The Third Man and Loyal Love Subordinated to a Transcendent Justice

If there is a precise ethical statement that Carol Reed’s film, starring Orson Welles, leaves us with at the end, it is the following: both feelings and loyalty are subordinate to justice. The protagonist, Holly’s dilemma over whether to turn in his childhood friend Harry Lime after painfully discovering his involvement in the black market of pharmaceuticals (which led to the tragic deaths of children) governs much of the film, and the attitude he adopts by the end is worthy of analysis.

On the one hand, Holly represents an allegory of the immutability of a sense of justice inherent throughout circumstances, the understanding of the need to rise above passions and personal ties in favor of transcendent and timeless justice capable of asserting authority even over friendship. But on the other hand, it leads us to ask, what kind of justice allows you to turn your best friend over to the police?

In this sense, the film’s conclusion expresses that the value of justice represents the foundation of a pyramid upon which other values, such as friendship or loyalty, must be built. The idea conveyed by this ending is that there can be no legitimate friendship above what is just, and one cannot be loyal to an outcast and set aside the commitment and sense of responsibility to the community in order to defend a friend.

In The Third Man, community commitment takes on vital importance, being a key pillar of civic virtue that gives the individual the ability to act according to a strict moral compass and in favour of the common good, of which they are both a participant and a recipient. To prioritize universalism over personalism in the ethical system, it is essential for individuals to recognize themselves as part of a civic society and, therefore, be entitled to both commitments and rights.

In Holly’s case, there was initially some reluctance toward the justice system of that place, as he was a foreigner. It took a process of sensitization and community empathy (such as learning about the children’s decease caused by the drugs his friend was selling, with his full knowledge) to trigger in him the impartiality of a transcendent justice capable of making him set aside affection and passions. This, for example, did not happen with Anna, Harry’s lover, who, even after learning the horrible truth, remained blinded by the indiscipline and senselessness of her emotions.

In Anna’s case, we can see what Second World War survivor and philosopher Hannah Arendt called the “banality of evil.” Since Anna was never in direct contact with the evil (after all, she never actually saw those children perish), it became a simple secondary consequence of her pursuit of selfish well-being. This realization at the end of the film adds to its tragic aspect, as it opens Holly’s eyes to the people he has been spending time with. In Harry’s case, it was much worse, as he justified his actions from the heights of the Viennese Ferris wheel, referring to the human lives below as “dots,” making this trivialization of evil even more grotesque and evident.

On the other hand, it is crucial to highlight Holly’s impeccable, though distant, gentlemanly treatment of Anna throughout the film, maintaining his firm standard of justice despite feeling an evident attraction and being able to detach himself from a romance that he ultimately saw as harmful to exercising the law in its purest and most transcendent form. In this sense, when analyzing the ethical hierarchy structure mentioned earlier, we can infer that for Holly, friendship is not an autonomous value in itself but a consequence of having acted with legitimate justice.

Thus, we could say that the friendship between Holly and Harry never truly existed, as Holly was entirely unaware of Harry’s misdeeds. Therefore, one could deduce that the bond was illusory, and only through the lens of justice could reality be seen as it truly is.

As I mentioned, this is something Anna never managed to do, as she remained trapped in her own illusion and her immature and frivolous trivialization of evil. That conflicting tension finally erupts in full view during the final confrontation between Holly and Harry in the Viennese sewers, where Holly must hide his emotions and guide his actions based on what is right.

This scene gives the film one of its most tragic yet profound and reflective moments in cinematic history, honouring the inherent genius of The Third Man. Ultimately, when Holly makes the final decision to accept the authorities plan to turn in Harry, he completes the transition from loyal love to collective justice.

Finally, in the film’s last scene, when Holly exchanges silent, tense glances with Anna, it represents the underlying dichotomy between Holly and Anna: Holly aligned with justice, Anna clinging to her selfish feelings for Harry. The tragedy of this ending is that it contains many other endings within it: the end of the filial feelings between Holly and Anna, the end of the friendship between Holly and Harry, and finally, Holly’s initiation as a man of honor and principles.

We can conclude, therefore, that in The Third Man, justice serves as the essential foundation of all hierarchies, as it is the only value capable of giving reality to things; otherwise, all those virtues—from friendship, romantic love, and loyalty to compassion—would fall into the realm of fallacy and self-deception, as perfectly exemplified by the saying “the road to hell is paved with good intentions.”

Hell may be paved with good intentions, but fortunately, our beloved protagonist, Holly, did not fall into it, nor will those who understand that before true justice, no emotion or muse should take precedence. All that’s left is to give infinite thanks to The Third Man and director Carol Reed for this masterful ending and this masterful lesson.