The Third Man is one of those rare films where the backdrop to the story almost becomes a character in and of itself whose tone, look, and disposition plays off the characters and their hopes and dreams. Vienna is depicted as a lifeless, dismal city where crime and the loss of moral rectitude has become all pervasive in a city where only a dark sense of humor can overcome the myriad of moral implications that arise just by living in the city. One of the most famous tours in Austria is the Sound of Music tour in Salzburg and it could be said that The Third Man tour in Vienna would be its direct antithesis. Both tours deal with American films set in Austria but while one describes the optimism and strength of a family set against the larger bulwark of encroaching fascism, the other is about the individual becoming compressed by a devolving dog-eat-dog society where tiny bits of paper can decide will your future. I didn’t go on either of these tours on this trip but I feel the tonal differences both films present would do much to show two separate ways the state of Austria has been depicted on film. Surprisingly, the Viennese have embraced The Third Man, warts and all, as an important historical piece showing what life was like after the war in a city split between the four Allied powers. I first saw The Third Man when I was in about ninth grade and I became an immediate admirer of the film’s dark tone. I especially thought Orson Welles does an excellent job as the slimy Harry Lime who is able to hide his inner evil through his chummy disposition and talent for oratory. But after visiting Vienna and seeing the film a second time you can truly appreciate just what was filmed in this city all the way back in 1949. It is a credit to the filmmakers that they were able to capture on location this fully realized world where daily life has been completely turned upside down to the whims of foreign governments and black market peddlers. Having an interest in film I decided to go out on my own and visit what I could of Vienna’s many Third Man. Besides seeing the movie for a second time, I also visited the Third Man Museum, a treasure trove of documents, accounts, and artifacts both from the film and from the history of post-war Vienna. The museum also gave some fascinating details about how the screenplay was written and what actual real life events and people corresponded with the post-war world the film came to symbolize. Upon the entrance to the museum you visit a number of rooms displaying the success of The Third Man, ranging from pulp fiction books as well as a number of famous bands and individual musicians trying to create their own version of the famous zither score. In fact, the museum actually holds the original zither that was used to create the mood of the film and is considered the museum’s most precious artifact. Besides these pop culture displays there was also a showcase of the critical accolades the film received upon its opening and then afterwards. The BFI or British Film Institute named The Third Man the greatest British film ever made (it gets British credit because of its screenwriter, the great Graham Greene, whose credentials also include several novels that were later turned into films as well). Some of the other rooms had exhibits more pertinent to our study of Austrian history. One room contained a history of pre-war Austria during the civil war that ensued the election and later assassination of Chancellor Dollfuss. The other room shows the post-war history of Vienna and the different political frictions that began to arise among the major powers inside the city. The amount of documents and objects from the time period are great to look at. They show everything from letters to uniforms, newspapers to identification cards, food slips and photographs. One of the most intriguing and ironic parts of post-war Vienna was the destroyed economy that forced many to use the same products from the Nazi period. The most expressive example of this dark irony was stamps. Since the government could not make any new ones, the Viennese had to use the old Hitler stamps that consequently had his ugly mug sticking out of every letter. Many of these stamps then had a giant X slashed through with the words Osterreich written on top. The mere fact that the people of Vienna had to resort to these stamps shows the amazing decrepitude of the economy. Other objects in the room explained how soldiers from the allied powers worked together to obtain some sense of common cause even while the higher ups were contemplating how to spy on one another. What these rooms presented were the larger ideas that came out of The Third Man: the imagery of Vienna and the reality of bureaucracy all rolled together into a surreal look at the comprehensive incompetence of the world powers. One of the last and most devastating things to see in the exhibit were the pictures of all the major sights I had grown to know and live during my time here in Vienna. The post-war pictures of the Kunsthistoriches Museum, the Belvedere, and the Schonnbrunn, with gaping holes and total destruction all around them were depressing to view. So much history had gone on behind those walls and in an instant they were totally destroyed with they had known and seen. Vienna has reconstructed much of these old sights but when you actually see how devastated they looked after the war, you get the feeling that the cultural of the Austrian people was completely destroyed and with it their moral compass. This is a great leap in assumption but based on the characters we meet in the film and the images of the great historical centers of culture in Vienna lying in ruins you get the sense that any hope of rebuilding, both architecturally and emotionally, were cut down by the needs of those cynical souls trying to make a living in the diaspora of what many call Europe Year Zero. One of the interesting side notes about creating the film was that Grahan Greene focused the character of Harry Lime on one of his close confidants and friends in British intelligence. The man was named Kim Philby and at the beginning of the Cold War it became apparent that Philby had become a spy for the Russians. Greene grew aware of this before his superiors did and he had a crisis of conscience as to how to go about this situation. Should he betray his friend and serve his country or serve his country and betray his friend. In the end, Greene retired from the service and thus attempted to rid himself of the moral debacle and turn to writing. The relationship between Joseph Cotten’s protagonist and Orson Welles’s Lime holds many similarities with this real life case of moral debate. Both are set within the confines of the Cold War and both deal with a man coming to terms with the fact that his best friend has turned into something he never thought possible. Neither Lime nor Philby are presented as evil, in fact, both are seen as charming and sociable but lost in their own personal aspirations for wealth and power in the material world. I found these historical comparisons wonderful because they make so much sense when you actually study the real events and then contrast them with the characters in the film. The other major site of the film that we visited as a class was the ferris wheel in the Prater where Orson Welles gives arguably the most famous speech in history of cinema. His brutal assessment of the world and how progress can only come with violence and death is one of the great speeches of the movies and one Welles actually improvised on the set. He discusses how Italy, a country racked by war throughout the renaissance brought some of the greatest artistic and cultural treasures to light in human history while Switzerland, a nation of peace and prosperity with “brotherly-love for nearly five hundred years” brought nothing more to human development than the cuckoo clock. Actually seeing the real ferris wheel is quite a sight. It was renovated since the film but it is still interesting to know that this was the site of Welles famous speech. When you enter the visitors center adjacent to the ferris wheel you see a number of models showing what happened on the site throughout Vienna’s history. The post war diorama is especially interesting since it shows the ferris wheel standing alone with the rest of the city in flames and rubble in the background. These images convey what was actually filmed in 1949 and give the visitor both a sense of the decimation as well as irony of paying money back then just to get a bird’s eye view of the destruction. When going up the ferris wheel today you have a much more joyful experience. It shows you a good deal of Vienna as well as some of the more residential areas that you don’t see when you’re in the city. The ferris wheel is also right by the Prater theme park which is a colorful little place with lots of roller coasters and log flumes for young children to enjoy. The theme park reminded me more of an American boardwalk with its low budget, yet nonetheless, wholesome rides that the entire family can enjoy. There isn’t that stamp of commercial control over the area like in Disneyland or Six Flags and this gives the Prater nice retro feel that is absent from much of America today. The whole environment had an ironic optimism about itself. There were children scampering everywhere and all the rides had lights and sound effects blaring in every direction, quite the opposite of a dilapidated landscape where Harry Lime asks his friend whether he would feel any remorse if one little dot in a sea of thousands simply disappeared. Actually getting to go on the ferris wheel was something and its beautiful view definitely belied the dark tone of Welles’s exchange with Cotten on their way up to the top of the amusement attraction. I know it was this scene, from the moment we finally meet Lime to the end of the ride when he gives his great speech that made me love The Third Man and it was great to visit the actual sites of the film in a city that has been entirely reconstructed out of its past. The film is a hallmark of so many things, from British cinema to the genre of noir, and the importance the film holds today as a primary source of what life was like in post-war Vienna makes it all the more historically enriching. It’s a film that goes right into the heart of Europe’s problems and America’s naïve understanding of it. Why else would Cotton’s character write pulp fiction? There are so many avenues of study that can be made from the film, both historically and cinematically that it seems one could never exhaust all the possible discussions the film presents. It’s fascinating to realize that we can find so much from a film set in a world of rubble.