Why is Three Strangers, a 1946 movie, set in the London in 1938? There's nothing in the story that links it to a particular time. But in 1938, Britain had yet to be drawn into the long and arduous war to come, when gallantry and self-sacrifice were the orders of the day. The characters in Three Strangers are mirthlessly ungallant and single-mindedly self-absorbed; relegating them to the fool's paradise of the year before all hell broke loose was a diplomatic courtesy.
But a movie centered around three unappealing characters presents another, more immediate problem: The problems they bring on themselves do not compel much sympathy. The movie opens before midnight as the Chinese New Year is about to strike. Geraldine Fitzgerald has been trolling the streets to bring two strangers (Sydney Greenstreet and Peter Lorre) back to her flat. Her quest is not sexual but ritualistic: The Chinese goddess of fortune, a statue of whom graces her drawing room, requires the gathering of three persons unknown to one another before she will grant her annual wish. When all the conditions and codicils have been duly haggled over, the three agree to wish for a winning sweepstakes ticket.
Then they part ways to return to their separate hells. The grasping, manipulative Fitzgerald has driven away her husband, who returns from Canada with a young woman he wants to marry. The avaricious Greenstreet, a solicitor, has been plundering his clients' accounts to speculate in stocks. The alcoholic Lorre (by default the least offensive of the trio) finds himself on death row for a policeman's murder committed by one of his low-life friends who framed him. Their individual stories unfold and, in ironies reminiscent of de Maupassant or O. Henry, ultimately reconverge. As expected, Jean Negulesco directs handsomely but can't overcome the emotional vacuum in John Huston's script: The fates of these three strangers leave us cold.
But a movie centered around three unappealing characters presents another, more immediate problem: The problems they bring on themselves do not compel much sympathy. The movie opens before midnight as the Chinese New Year is about to strike. Geraldine Fitzgerald has been trolling the streets to bring two strangers (Sydney Greenstreet and Peter Lorre) back to her flat. Her quest is not sexual but ritualistic: The Chinese goddess of fortune, a statue of whom graces her drawing room, requires the gathering of three persons unknown to one another before she will grant her annual wish. When all the conditions and codicils have been duly haggled over, the three agree to wish for a winning sweepstakes ticket.
Then they part ways to return to their separate hells. The grasping, manipulative Fitzgerald has driven away her husband, who returns from Canada with a young woman he wants to marry. The avaricious Greenstreet, a solicitor, has been plundering his clients' accounts to speculate in stocks. The alcoholic Lorre (by default the least offensive of the trio) finds himself on death row for a policeman's murder committed by one of his low-life friends who framed him. Their individual stories unfold and, in ironies reminiscent of de Maupassant or O. Henry, ultimately reconverge. As expected, Jean Negulesco directs handsomely but can't overcome the emotional vacuum in John Huston's script: The fates of these three strangers leave us cold.