Pickup on South Street
Crime has multiple degrees of severity, based on its detrimental impact on our society. Take the legal system's way of looking at it, where some crimes are judged to be worse than others, and thus so are the consequences. For instance, being convicted for the crime of treason can result in the death penalty, while theft can get you a fine and/or jail time. But crimes don't exist within a vacuum, and committing one can lead to other charges. Consider three-time convicted pickpocket Skip McCoy (Richard Widmark), who--unbeknownst to him--lifts a strip of film containing a secret government formula while he's pilfering the contents of the purse of a woman named Candy (Jean Peters), a fellow passenger on a subway train. Before long, his grift draws the attention of both the cops and the commies, both of whom are looking to get their hands on this secret--one that could sway the balance of power between East and West.
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Pickup on South Street was made in 1953, at the height of the "Red Scare", a term used to describe feelings of anxiety toward the spread of communism during the Cold War. This is the backdrop for what is otherwise a story that checks many of the familiar film noir boxes, like snappy dialogue, a morally ambiguous protagonist (Skip), and the ongoing battle between crime and the law in an urban backdrop, this time in New York City. The film opens with the eponymous "pickup", where we get to see Skip's talents at work. He uses a prop (a newspaper) to shield his hands from attention and so that he can blend in better on the crowded train. He moves close to Candy, and interestingly, he locks eyes with her. There is a degree of attraction right from the start, which is something important since these two strangers continually cross paths for the rest of the story. Skip's a pro at pickpocketing, but even he couldn't have anticipated that Candy was being watched by a government agent named Zara (Willis Bouchey), who already suspected that Candy was going to hand off the stolen film to someone else. She would have delivered it to her perpetually anxious (and sweaty) ex-boyfriend, Joey (Richard Kiley), who commissioned her for the crime in the first place. Suddenly, Skip finds that his old nemesis, a cop named Captain Dan Tiger (Murvyn Vye), has a new justification for busting his chops (metaphorically speaking, at least), after he drags him in to be interrogated about the film. Skip begins to get wise that whatever he picked up off of Candy is valuable enough to warrant both the cops and the feds getting involved, and it's enough for them to go so far as to offer to "whitewash" his criminal record. And so Skip finds that he's holding all the cards...or the joker at least.
A great deal of the enjoyment of watching Pickup on South Street rests on its enthusiastic performances. Widmark is great at playing the tough and snarky Skip, who enjoys watching the law flounder to try to pin yet another rap on him. He knowingly antagonizes Captain Tiger, and you can sense that there's no love lost between this cop-and-robber duo. Although Jean Peters never attained superstardom as a noir sex symbol--as it happens, she made a deliberate point to avoid this type of casting--she fills the role as an alluring dame with a flexible moral compass in Pickup on South Street with aplomb. Candy is torn between her primal attraction to Skip--who is actually a pretty decent guy, for a crook--and her misguided sense of allegiance to Joey, who is a scumbag who's been using her to appease his communist superiors. But one of the standout performances here belongs to the legendary character actor, Thelma Ritter, who plays "Moe", a combination gray market tie dealer (yes, really) and police informant. Like many of Ritter's performances, she always has a punchy quip at the ready, and her characters are often infused with intelligence and sweetness all at the same time--a rare juggling act in these kinds of movies. Her morbidly funny goal for saving up the wad of cash she carries around, gleaned from informing on crooks like Skip--who doesn't begrudge her trying to make a living--is that she's saving up to be buried in an exclusive cemetery on Long Island, rather than getting dumped in a "potter's field" when she dies. (It's a motivation, I'll give her that.) Each scene in Pickup on South Street feels like a dynamic confrontation between these bold characters as the plot unfolds. Widmark gets some killer lines, like when he barks back "are you waiving the flag at me?" to Captain Tiger and Zara after they point out that Skip's theft is a matter of national security. The growing attraction between Candy and Skip can only be chalked up to some instinctual urge, since neither treat the other with a great deal of civility for much of the movie, although they're more alike than either would care to admit. Ultimately, Pickup on South Street is a tale of morality and patriotism. Sure, Skip steals, and he claims that he doesn't care where he gets his money from. But Skip eventually has a crisis of conscience that, surprisingly, has him doing the government's job for them, to smash the red conspiracy operating on these American streets. It's funny to think that none other than J. Edgar Hoover was critical of this film when it all but "waves the flag" at its audience in the end. (Not a criticism, just an observation.) One of the best statements to underscore this comes from Moe, who plainly observes that she doesn't know why she doesn't like communists--she just knows that she doesn't. As a result, patriotic American audiences can rest assured when "good triumphs over the evil empire" at the end of Pickup on South Street. It's an expected conclusion, but nevertheless justified here, since all of the commies are snakes, and thieves like Skip apparently still have some honor left within them, because they uphold traditional American values. (Is stealing one of those values? Let's not think too hard on that one.)
Recommended for: Fans of a hard-edged film noir with a liberal dose of anti-communist sentiment infused into the story. Pickup on South Street is a sharp and fast-paced crime film, a classic of the genre, and a great showcase for some really vivid performances.
A great deal of the enjoyment of watching Pickup on South Street rests on its enthusiastic performances. Widmark is great at playing the tough and snarky Skip, who enjoys watching the law flounder to try to pin yet another rap on him. He knowingly antagonizes Captain Tiger, and you can sense that there's no love lost between this cop-and-robber duo. Although Jean Peters never attained superstardom as a noir sex symbol--as it happens, she made a deliberate point to avoid this type of casting--she fills the role as an alluring dame with a flexible moral compass in Pickup on South Street with aplomb. Candy is torn between her primal attraction to Skip--who is actually a pretty decent guy, for a crook--and her misguided sense of allegiance to Joey, who is a scumbag who's been using her to appease his communist superiors. But one of the standout performances here belongs to the legendary character actor, Thelma Ritter, who plays "Moe", a combination gray market tie dealer (yes, really) and police informant. Like many of Ritter's performances, she always has a punchy quip at the ready, and her characters are often infused with intelligence and sweetness all at the same time--a rare juggling act in these kinds of movies. Her morbidly funny goal for saving up the wad of cash she carries around, gleaned from informing on crooks like Skip--who doesn't begrudge her trying to make a living--is that she's saving up to be buried in an exclusive cemetery on Long Island, rather than getting dumped in a "potter's field" when she dies. (It's a motivation, I'll give her that.) Each scene in Pickup on South Street feels like a dynamic confrontation between these bold characters as the plot unfolds. Widmark gets some killer lines, like when he barks back "are you waiving the flag at me?" to Captain Tiger and Zara after they point out that Skip's theft is a matter of national security. The growing attraction between Candy and Skip can only be chalked up to some instinctual urge, since neither treat the other with a great deal of civility for much of the movie, although they're more alike than either would care to admit. Ultimately, Pickup on South Street is a tale of morality and patriotism. Sure, Skip steals, and he claims that he doesn't care where he gets his money from. But Skip eventually has a crisis of conscience that, surprisingly, has him doing the government's job for them, to smash the red conspiracy operating on these American streets. It's funny to think that none other than J. Edgar Hoover was critical of this film when it all but "waves the flag" at its audience in the end. (Not a criticism, just an observation.) One of the best statements to underscore this comes from Moe, who plainly observes that she doesn't know why she doesn't like communists--she just knows that she doesn't. As a result, patriotic American audiences can rest assured when "good triumphs over the evil empire" at the end of Pickup on South Street. It's an expected conclusion, but nevertheless justified here, since all of the commies are snakes, and thieves like Skip apparently still have some honor left within them, because they uphold traditional American values. (Is stealing one of those values? Let's not think too hard on that one.)
Recommended for: Fans of a hard-edged film noir with a liberal dose of anti-communist sentiment infused into the story. Pickup on South Street is a sharp and fast-paced crime film, a classic of the genre, and a great showcase for some really vivid performances.