classicsoncall This had all the look and feel of film noir as I viewed it but I wasn't certain if it would pass muster as the real deal. It has no femme fatale front and center as most movies of the genre do, but thinking about it, that may be because Eddie Miller (Arthur Franz) killed them all. Marie Windsor came the closest as his victim number one, but she wasn't around long enough to make an impact on the entire story. However the picture does have it's requisite share of pessimism, fatalism and menace, so on that score it delivers in true noir fashion.I found the cinematographer's work to be quite compelling. The starkly oblique camera angles, be they city streets (amplified by the topography of San Francisco), steep stairways or elevated rooftops, all seem to draw one's attention to and magnify the tormented psyche of the central character. His written plea (see my summary line), dropped anonymously in a city mailbox, reads as a massive cry for help that remains unanswered, except in the verbal exhortation of the police psychiatrist (Richard Kiley) stating his case before a review board. Listening to that argument today however, I don't think it would meet with much approval, in as much as his call for jailing first time sex offenders seems to be given short shrift by liberal judges in the present day.Actor Franz appeared to have the perfect demeanor for his twisted character, continuously bewildered by the futility of his actions yet powerless to stop his murderous rampage. The film's treatment of his second victim was cleverly handled; all the while we track the woman under Miller's watchful eye, but never see him getting ready to carry out the crime. Then all of a sudden a bullet shatters the woman's apartment window and she falls victim to his single rifle blast. The viewer knows it's coming, but the anticipation is both muted and tension filled, a rare emotion that the film maker expertly achieved.Going in without knowing anything about the picture, one might be led to believe it's a story about an assassin, and in some respects, the analogy holds. Miller was an assassin of sorts, but his victims were chosen at random for the mere fact of being women. Helpless to overcome his terrifying predilection to murder, Miller is ultimately apprehended with a tear in his eye, not so much for his victims, but for his own remorse at being a monster.

bkoganbing Almost twenty years before San Francisco was terrorized by another sniper in Dirty Harry, this well received B film from Columbia Pictures painted a far less glamorous picture of a mentally ill individual taking his problems out on the world. Arthur Franz got his career role in The Sniper and a pity it didn't elevate him to stardom although he certainly had a distinguished and long career.Franz paints us a portrayal of a socially challenged man who just can't get anywhere with the opposite sex. He conceives a pathological hatred of all women and an innocent encounter with a nightclub performer played by Marie Windsor finally triggers him off. After that Franz is on a rampage, killing women almost at random from various San Francisco rooftops. The film was shot on location in San Francisco and The Sniper bears a whole lot of resemblance to The Naked City where Jules Dassin made New York's mean streets as much a star as the human players. Director Edward Dmytryk does the same for San Francisco.And the cops here are much like Barry Fitzgerald and Don Taylor from that film. Watching the film I wonder how much persuasion it took to get Adolphe Menjou to shave off that famous wax mustache of his, a remnant of fashion from a bygone era. It certainly wouldn't have gone with his role as a homicide cop. But the voice is distinctive and Menjou put it over. Acting as his younger sidekick is Gerald Mohr.What's ironic in The Sniper is that the whole thing is a desperate cry for help to a world to busy to care. The minor key ending of The Sniper brings that point home quite vividly.The Sniper is a noir classic, not as glamorous as Dirty Harry Callahan's pursuit of another twisted individual through San Francisco, but a whole lot more realistic.

Jay Harris Stanley Kramer was in the beginning of his career, when his company made this film for Columbia. In 1952 Columbia was not yet, nor near the powerhouse movie studio they eventually became.The writers Edwin & Edna Anhalt were at the beginning of their noted writing careers.Edward Dymtryk was resuming his career after being involved with the Hollywood 10, blacklist & the HUAC.The cast includes many known performers of the era. Only a few stand out. The acting is just routine.The plot today is contrived, with scenes telegraphed in advance,cued by camera angles or music.It could have been shocking then. I doubt it though.It was filmed in San Francisco. To be blunt I was very disappointed since I have recently read some good reviews of this.I cannot remember what I thought of this film in 1952. I more than likely saw it as part of a double bill. I doubt it was the main feature.Ratings: **1/2 (out of 4) 68 points (out of 100) IMDb 6 (out of 10)

dougdoepke The trouble is Eddie Miller (Arthur Franz) just can't keep himself from shooting women. Plus, he does it from a distance with a sniper's rifle which makes him doubly hard to catch. Today, the sex angle would likely be played up, turning him into a serial rapist. Here, however, his sick motivation looks more like pure rage than sexual desire. Everywhere he goes, he's either humiliated or rejected by women. He's attractive enough (probably too much so to be credible), but he has a personality problem. In short, Eddie simply can't accept himself as a deliveryman; instead, he builds himself up with obvious exaggerations to impress strangers, such that when pretty barfly May Nelson approaches, he ends up offending her with wild stories. Like Psycho's Norman Bates, the problem probably goes all the way back to Mom.It's certainly a very watchable movie. The San Francisco locations are used to great effect-- the cops surveilling downtown rooftops from on high sets up a marvelous panoramic look at the city. Then too, the smokestack scene with its human fly amounts to pure cinematic magic. A problem in the film lies with too much obviousness where a lighter hand is needed. Thus, when Eddie goes on a little downtown stroll, he doesn't encounter just one woman-caused frustration, but a whole heavy-handed series of them. Too bad, because we get the idea early on that petty annoyances involving women amount to major injuries in Eddie's twisted world. Then there's the let's- hit-you-over-the-head-in-case-you-don't-get-it last scene; it's about as necessary as strip-poker at a nudist colony. Still and all, the movie's heart is in the right place, even if it appears made at times for the slow-witted.One big benefit for 50's-era fans is cult favorite Marie Windsor in a low-cut evening gown, purring her seductive lines to Eddie even as she exploits him to the hilt. What a great cameo from a really unusual actress.Too bad their scene together comes so early because it's a pip and a movie high point. Speaking of film eras, compare the themes and locations of this movie (1951) with the cinematically similar, Vietnam-era Dirty Harry (1971). Tellingly, the hopeful reformism that Kramer&Co. plead for in Sniper has been replaced by a kind of hopeless vigilantism where Harry (Clint Eastwood) ends up rejecting city hall, killing the sniper, and throwing away his policeman's badge. Mark it down to what you will, but the change-over is pretty stark and startling. Anyway, this little B-film created quite a stir at the time and remains an interesting piece of movie history, well worth thinking about