Criss Cross

Robert Siodmak directed several films that many consider near-perfect examples of the noir style, most certainly including Criss Cross, a richly constructed tale of an armored car holdup and the dysfunctional love triangle that led to it. Using an inventive flashback structure and Siodmak’s signature compositional poetry, the film stars Burt Lancaster as Steve Thompson, a sad sap whose strength of physique is no match for his weakness for women, or at least one woman in particular, his web-spinning ex-wife Anna (Yvonne De Carlo). After a couple years drifting following their divorce, Steve finds himself back in town and in Anna’s lap, even after he discovers she’s married scummy gangster Slim Dundee (Dan Duryea). Claiming she only married Slim out of confusion, Anna continues to lead Steve on until he teams up with Slim for an armored car robbery. Things only go south from there. Donning a memorably chic, suede loafer jacket in the opening sequence, Lancaster is excellent as the naive, returning drifter whose fate is in Anna’s hands (“I never wanted the money, I just wanted you”), despite the best efforts of his mother (Edna Holland) and hometown best friend, police detective Pete Ramirez (Stephen McNally), to keep them separated. Siodmak’s brilliance is visible in nearly every shot, notably mesmerizing scenes including the holdup that begins with a God-like aerial view and ends in a smoke-bombed, heaven-like cloud, Steve’s view of Anna on the dance floor (her partner is an uncredited Tony Curtis), the mysterious man outside Steve’s hospital room door, and, of course, the deadly climax in the waterside cabin. A beautifully woven amalgam of noir’s greatest features, Criss Cross sits close to the top of the noir canon.