The Big Heat (Fritz Lang, 1953): For all the Christian paranoia and apocalyptic finger-wagging, movies just aren't as violent as they used to be. Maybe it has to do with the nation's ongoing slide back to Puritanism (and, let's face it, movies aren't as sexy as they used to be, either), or maybe it's that most of the truly depraved artists have directed their talents toward video games of late, rather than at the silver screen.

There are still a few dinosaurs out there: Mel Gibson can always be relied upon to rain vengeance upon his enemies in a most brutal and entertaining way (when given the opportunity for self-parody on "The Simpsons", he gleefully portrayed himself decapitating a pageant sash-wearing President of the United States with a flag stand). Paul Verhoeven has proven on several occasions to have an affinity for gratuitous gory violence in the name of a good laugh.

But even these guys--who I love and respect, don't get me wrong--do it with a wink. If you think there's too much violence on the big screen nowadays, it behooves you to rent Fritz Lang's The Big Heat, from 1953. Actually, if you think there isn't enough violence, it behooves you even more. (Either way, consider yourself behooved.)

The Big Heat starts off looking like an overly sentimental version of any 50's TV cop show, but don't be fooled. Dave Bannion (Glenn Ford) is a good cop with a beautiful blonde wife (Jocelyn Brando) and an adoring daughter. He's called to the scene of the suicide of a fellow cop. We know it's really a suicide--we saw the guy pull the trigger in the opening scene--but soon Bannion has a meeting with a floozy B-girl who says she knew the suicide in question, and that something sounds awful fishy.

Bannion doesn't think much of it until said B-girl turns up dead on a county road, unraped (or un-"attacked", as they say in the movie--I said it was violent, I didn't say it didn't imply sissy 50's-era euphemisms), but beaten and tortured, with cigarette burns all over her body.

Bannion heads straight for the home of Capone-style gangster Lagana (Alexander Scourby), who controls any unlawful activity that might be transpiring in the city (which city that might be is never mentioned). This is a bone-headed move on Bannion's part. Lagana's involved in the murder all right--and after Bannion kicks the shit out of Lagana's bodyguard, he finds himself much afoul of the intemperate Mob boss.

Lagana's right hand is Vince Stone (a young Lee Marvin), who has a too-friendly moll (Gloria Grahame), and a fetish for burning young ladies with cigarettes . . . coincidences, coincidences. Stone and his organization go after Bannion with extreme prejudice, at which point cast members start knocking each other off with an ardor that's almost Shakespearean.

Okay, apologies--after that whole big introduction I went into very little detail on the violence in The Big Heat. Well, shit--I don't want to ruin it for you. But, okay, here's a sampler: remember that scene in The Public Enemy where Jimmy Cagney shoves a grapefruit in his moll's face? Well this movie has the same scene, but here the grapefruit's been upgraded to hot coffee.

For all the rest of it, you're just going to have to rent the movie yourself. And after you see it, tell me honestly: you really think a major studio could get away with releasing a picture like this today? I say no way.

Now maybe if they made it a video game . . .