TOUCH OF EVIL lit its tortuous fuse in a 1956 novel by Whit Masterson titled “Badge Of Evil”. The spark glowed brighter when Universal’s busy producer Albert Zugsmith (dubbed “King of the B’s”) hired Orson Welles to direct, rewrite a script done by Paul Monash and act in the project, co-starring with box-office bait Charlton Heston and Janet Leigh. The flaming objet d’art Welles delivered was doused when the displeased studio chopped his version and inserted new footage from in-house director Harry Keller. On release, the man-mishandled ember was unceremoniously shoveled onto a double-bill. Years on, restored prints appeared in the mid 70s and late 90s, reigniting Welles combustible construct into an ongoing bonfire of adulation.  Pass on the truncated 96-minute cut from 1958 and dive into the 109-minute 70s edition or the 1998 tweak that runs 111. Sordid, Seedy & Sleaze never looked so good. *

At a US-Mexico border crossing, car-bomb fatalities bring lawmen from both countries into the case and onto each other’s. Veteran US police captain ‘Hank Quinlan’ (Welles) is quick to fix blame on someone who practically yells “patsy”, but Mexican prosecutor ‘Miguel Vargas’ (Heston) has ample reason to disagree, believing a local crime boss is behind the bombing. While arrogant Quinlan and straitlaced Vargas fence mano a mano, ‘Susan’ (Janet Leigh), Vargas’ new American bride, is threatened by thugs from ‘Uncle Joe Grandi’ (Akim Tamiroff), head of the criminal brood. Who’s guilty, and of what?

Who’s responsible for Touch of Evil being so Good at portraying Bad? Mixing nightmarish danger, oozing moral decay, laced with bizarre humor, the essentially pulpy material is compelling on its own. The dizzying darkness is elevated to class-act status by Welles audacious direction, spirited performances from an offbeat, well-picked cast and Russell Metty’s splendid cinematography. Metty crafts mood-evoking wonders in black & white, the expressionist lighting and baroque, nerve-jolting angles ensuring Welles minds-eye vision pulls a viewer directly into the scenes, half-voyeur, half-participant. Envelopment creep begins with the renowned 3½-minute tracking shot/plot-setup that takes place over the opening credits, a fluid marvel of technical coordination and personnel choreography. Welcome to ‘Los Robles’ (actually a run-down section of Venice, California); good luck getting out.

Heston-drubbers pretend they’re clever knocking him (“Charlton Heston as a Mexican?”), managing to reveal themselves ignorant that there’s more than one ‘look’ to that country’s populace; his restrained performance doesn’t dishonor actor or character. His role (and Leigh’s provocative coyness) are lost isles of sanity in a swirl of grotesques dominated by Welles casually callous manipulator. Along with facial makeup, he loaded sixty pounds of rubber-blubber to his already hefty 270 to make insinuating Quinlan the King Crab in a stewpot of vice. Choice morsels are relished by veterans Tamiroff and Joseph Calleia while vivid cameos go to Marlene Dietrich (knowingly suggestive), Dennis Weaver (in manic quirk mode) and Mercedes McCambridge (butched up & scary).

Welles also gave old friend Joseph Cotten a few scenes, and producer Zugsmith managed to get his friend Zsa Zsa Gabor a bit as a strip club manager. A sharp impression is made by dangerous-looking newcomer Valentin de Vargas, 22, shortly to join Eli Wallach’s bandit bunch opposing The Magnificent Seven.

With Ray Collins, Mort Mills, Victor Millan, Joanna Moore, Harry Shannon, Joi Lansing, John Dierkes (who’d debuted in Welles 1948 Macbeth). Try and spot Keenan Wynn (in the opener) and Eva Gabor (as one her sister’s strippers).

* Welles hadn’t directed a Hollywood picture in a decade. He managed to bring this in 7% under a $895,000 budget. Fighting over editing left Orson on the outs (a career-long condition);  Universal mucky-mucks thought so little of the results they stuck it onto a double-bill with the cheesy melodrama The Female Animal, directed by the same Harry Keller who tinkered Evil’s touch-ups. Cogerson lists its boxoffice as 67th in ’58, with $3,200,000: does this include revenue from re-releases?  Other sites post $2,259,000 and $2,285,000. A recommended overview can be enjoyed in Frank Brady’s superb bio “Citizen Welles”.

In ’58 His Orsonage aced colorful roles in The Long Hot Summer and The Roots Of Heaven. Heston scored The Big Country and The Buccaneer. Leigh added sauce to The Vikings and The Perfect Furlough. Dietrich nabbed a choice part in Witness For The Prosecution.