Thelma Ritter’s final monologue in Sam Fuller’s grim masterpiece Pickup on South Street is in my High Watermark Pantheon of screen acting. Forget “screen acting”. Acting, period. It’s a brutally honest monologue – openly tragic – and devastating considering how the scene ends.
I feel like Quentin Tarantino is “nodding” to this scene in the confrontation between Dennis Hopper and Christopher Walken in True Romance.
Ritter’s work here is as good as it gets, and should be studied by actors. It would inspire anyone to try harder, go deeper, or at least attempt to be as truthful as Ritter is here.
I will never be ready for this scene. I dread it every time I see the film.
