Night Has a Thousand Eyes (1948)

Johnny Triton (Edward G. Robinson) has earned a living as a marginally famous mentalist, performing to mildly-amused nightclub crowds, who marvel at his supposed skillfulness at telling their future, which he does through logic and educated guessing. However, he has recently come to discover that he is indeed able to get visions of the future, particularly when it comes to seeing others in danger. He uses this skill well, alerting his audiences and acquaintances to impending doom, and manages to save quite a few lives in the process. However, he soon realizes that this is both a blessing and a curse, especially when he comes to know Jean Courtland (Gail Rusell), the glamorous daughter of a prominent social figure, who Triton comes to learn will die very soon in a dreadful accident, which he soon realizes is actually part of a murder plot involving some very notable public individuals who are seeking wealth and influence, by any means necessary. Triton finds himself in a difficult position – he can’t avoid his own morals forcing him to speak out against the impending dangers that are about to befall the young woman, but it’s difficult to do so without becoming a suspect in the case, since he has already drawn so much attention to himself and his supposed prophecies, if they were to become true (which they most certainly will), those who are agnostic to his skills may struggle to believe that it was merely a vision, rather than an admission of guilt. He needs to race against time to try and prevent it, while still convincing those around him that he is only trying to help prevent a death, rather than being the cause of it, a much more difficult exercise than he imagined it would be.

Night Has a Thousand Eyes, John Farrow’s fascinating adaptation of Cornell Woolrich’s popular mystery novel, dares to ask the question of how we’d feel if we had the ability to see the future, but not the power to change it. Many films have asked this question, and this one in particular seems to be fully-intent on exploring the psychological toll it can take on a clairvoyant to realize the extents to which their skills can be used to warn those around them of impending danger. Seamlessly blending together film noir with a sense of surrealism, Farrow’s adaptation is a compelling glimpse into the trials and tribulations of a man who discovers that his chosen vocation – that of a nightclub mentalist, is not nearly as phoney as he initially thought, especially when his visions start to manifest into real events. A writer with a cheeky sense of humour and a penchant for the morbid, Woolrich was capable of pulling together some paltry narrative strands and turning them into something that isn’t any short of absolutely magical in its own way – and by taking on this story (which may have been quite intimidating, considering the endless amount of provocative commentary it had embedded underneath its simple narrative), Farrow puts together a riveting drama that may be relatively small in scale, but has a heartfulness and sophistication that can rival any other similarly-themed films, especially those from this particular era, where many filmmakers were intent on exploring the human mind through the guise of mysterious, evocative stories that situate us in an unsettling world, uncovering the deeper truths, layer by layer, until all that is left is a bleak representation of reality, filtered through the lens of speculative fiction.

As someone with a vaguely perverse mind, and a tendency to be attracted to darker stories, Woolrich’s work was both a blessing and curse for his cinematic contemporaries, since his novels were distinctly unique, but had a flavour of nihilism that made them so much more complex than the run-of-the-mill pulp fiction novels that were popular at the time. Night Has a Thousand Eyes seems like the perfect project for a film noir produced at this particular juncture – the genre had settled comfortably into a niche, but was far from having outstayed its welcome, leaving a gap for any revolutionary filmmaker to come in and attempt to redefine the fundamental tenets that made it so compelling, without necessarily being too deconstructive in their critique. Night Has a Thousand Eyes is neither a detective story, nor even much of a mystery film – but it takes the form of it, only from the other angle, since the narrative centres on a man who has the answers, but not the method or reasoning behind it. It’s a very effective subversion that serves the film exceptionally well, especially when it comes to taking apart the smaller idiosyncrasies and presenting them in a way that seems refreshing, but consistent with what we’ve seen before. On a structural level, the film hits the same familiar beats – but it is when it comes to the plot itself, and its tendency to go against the grain in many instances, Night Has a Thousand Eyes is a strangely enticing provocation of conventions, especially in the quieter moments where it begins to unravel into an unnerving portrait of human behaviour.

Edward G. Robinson anchors the film, and it’s difficult to think of many actors better suited to the part of Johnny Triton more than him. The character is not one that is traditionally heroic – he’s a middle-aged, failed entertainer who makes a living conducting cheap magic tricks in sleazy nightclubs. The role called for someone who could strip the role of any traditional heroism from the outset, but gradually demonstrate a keen sense of undying humanity throughout the film. A slight change of pace for Robinson, who was used to playing more villainous characters, Night Has a Thousand Eyes was a challenge he seemed all the more willing to rise to, occupying every aspect of the character with the alertness and dedication that is so indicative of his class of performer. He is simply transcendent, and without his spirited performance, it’s not likely that Farrow would’ve been able to convincingly tell this story, since there is so much pathos underpinning the character, which radiates throughout the entire film. He commands the screen with his subtle, everyman charms, and manages to sell every moment of a film that could’ve easily come to be seen as overly absurd had there not been such a spirited actor leading it. Robinson is complemented wonderfully by the supporting cast, with Gail Russell and John Lund having very compelling roles as acquaintances of Triton that find themselves inadvertently mixed up in his newfound gift for seeing the future, which is not nearly as profitable as they imagined it would be, a realization that comes only when they discover that they are present in his visions as well. They all contribute to the general sense of unease that persists throughout the film, and give it a great deal of depth and nuance that only makes it even more compelling.

Night Has a Thousand Eyes is a small but compelling film that combines elements of noir and speculative fiction in its pursuit of an effective adaptation of a novel that has many twists and turns, not all of which are easily represented on film. John Farrow had a very specific authorial voice that he uses perfectly in this film, constructing a tightly-wound thriller that keeps us on the edge of our seats, but also doesn’t neglect to give some insights into deeper concepts that exist below the superficial level that most films in this genre would be content to limit themselves to exploring. It isn’t easy to make something so simple, yet so intricately-plotted, with each detail playing a fundamental role in piecing together the broader puzzle, which gradually happens as we venture further into this film and come to understand the extent to which it is willing to go in order to entertain and enthral the audience. It’s not a particularly complex film in theory, and Farrow makes sure to keep it relatively straightforward, instead focusing much of his attention on the gradual deconstruction of more notable tropes, which help push Night Has a Thousand Eyes to the point where it is far from derivative, but instead a rousing, poignant thriller with a sinister streak that never fully abates, and instead only proves to make this film even more layered in meaning and a hopelessly dark understanding of the human condition and its desire for dominance.

Leave a comment