The Wages of Fear | Film review

Pop quiz, hotshot: You’re a day laborer living illegally in South America, trying to escape the sweltering heat and barely scraping by from day to day. A U.S. oil bigwig offers you a chance to make two grand, fast, by driving a truck 300 miles across rocky terrain on routes that might be described, with some generosity, as roads. In the back of your truck, there’s enough nitroglycerin to put a hole in the world. If the truck goes too fast, the cargo will shift, blowing you to smithereens. If the truck moves too slowly, it won’t glide over the bumps. The end result is the same.

The proto-Speed, Henri-Georges Clouzot’s French classic delivers a hit of suspense as pure as movies offer. Each move the characters make is literally a matter of life and death, and after a somewhat protracted first hour, the film works every imaginable permutation on this scenario. Along the way, it becomes a surprisingly moving buddy film, about two roustabouts (Yves Montand and Charles Vanel) forced to test each other’s mettle and loyalty to a degree that most couldn’t even imagine. The setup lends itself to any number of variations (as William Friedkin demonstrated in his nervy, Tangerine Dream–scored 1977 remake, Sorcerer). But for sheer power, it’s hard to beat the sight of an oil-stained Montand staring at a flaming derrick, blood forever on his hands.