The films of Sam Fuller are tough – It’s imprinted on their
DNA. Fuller wasn’t just a Hollywood pseudo-tough guy poseur. Having worked in
his teens as a crime reporter, and having worked a pulp writer, and as an
infantryman in WWII, he earned his bona fides as a hardscrabble guy. That
background is why his films have that hard edge to them that never seems
anything but genuine. My favorite Fuller films are film like that, films that
have that gruff, unsentimental vibe to them. I’m thinking of Pickup on South
Street, and of Steel Helmet, with its crusty, cigar-chomping sergeant played by
Gene Evans (a Fuller avatar if there ever was one!). But most of all I think of
my favorite Fuller film, the little-seen Underworld USA from 1961.
Underworld belongs in the tradition of
man-going-after-bad-guys-who- done-him-wrong gangster films, but I think the
reason I think it stands apart from most of them, is the way it treats its
“hero” Tully Devlin (Cliff Robertson). This is a guy who is as sentimental as
a set of brass knuckles - a true anti-hero.
When a teenaged Tully (David Kent) witnesses his father’s
murder, he’s not a babe in the woods. He is already someone who seems destined
for jail as a thief. We’ve already seen
him lift a wallet off a drunk. The father is a street hustler also, and that’s
probably why he found himself in that dark alley at the wrong time. When the
cops come to investigate the crime, Tully doesn’t co-operate, even though he
knows one of the killers. In his mind, he’s already planning his revenge.
The film shows Tully getting in more trouble, and going to
jail. This development is beyond inevitable – it’s intentional. Tully throws a rock
through a window when he knows there’s a copy right around the corner.
It’s while he is in prison that he learns that one of the murderers
is in the same jail, and is near death. Tully arranges to get transferred to
the prison clinic in order to get close to the dying man. When he finally confronts
the killer, it’s a bit unsettling. The old man is sick and very close to the
end, and when Tully tells him who he is, the killer begs for forgiveness. Tully
coldly informs him that he will forgive him - If he gives the names of the
other three killers. I find myself conflicted in this scene. Although I want
the killers to pay for their crime, it’s easy to feel pity for the dying man, because
he seeks absolution for his crime. Tully’s forgiveness, however, isn’t genuine –
It’s just a step in the process. He’s the one who comes across as the monster.
Tully now finds himself out of jail, and now knows the names
of the men he wants. Problem is that all three are powerful crime lords, and
getting to them will be next to impossible. During a late-night spying session
at the home of one of the killers, he catches a break. A hired killer (a cool and cruel Richard
Rust) brings in a female drug mule with the intention of killing her. Tully
steps in to save her, and steals some of the dope, which he uses to give him an in with the
mob.
I’m always fascinated by the relationship between Tully and
the Rust character Gus. Gus is basically assigned to train Tully, and seems to
give off the vibe of being a pretty good guy. There is a scene where Gus talks
how the mob uses charity work as a front for their activities. He describes how
the mob boss opens up his gigantic pool, and how he, Gus, actually acted as a
lifeguard on one occasion, stating “I liked that.”
I think this little section is included because there is a later
scene where Gus runs down a little girl in cold blood. It’s a harrowing scene
of cruelty, and it is given even more impact because it’s done by this smiling
ex lifeguard. Despite his demeanor, Gus is capable of anything.
Although it is stretching it a bit to call it a romance,
there is a relationship that develops between Tully and the drug girl, Cuddles
(Dolores Dorn). He saves her, and brings her home to have his surrogate mother
(Beatrice Kay) look after her, but he isn’t getting too close. When she makes an offhand remark about their
possibly getting married, his response cuts to the bone: “You must be on the
needle”. It’s willfully hurtful, and it demonstrates finally that Tully is
deeply damaged. The “mother” character Sandy is the conscience in this film.
She’s the one who tells him that he is only killing himself with his thirst for
revenge, and that he doesn’t seem to notice this woman who cares for him.
Tully settles into a relationship with a District Attorney (Larry
Gates), and uses this to start to destroy the syndicate from within. The DA
feeds him false information, and he presents it back to the mob bosses, who start
knocking each other off. There’s a striking scene where Tully goes to confront
one of the bosses just before Gus is scheduled to kill him. Tully beats
the shit out of the older man, while telling about how he watched his father
get brutalized years before. It’s instructive to see how Fuller shoots this
scene. We see the crook groaning in pain on the floor, while the ostensible “good
guy’ hovers over him and stalks him as he tries to crawl away. Again, Tully is portrayed
as the heavy here.
With all the killers finally dead, Tully goes back to
Cuddles and starts talking about marriage. This change in him is striking, and
it points up that his quest for the death of these men has robbed him of much
of his humanity. With the quest completed, it’s like a malignancy has been cut
out of him. The DA tries to tell him that there is still work to do – The big
boss is still out there, but Tully isn’t interested. Ah, but it’s never that simple, is it? Tully
is now expected to help Gus wipe out the rest of the family of the little girl,
and one other person, as well – Cuddles.
Underworld USA is a noir, and as such, touches on a lot of the themes
that were central to Noir: The damaged hero, the misguided obsession, the
central character finding himself trapped in a situation he should have walked
away from. What elevates Underworld for me is the way that Fuller doesn’t let
himself be swayed by the temptation to sand off any of the edges from his
characters. He treats Tully the way he treats the bad guys; capable of cruelty and
evil. The world portrayed here isn’t pretty, and neither are its people.
My 2006 commentary on Allan Baron’s Blast of Silence, a
cinematic cousin of Underworld USA
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