeking to prevent Lime’s destruction and causing it in the end. He also seeks the love of a woman whose heart belongs to another.

I would rate this as one of the greatest films of its type that I have ever seen. The plot, dialogue, and characterization are as magnificent as one would expect from an author like Greene. Vienna comes alive as a fragmented universe of crumbling buildings and anachronistic elegance. The night scenes on the cobblestone streets are evocative of menace. Faces appear out of shadows, shadows move without apparent association with bodies, the population vanishes leaving an empty world looking only too ready for some demon casinos and brothels. Instead we get something far worse, Harry Lime as played by Orson Welles. Welles doesn’t appear until the film is well over half way through and actually has less screen time and dialogue (there is only one scene in which he has more than a couple of lines) than many minor characters. But he fully lives up to the expectations placed on his character in the first hour or so of the film. Welles creates a figure of menace, a monster, whose evil is generated merely by a bland indifference to everyone’s welfare but his own and the initiative to act upon that indifference. Lime would have made an excellent chief executive at Wolfram and Hart.

The film also has a certain wry humour to it. The film’s theme music is played on a zither, a most un-noirlike instrument. It is almost, but not quite, jaunty. Holly’s adventures in Vienna are punctuated by bursts of absurdity. For all the tragedy of his situation, Holly is also a ridiculous figure and we are never completely allowed to forget this.

Again, does this seem reminiscent of a certain vampire with a soul with hair that sticks straight up?