Wages of Fear

Amidst the squalor of the South American town Las Piedras, four desperate men are elected to deliver two trucks of nitroglycerine across an arid and mountainous terrain to an oil rig 300 miles away. The pay is alluring, the task impossible, and the journey to deploy the unstable liquid journey unimaginable.

The Homeric excursion undertaken by the four men, a flamboyant Italian, a reticent German, a conniving old Frenchman, and an overly-poised young Frenchman, would not be successfully poignant without the necessary yet brief background of their lives. Henri-Georges Clouzot rounds the characters through sly conversations and depositions disclosing wisdom that summarize their lives in a sentence or two: “You get to b a hundred [years old] very quickly. If you are in the right place and the right time” confesses the German tortured in a Nazi camp. We are aware of their finitude the moment Clouzot introduces them. The humble town, the uncompassionate xenophobia of the bar owner, the deleterious labor they engage, and the involuntary sedation are components which assemble their lives. They sustain a living that is not merciful or kind; a living that supports dreams but somehow never amounts to hope. The wages of fear are those for men like them who have nothing and lose nothing. Henri-Georges Clouzot’s injection of political commentary can be easily misconstrued. The oil rig is on fire. The executives consider the methodology to solve their oil problem. Transporting explosives in an unsafe truck is not a task for the insured drivers of the company. The illegal immigrants, without Clouzot hinting to any political topic just alluding to the urgency and need of money, are available to perform any perilous undertaking for money. This is their trade. The executive resolve to recruit the best drivers out of this pile of rotting men.

The movie concentrates on the struggle of two French men. Jo (Charles Vanel) and Mario (Yves Montand) clearly separated by a generation and fame but fused in their fervent memory and awaited return to their country. Both will test death’s wits by driving an old truck filled with explosive material. Jo, portraying by Charles Vanel, visibly reveals a character struggling to recover from his lofty past. Thus, Jo’s old wits gradually become predictable to Mario, the young man who attains infallibility through brute strength. Mario, performed by Yves Montand, represents the unusual type of patriot. The superimposition of this two character on the screen initiates by a striking father-son relationship. Mario and Jo fend off any opposition while at Las Piedras. As the trucks speed-up to precarious landscapes, Jo’s impervious aura begins to transmute. The change culminates in a scene of inimitable acting courage by Charles Vanel. The old man, with the untouchable presence of the first sequences, is now the mirror of a frustrated boy meeting impotency to counteract the hollow will of Mario. Jo’s reaction resembles a kid responding perturbed by the abuse of his elder. The scene is so dramatic – seeing an old man quiver and sob – that emotions flip from animosity to sympathy to empathy for Jo as Mario remains merciless. This determination to go through with the mission forces Mario to run over Jo’s leg when he gets stuck in an oil pit. The acting in the movie is compelling and attractive because the actors breathe life into characters that alter as they reveal their naked souls and move forwards into depths of tension unknown to men.

The passage through the landscape is not only a test to their connections but also a testament to their will, or lack thereof, to live. The job, as suicidal as they come, is composed of terrains that evaluate the level of friendship, loyalty, and care by contending the essence held within each. To achieve this exploration into the human psyche, H.G. Clouzot creates a journey revolving in emotional burden rather than the typical cruise across a taxing landscape. The landscape poses a challenge but the obstacle they fear is the load they carry. Their wits and the nitroglycerin can explode at any moment. Yet despite the certainty of death, they control their own destiny no matter how eviscerating the baggage could be.

The day of labor will bring each a handful of money to almost retire if it’s well spent. The caveat, we forget about during their daunting mission is the return. If they are to reach their destination they most travel back to the town. This is idea does not come until the end when we consider the return. “They have to return. Of course.” was my outright reaction when the truck, light, free and speedy, sliders down the hill driven by a gleeful, almost unblemished, conductor.