The Sniper Reviews

Here’s a little hidden gem in the film noir genre. A nasty little thing that depicts the dire state of mental health services in 1952 (sadly, not much has changed) and a disturbing portrait of a serial killer seeking methods to stop yet incapable of doing so, The Sniper is nearly radical in its presentation. There are no soulful, romantic, yet deeply cynical heroes or sordid, narcotically sensual dames to be found here. Instead, director Edward Dmytryk goes for something deeper than good guys vs bad guys, even if the script can get a little too preachy at times.

The is stopped dead by producer Stanley Kramer’s portent for sermonizing, here exemplified by a police psychologist that unloads moral certitude and psychoanalysis at the drop of a hat. His monologues function in a similar manner, of guide posting the audience towards a character’s psychology, as the summary in Psycho, but without that film’s higher level of artistry and one-time info dump. Still, there’s plenty to enjoy and recommend in The Sniper.  

Meet Eddie (Arthur Franz), a man obsessed with brunette women he cannot possess and guns them down for daring to arouse any type of feeling within him. His character is explained away perhaps too much as some of his central mystery and terror gets diluted as time goes on, but there’s no mistaking the escalating suspense and tension of each scene where he enacts his horrible ritual. We know that certain women are walking innocents awaiting the slaughter, but when and how anticlimactic some of their deaths are only underscores the perverse power of the film.

Dmytryk utilizes the streets of San Francisco as its own character and detailing the emotional state of its twisted subject matter. Eddie cannot walk on stable ground as he is always at an odd angle. The on-location shooting adds a lived-in texture to the proceedings that undergirds everything with an atmosphere approaching reality. The Sniper may not be a perfect movie, but there’s a lot here to recommend it.