The Man on the Eiffel Tower (1949)

So much average

Beautiful, moving film.

It’s fine. It's literally the definition of a fine movie. You’ve seen it before, you know every beat and outcome before the characters even do. Only question is how much escapism you’re looking for.

By the time the dramatic fireworks start popping off, each one feels earned.

When poor Robert Hutton gets pressure from his mistress Jean Wallace, he's desperate to gain a fortune. He has a rich aunt, and through a chance meeting in a café, he hires psychopathic criminal Franchot Tone to murder her in hopes of getting an early inheritance. Burgess Meredith gets framed for the crime, but with detective Charles Laughton on the case, will he find the real killer in time?The Man on the Eiffel Tower isn't a very suspenseful movie, because we know who the killer is right away. During the murder scene, we see the murderer from the neck down, but since Franchot Tone has a very distinctive voice, it's not a mystery! I'm not spoiling anything, by the way; his identity gets revealed very shortly afterwards. I have a soft spot in my heart for Franchot, so in his scenes when he's supposed to be a madman, I kept hoping he'd snap out of it and return to his delightful persona I was used to from his Jean Harlow movies. The only real reason to watch this movie is if you are a total Francophile and adore watching movies that were filmed in Paris. The city is highlighted and shown at every angle, even-as you might guess-from the top of the Eiffel Tower.

The Man on the Eiffel Tower (Burgess Meredith, 1949) is really, really odd, perhaps due to the troubled production, with Irving Allen replaced by Meredith and future Night of the Hunter director Charles Laughton taking charge of the scenes featuring his co-star. The story is fragmented and the direction wildly erratic - sometimes vividly expressionistic, at other times consisting of the cast simply standing in a big line - but at least we've got a restored copy now. Previous touring prints had degraded to such an extent that they had turned sepia, except for Meredith's bright red hair. The plot sees manic depressive Franchot Tone - yes, apparently bipolar disorder is the same as megalomania if you've got it not only in your heart, but "also up here" (I have no idea) - repeatedly taunting useless detective Inspector Maigret (Laughton) en route to a climactic confrontation up Le Tour Eiffel. Laughton is lacklustre, Meredith peculiar and Tone looks about 108 - his grey hair dyed chestnut - though he's quite effective in a one-note role. English leading lady Patricia Roc is also among the bafflingly illustrious cast, but she's given virtually nothing to do. The real star is the Ansco Color photography (unsung MGM masterpieces Kiss Me Kate and Brigadoon were two one of the few other films shot in the short-lived process) shot at sites around Paris, from the banks of the Seine to Les Deux Magots (an old haunt of Hemingway's) and the eponymous monument.

Even dedicated Laughtonians seem to dismiss this interesting performance of the master—and why? Why?Their premise is grievously wrong. What CL does here is a Simon impression,a Simon pastiche—and a proper, adequate and of a delicious finesse lecture of the genuine Maigret …--one would consider it needless to say—yet Maigret is not Holmes, Poirot, etc.. Laughton sized this distinctiveness—and worked it in a masterly Simonian key ….Laughton's entrance in THE MAN ON THE EIFFEL … is saluted with a laugh. This is the genuine Maigret—as done by Simon ….This adaptation is primarily a Laughton recital. His performance has a genuineness not to be found elsewhere. The dismissal of his role here by so many Laughtonians is puzzling. Laughton was born to play Maigret. The Simon impression/pastiche seems rather conscientious. The droll note is deliberate. One buff consider MAIGRET Laughton's worst performance ever; on the contrary, it's one of his most perspicacious and subtly endearing, even riveting. Who loves Simenon's novels in their subtle substance ,can not but hail this marvelously tasty film. This is vintage adaptation; one must be naive, or grossly incompetent to think or, moreover, feel otherwise. Some speak as if they thought Laughton ought to play a Holmes or a Poirot here. The real, literary Maigret is as Laughton plays it. Ignorance, mere literary ignorance, dear pals, is playing a nasty trick on her victims, leading them to believe they know how should Maigret look like—well, to those folks I utter: Maigret is no Holmes, no Poirot, do not expect this kind of stuff …. Very, very good film. It is primarily a Laughton recital, and so comes highly recommended.Three more things:--there comes a day when the _cinephile makes one of his defining experiences:when he understands that Laughton, Simon, Bogart, even Gable are better than Newman, Brando, Hopkins –this experience may take various forms, yet the essential content is as enunciated;--secondly, THE MAN ON … is a superior B movie, charming and lurid as a B movie; maybe the directing is somewhat clumsy, but the conception is definitely fine;--it is deliberately low—brow, a fine, delectable amusement, a frank B movie (as such, different from the notion of Delannoy's classicist adaptations of the Simenon mysteries …).The touches of camp of this amiable, lurid tale, colorful and highly amusing, are deliberate.The critics of this charming, atmospheric crime thriller assume that Maigret is Holmes or Sam Spade or whoever. Well, he is not. He is someone else. Here we have Maigret as Simon would have played him.This funny adaptation is a small B movie both more comical and more overtly dramatic than its literary source.

This is a really obtuse mystery film. I worried through the whole thing that Charles Laughton was going to pass out. The color is terrible (although I found it in a collection and didn't expect much). The story involves a plot to murder a woman, a frame-up, and a whole cast of characters who become involved in it. The murderer is pretty much known but Maigret (Laughton) must follow the whims of Franchot Tone as he plays with his mind. Laughton is patient and plays the game. Burgess Meredith, with blazing red hair, is the first living person victimized by the murderer and spends most of his time running away. His myopia is recreated in a "Twilight Zone" episode later, "Time Enough at Last." Where does everyone fit in? Are there really any good guys? I don't know. I do know it seemed like an eternity before the final dramatic scene (which is also a bit disappointing). It's interesting that the city of Paris is listed in the credits as one of the cast. Unfortunately, the color is so bad that this cast member really gets the short end of the stick.