The Sniper is a slow yet fairly well-executed thriller about a woman-hating shooter. The film follows both the shooter, deeply disturbed delivery truck driver Arthur Franz (Eddie Miller), as he becomes increasingly serial killer-y, and the policemen leading the chase against him, Police Lt. Frank Kafka (Adolphe Menjou) and Police Sgt. Joe Ferris (Gerald Mohr). Regretful of his actions from the get-go, Franz leaves notes telling the police to catch him—he wants to get caught because he’s lost control. While the chase is fatal for some, Kafka and Ferris approach the issue with an empathetic lens; they understand Franz doesn’t want to kill and that past trauma might’ve ultimately led him here. With help from police psychiatrist Dr. James G. Kent (Richard Kiley), amongst others, the police pair must end Franz’s killing spree—it’s too late for any other choice.

For a ‘52 movie, The Sniper is incredibly forward-thinking in many ways. Instead of Franz getting pinned as the unjust maniac, he’s empathized with frequently. “You’ll find he has a record dating back to when he was a kid,” a defensive Dr. Kent tells investigators, “Believe me, [the sniper’s] been in the hands of the police before.… If his first act had led to treatment instead of jail, three women wouldn’t be lying dead today.” The investigators understand the man’s violent nature as unwanted and angle their chase nonviolently—the correct move, as Franz’s past is revealed to be responsible for his present. Upon being told by a rather sexist doctor (by modern standards) about the roles of men and women, Franz rebuts with, “My mother never taught me anything.” His mother, thus, was the birther of Franz’s eventual killing pattern, and no matter what she did, he’s now killing her over and over. Again, this speaks to a more significant idea of empathy: understanding and feeling what could’ve happened in Franz’s past gives a complete picture of who he is, even if it’s too late to stop him more peacefully. This theme of understanding is compelling, particularly for its time, as criminals were often treated as garbage and tossed aside—The Sniper bullseyes why that needs to change, humanizing perpetrators without justifying them. There are also more subtle nods towards the gendered and working social orders that are still prevalent in many ways.

Unfortunately, Sniper misses a bit too. It’s often way too slow, spending too much time detailing Franz’s system of control over himself and his method of finding and killing with little weight behind the actions. Sometimes, the police mull over his motivations somewhat repetitively, too, discussing the same details of Franz’s past over and over. But overall, The Sniper is an enticing and surprisingly progressive pic detailing perhaps some of the first open discussions on why criminals do what they do. For old film fans and neo-noir/thriller fans, the film mostly hits its target.

Screens in 35 mm Monday, 11/11, 7:00 pm @ The Brattle Theatre
Double feature w/Over-Exposed
Part of the ongoing repertory series: Columbia 100: Noirvember