The Man with the Golden Arm, Otto Preminger's controversial, panoramic crime drama, plays itself out among the mental descriptions of its living and architectural occupants, in rhythmic, lashing arrangement. Opening the film, a closeup from within a bar of Frankie looking in through the window, already tells us to the prominence that the protagonist's subjective experience will grasp. Pulled in the direction of increasingly slighter spaces, the film shuts itself off, as the local gangster's long-drawn-out poker game shuts itself from the daylight, bolts itself in, as Sinatra's Frankie Machine has himself locked in a room in the celebrated scene of his harrowing struggle to overcome his habit. In delving into the shapes and faces of its jazzy urban haven, the visual traffic in The Man with the Golden Arm characterizes skewed psychological circumstances, forming an overpowering environment, as maintained by the recurring tracking shots into closeups of Frankie's eyes.
The grace of this fiery drama, striking as early as the exciting opening crane shot, displays the command over the perceptible world that studio production allows. The wonderfully dilapidated urban sets define an independent place with no beginnings or ends, an indeterminate state, the sort that in reality hardly last as long as this skid row seems to before being gentrified or leveled. The flair of certain performances, particularly Robert Strauss's as the wonderfully named underworld gambling boss Schwiefka and Arnold Stang as Frankie's trusty four-eyed lapdog, becomes this fiery surreal feature pleasingly. The premise of drug addiction, Sinatra's powerhouse performance, Elmer Bernstein's infectious, forceful jazz score and Saul Bass's famous, influential and controversial opening sequence centering on the animated paper cut-out of a heroin addict's arm ensured that, in its era, The Man with the Golden Arm presses forward upon the cause for realism in the still reticent Hollywood. It is impressionistic and subjective, as I say, but its intent, its force and its spirit are much closer to home.
What absorbs me the most in this film is its aspect as a gangster film. It has the illegal card games, short cons, the fights, the guns, the double-crosses, characters on the lam, a femme fatale, a stunningly sexy gun moll, the shady nightclubs and urban landscape, but it does more than exploit this environment for entertainment. Really, it is the perfect environment, and genre, in which to tell this story, a crime-ridden urban borough where it's all too comfortable to escape through a bottle or two, or three, or four, or drugs, a transient dose that really just functions to keep one in obscurity from any enlightenment and all the clear scenarios the world could bid.