Polonsky, Abraham

Oedipus Rex

Filmed by the famed British actor/director Sir Tyrone Guthrie, this elegant version of Sophocles' important play adds a brilliant stroke--the actors wear masks just as the Greeks did in the playwright's day. The story of Oedipus' gradual discovery of his primal crime--killing his father and marrying his mother--has influenced many of the great plays, films and books of all time. When this landmark film production of one of the great dramas ever appeared, it was hailed from all corners: "Spectacular and awesome...this film is a jewel of great price!" raved The New York Times.

Force of Evil

Based on an obscure crime novel titled Tucker's People, Abraham Polonsky's Force of Evil has attained classic status since its release in 1948, when film noir was thriving on the fringes of the Hollywood studio system, where the shadowy attributes of noir were allowed their fullest expression. Which is to say, this gritty drama is drenched in greed, cynicism, and corruption of the soul, as embodied by John Garfield in one of his most memorable roles. He's perfectly cast as Joe Morse, a lawyer whose connection to a ruthless racketeer has nearly destroyed his sense of morality. His participation in a rigged numbers racket could prove disastrous for his high-strung older brother (superbly played by Thomas Gomez), whose small-time policy bank stands to go broke when the rigged numbers pay off--a financial windfall for Joe's powerful boss at everyone else's expense.

Joe's corruption is tempered only by remnants of guilt and his redeeming attraction to Edna (Marie Windsor), his brother's secretary, whose common decency gnaws at Joe's rotten conscience. But before Joe can rise from his self-made hell, Force of Evil takes him to the darkest pit of tragic humanity--a downward spiral perfectly expressed through George Barnes's exquisitely stark cinematography. In style and substance, this is quintessential noir, its plot unfolding with uncompromising toughness and intelligence. More's the pity, then, that director Polonsky was later victimized by the Hollywood blacklist, curtailing a promising career for two decades until Polonsky directed Robert Redford in 1969's Tell Them Willie Boy Is Here. It seems only fitting, then, that Polonsky's remarkable debut is now recognized as one of the finest dramas of its kind. --Jeff Shannon

Romance of a Horsethief

Set in 1904 Poland, a town rises up against a Cossack captain who takes their horsrs.