Bait

The 1954 noir film Bait opens with a moment of levity that you don’t find anywhere else in the picture. Whether intentional or not, that is how it plays. It opens with Cedric Hardwicke, bathed in a spotlight and ascending an overly long staircase. At the top he is accosted by autograph hounds as if he were walking the red carpet at a movie premiere. He breaks the fourth wall and boasts about his popularity, then reveals that he is, in fact, Satan himself and wants to illustrate just why he enjoys this popularity. This prologue is never revisited. It doesn’t set the tone for the movie, nor does it feel like a legitimate part of it. This prologue could be added to the beginning of most of the films in the film noir category and it would feel as in place as it does here. While it stands out, I wouldn’t want it removed, though. It adds a delightfully tongue-in-cheek introduction to an otherwise somber, yet enjoyable, picture.

The actual story is clearly inspired by 1948’s The Treasure of the Sierra Madre. Marko (Hugo Haas) is a middle-aged man who is searching for his lost gold mine, the entrance of which has been missing for twenty years, at which time his partner died under mysterious circumstances. He teams up with the much younger Ray Brighton (John Agar) to share the work and expenses, promising a 50/50 split of the gold. In town Ray shows romantic interest for the local shopkeeper’s daughter Peggy (Cleo Moore), but she is hostile towards signs of affection after years of being treated like an outcast when she allegedly got pregnant out of wedlock. 

Ray eventually finds the entrance to the mine, of course, but now that riches are before them, Marko is regretting the 50/50 deal he made with him. He comes up with a plan that can give him a justifiable reason to kill his partner and take back his half. This plot involves winning over and marrying Peggy, then constantly putting temptation in front of Ray so that he may catch the two in an affair, giving him justification to kill him. This plan is absurd when you analyze it too closely but we are not here to watch men making rational choices. This is not a film in which logic is going to be up front. That tone works well for this picture. We get it emphasized again and again as Marko is laying his trap, illustrated by some voiceover work representing his thoughts. 

Where it stumbles a bit is with the character of Peggy. We feel the sadness of this character every single time she leaves the room to cry, hiding from everyone else the deep pain she is suffering from thanks to how everyone around her treats her. She has a hard façade that she puts on to protect herself and it comes across as a major chip on her shoulder. But there are times when she is conflicted, too. She marries Marko but she doesn’t really love him. Consequently she is tempted by Ray but haunted by the reputation she has and doesn’t want to live up to it. It’s a difficult line to walk and there are times where the movie doesn’t quite get it right but Cleo Moore is still giving it all she has.

This is a film that caught me off guard. I was expecting The Treasure of the Sierra Madre but it went in a completely different direction. There are complexities here that most films of this kind wouldn’t have bothered developing. The only real complaint is that the ending is a bit too abrupt and we don’t get a final scene with the devil, closing out the narrative. Without that, that opening scene feels even more out of place. This isn’t high art, but it is well made and has plenty of genuine emotion driving the narration. That alone elevates this film above many of its contemporaries. 1954 - 80 minutes