Narrow Margin

The Narrow Margin

Director:

Richard Fleischer

Year:

1952

Country:

United States

Also:

Marie Windsor

Queen Windsor rules

By Michael J Roberts

"At RKO, every time I was ready to be given an important film, the person who promised it to me would leave the studio and then a new one would come in and say: oh yes I've heard about you, you're very talented and I know you wanna do a big picture and you'll get it within the next 6 months. In 6 months he'd be gone, now this went on for 7 years." ~ Richard Fleischer 

Richard Fleisher had worked his way up to feature director at RKO, and in 1950 produced one of his finest works for the studio in a low budget B picture, The Narrow Margin, only to have Howard Hughes purchase RKO and put everything on hold while the studio became mired in indecision under mad mogul. Hughes apparently loved the film and told Fleisher he’d like to spend big and remake it with bigger stars (Robert Mitchum and Jane Russell) as an A picture. Hughes then prevaricated and played with his new toy set while Fleisher bit his tongue did him some favours in patching up a John Farrow film Hughes was unhappy with, before The Narrow Margin was finally released 2 years later in the original form with the original cast.

Gangster’s widow Frankie Neall (Marie Windsor) has agreed to give evidence against the mob and needs an escort from Chicago to Los Angeles, which arrives in the form of gruff cop Detective Walter Brown (Charles McGraw). Brown watches his partner get killed in exiting Frankie’s apartment and manages to hide her in the relative safety of a train compartment as they try to avoid further mob attempts on her life. The mob try to make a deal with Brown, to sell out the widow as they don’t know what she looks like, but he resists. His attempt to protect the widow on the train is complicated by the friendship he strikes up with a young mother, Ann Sinclair (Jacqueline White) as he soon realises she is mistaken by the mob hitmen to be their target.

Running on a tight schedule Fleisher made the most of the claustrophobic sets and closed spaces with his cinematographer George E. Diskant, a Noir specialist and a favourite of Nicholas Ray. The corridors and compartments give a cramped, contained environment even more threat as danger might appear at any second, or even comic relief in the form of Ann’s young son. The constantly moving train is also a source of unease, and Fleisher cleverly opens up the action in having a car track the train to bring in the villain who shot Brown’s partner, who boards the train to finish off his hit on Mrs. Neall. The pace cracks along and plot twists abound, all held in tight focus by a disciplined director and a solid and capable cast. 

Charles McGraw was ideal as the gruff cop who lost his partner early in the piece and has a chip on his shoulder as a result, but he could also soften convincingly as required with his interactions with the ‘good girl’ Ann. Journeyman actor McGraw, a thick set, gravel voiced type, ideal for heavies, cops, soldiers or cowboys had beavered away at support roles for a decade and had recently started to get solid supports of leads in low priority programmers by the time he was cast here. Jacqueline White is ideal as the palette cleanser for Windsor’s bad girl who leaves such a bad taste in Brown’s mouth – she was a pretty, girl-next-door type when she signed to MGM as a 17 yr. old in 1940. Stardom never arrived but she’d worked with fine directors like Robert Wise and John Sturges, as well as for Fleisher in his 1947 drama Banjo. She was most notable in Edward Dymytrk’s well received take on anti-semitism, Crossfire, the same year.

For all that, the film belongs firmly to Marie Windsor. The screen presence and lustre she provides dominates proceedings, even in scenes she’s not in as she’s so firmly established as a central figure. The statuesque and striking beauty draws attention and her silken voice and droll delivery reveals an actor in total command of their instrument, fitting for one who had trained with Stella Adler and Maria Ouspenskaya. After years of uncredited bit parts she’d broken through via John Garfield casting her in Force of Evil and seemed forever on the cusp of A-list stardom. The Narrow Margin might have been her ticket to ride but for RKO being sold to Howard Hughes who decided to put it on a shelf for two years while he brooded on what to do with his new acquisition. Marie Windsor did what she always did – worked constantly and always put in her best performance in material that didn’t rise to the level of what she had to offer, eventually making a good living in TV work. Amongst the wreckage of what Hughes left in his Hollywood wake, Marie Windsor’s career might be one of the saddest pieces.

Richard Fleischer too had to play the waiting game. He was born into the industry, the son of Max Fleischer who founded the animation studio (with his brother) that created Betty Boop, amongst others. Years before Hughes arrived, RKO had loaned him to Stanley Kramer Productions where he promptly bought back a Carl Foreman script, The Clay Pigeon, and shot it for RKO. He made efficient and well received programmers before The Narrow Margin and the fact that he shot the taught little crime thriller in a mere 13 days impressed Hughes greatly and Hughes offered him some fix it jobs on other films while he dangled the release of The Narrow Margin. Hughes dabbled for 4 years with RKO without ever once setting foot on the lot before he grew tired of his toy train set, but the damage was done. RKO always punched above its weight in terms of the quality of its productions and sheer bang-for-buck, but it never recovered from the Hughes hubris.

Richard Fleisher survived Hughes and went on to an interesting and versatile career directing all types of films until 1987, including such notable entries as 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea, Doctor Dolittle, 10 Rillington Place and The New Centurions. The Narrow Margin was an example of what he could do with a little budget, a solid script and professional technicians and actors in creating an authentic milieu on screen in a no fuss and engaging way. As a run of the mill B-picture lost in the midst of the Hollywood conveyor belt, The Narrow Margin didn’t stand out at the time, but its reputation has justifiably increased with the passage of time and now its rightly considered a seminal entry in Film Noir.

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