A Disappointing Ride Up the Elevator to the Gallows

Maurice Ronet as Julien.

Florence and Julien are madly in love. The only obstacle to their happiness is Florence's husband, Simon, who happens to be Julien's boss. Julien devices a near-perfect plan to murder Simon and make it look like suicide.

"Near-perfect," I said. After Julien coolly commits the crime, he realizes a critical mistake and quickly heads back to retrieve an incriminating piece of evidence. There's only one problem: It's Saturday and, as Julien rides the elevator to the dead man's office, a security guard shuts off the building's power and departs for the weekend. That leaves Julien trapped between floors.

A revolver to the head.

The opening twenty minutes of Louis Malle's debut film Elevator to the Gallows (1958) provide a master class in efficient filmmaking. The murder sequence contains minimal dialogue, relying on its stunning black-and-white visuals to grab the viewer's attention. A highlight is when Malle cuts from a close-up of the revolver pointed at the victim's head to a secretary sharpening a pencil, which substitutes for the sound of the gunshot. One suspects it's the kind of intelligent film craftsmanship that would make Hitchcock smile.

However, the trouble with Elevator to the Gallows is that the rest of the movie can't live up to its brilliant opening. Julien's dilemma in the elevator takes a backseat to two other stories: a rebellious young man and her girlfriend who takes Julien's roadster for an extended joyride and Florence's confusion over Julien's failure to rendezvous at the appointed place and time. 

Moreau bathed in natural lighting.

The only thing that saves the latter plot thread is that Florence is played by Jeanne Moreau. Few actresses of her era used their facial expressions to convey their thoughts and emotions with such visual dexterity. Director Malle bathes her face in deep shadows, blinking neon lights, and rain. It's just a shame that Moreau's role consists mostly of walking around a lonely Paris at night.

In contrast, too much time is spent on the youths played by Georges Poujouly and Yori Bertin. The young man's disenchantment with his monotonous life leads him to assume Julien's identity with disastrous consequences. Malle's challenge is that these characters are not compelling, even though one could argue the angry young man is the forerunner to Jean-Paul Belmondo's reckless "hero" in Godard's 1960 New Wave classic Breathless.

Fans of jazz music may enjoy the improvised soundtrack by jazz legend Miles Davis. It was supposedly recorded in one night while Davis and four other musicians watched scenes from the film. 

While Elevator to the Gallows fails to live up to its reputation, it did launch Louis Malle's impressive career, make a star of Jeanne Moreau, and cement Miles Davis's reputation as an influential jazz artist. Those may be sufficient reasons to watch it. However, I still can't help but wish that Elevator to the Gallows could have sustained the brilliance of its opening scenes.

The Four Favorite Noirs Blogathon in Support of National Classic Movie Day

As is our tradition at the Café, we are celebrating National Classic Movie Day on May 16th by hosting a blogathon. This year's Four Favorite Noirs Blogathon focuses on one of the most popular genres among classic movie fans. The goal is to pay tribute to many of the greatest films noirs, such as Out of the Past and Double Indemnity, as well as highlight lesser-known classics (e.g., Black Angel, Brighton Rock).

We invite you to check out the film noirs selected by the bloggers below!

4 Stars Films

The Classic Film Muse

Classic Film & TV Cafe

Crítica Retrô

Hamlette's Soliloquy

Hometowns to Hollywood

The Last Drive-in

Make Mine Film Noir

Once Upon a Screen

A Person in the Dark

Phyllis Loves Classic Movies

Realweegiemidget Reviews

Shadows and Satin

Silver Screenings

Taking Up Room

Whimsically Classic

The Four Favorite Noirs Blogathon in support of National Classic Movie Day

To celebrate National Classic Movie Day on May 16th, we are hosting the Four Favorite Noirs Blogathon. Per its title, each participating blogger is invited to write about four of her or his favorite film noirs from cinema's classic era. These films don't have to be your all-time favorite noirs--just four that you enjoy and want to share with your readers. Your choices can range from the famous (Double Indemnity) to the lesser-known (Black Angel) and even include international noirs such as Elevator to the Gallows.

If you want to participate, please make sure your blog complies with our blogathon guidelines. Then, leave a comment below with your blog's web address or e-mail it to rick@classicfilmtvcafe.com. When you publish your article on May 16th, please include a link back to this post. We'd appreciate it if you'd post the graphic above to promote the blogathon.

If you don't have a blog, you can still participate by listing your four favorite film noirs on Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest, or another social media platform. All we ask is that you wait until May 16th to do so.

Finally, since National Classic Movie Day is all about our love of classic movies, it's a great day to introduce a friend to the wonderful films from the silents to the 1970s!

Here are the participating bloggers so far:

4 Stars Films

Backstory Classic

Classic Film Addict

Classic Film & TV Cafe

Crítica Retrô

Hamlette's Soliloquy

Hometowns to Hollywood

In the Good Old Days of Classic Hollywood

Lady Eve's Reel Life

The Last Drive-in

Make Mine Film Noir

Once Upon a Screen

A Person in the Dark

Phyllis Loves Classic Movies

Realweegiemidget Reviews

Reel Charlie

Shadows and Satin

Silver Screenings

Taking Up Room

This n' That: A Potpourri of Books, TV, Movies, Life & Fun Things

Whimsically Classic

Wonderful World of Cinema

The Dark, Rainy Streets of "Phantom Lady"

An example of Siodmak's lighting.

If you've read this blog recently, you know we've been on a film noir kick since the start of the new year. We started by revisiting The Blue Dahlia and then moving on to This Gun For Hire and Black Angel. Our latest noir is Robert Siodmak's 1944 "B" mystery Phantom Lady, which--like Black Angel--features an amateur female sleuth.

The film opens with civil engineer Scott Henderson (Alan Curtis) meeting a mysterious, distraught woman (Fay Helm) at an empty bar on a hot Saturday night in New York City. Scott, who has been stood up by his wife, asks the dark-haired stranger if she wants to see a musical revue with him. She initially refuses, but then reluctantly agrees on one condition: They exchange no names, no addresses, and never meet again. Scott agrees.

Later that night, Scott goes home to find the police at his apartment. His wife has been strangled with one of his ties ("A knot so tight it had to be cut with a knife," says one of the detectives). Scott's alibi falls apart when he can't identify his mysterious date. Even worse, the bartender, a taxi driver, and a drummer at the theatre all act as if they had never seen him.

Scott is arrested, convicted, and sentenced to die. It's up to his office co-worker Carol (Ella Raines) to find the real murderer. It's obvious to everyone--except Scott--that Carol is mad about the civil engineer.

Franchot Tone, Thomas Gomez, and Ella Raines in a telling scene.

This premise is similar to the later--and better--Black Angel, in which a man's wife must prove his innocence while he awaits his fate on death row. Black Angel provides more complexity and more nuance. The only element separating Phantom Lady from a dozen other mysteries is that the key witness--the mysterious woman from the bar--appears to have vanished without a trace. Well, there is another distinguishing trait: the killer, played by the biggest star in the picture--doesn't show up until the film is half over.

A passer-by (far right) likely saves Ella's life at the train platform.

Yet, if Phantom Lady lacks a creative spark plotwise, it benefits mightily from Robert Siodmak's moody direction and Ella Raines's determined detective. Siodmak creates some knockout visuals once Carol takes to roaming the city's darkened streets to find the killer. The scene in which she follows the suspicious bartender is a tour-de-force as the two move through rainy streets, a shadow-filled train platform, and partially lit arches. It as good as the famous sequence in Cat People (1942) in which Jane Randolph is followed by something after leaving the swimming pool.

I'm curious as to whether the decision to have the murderer wring his hands compulsively was the screenwriter's or Siodmak's. Regardless, it provides the director with the opportunity to provide some disconcerting close-ups of the hands of the strangler.

As for Phantom Lady's star, Ella Raines makes Carol so likable that it's easy to see why Inspector Burgess decides to help her. (Sure, he makes up an excuse for doing so, but I think it's clear that he admires Carol.) She also gets to display her first-rate acting chops when slipping in a disguise as a trampy lady who takes a liking to a manic drummer (and key witness) played by Elisha Cook, Jr.

Raines had a solid, if unspectacular, acting career. She starred in a handful of "A" pictures opposite leading such men as John Wayne (Tall in the Saddle), Randolph Scott (Corvette K-225), and Eddie Bracken (Hail the Conquering Hero). She later headlined the 1954-55 TV series Janet Dean, Registered Nurse.

Ella Raines also reteamed with director Robert Siodmak in another film noir, The Suspect (1944), which starred Charles Laughton. A year later, Siodmak would make The Spiral Staircase, one of my favorite mysteries, and follow it with his noir masterpiece The Killers (1944). I suspect we will reviewing that one in the near future, too.

Roy William Neill's "Black Angel"

Mavis is about to be murdered.

It's a shame that Roy William Neill never got to direct an "A" film during his tenure at Universal Pictures in the 1940s. I'd rate him as the studio's best low-budget director. His films typically had atmosphere and visual flair to spare. He is best remembered for Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man (1943) and for helming eleven of the twelve "modern day" Sherlock Holmes pictures starring Basil Rathbone. His finest film may be the Holmes entry The Scarlet Claw (1944), but his last movie, the film noir Black Angel (1946), showed a visual stylist at the peak of his powers.

The film opens with an elaborate tracking shot up the side of a high-rise into the apartment of singer Mavis Marlowe (Constance Dowling). Mavis augments her income via blackmail, so it's not surprising when she winds up murdered. The police arrest Kirk Bennett (John Phillips), one of her blackmail victims who had recently ended an affair with Mavis. Despite his pleas of innocence, Kirk is found guilty of first-degree murder and sentenced to die.

A smiling Dan Duryea.

His wife Catherine (June Vincent) stands by Kirk throughout his ordeal. She never wavers in her belief that he is innocent. As Kirk awaits his execution, Catherine decides to conduct her own investigation. She enlists the aid of Mavis' ex-husband, Martin Blair (Dan Duryea), who reluctantly agrees to help. Catherine and Martin suspect the involvement of a nightclub owner named Marko (Peter Lorre). To collect more information on the mysterious Marko, Catherine and Martin go to work as a singing act at his club Rio's.

Catherine gets the safe combination from Marko.

The screenplay by Roy Chanslor was loosely adapted from Cornell Woolrich's 1943 novel Black Angel, which Woolrich expanded from an earlier short story called Murder in Wax. Chanslor's script actually adheres closer to the short story, which features a doozy of a twist. Both Chanslor and Woolrich have impressive writing pedigrees. Woolrich's literary works provided the plots for a number of memorable films, such as Rear Window, The Leopard Man, and The Window. Chanslor toiled mostly as a screenwriter of "B" movies, but two of his Western novels were adapted as Johnny Guitar (1954) and Cat Ballou (1965).

I'll avoid any plot spoilers here, but will note that Black Angel sports a clever twist, too. However, it may not come as a surprise for discerning viewers. The film provides a pretty good clue right from the outset. In retrospect, the twist negates a large portion of the movie, a tactic that you may find oft-putting. For me, the payoff was worth it.

Dan Duryea gets to play a sympathetic protagonist for once. He teams well with June Vincent, a good actress who spent most of her career working in television (she guest-starred on Perry Mason five times). Alas, the always enjoyable Peter Lorre has little to do as Marko.

Martin is smitten with Catherine.

Roy William Neill is the reason to see Black Angel. He often packs his scenes with information, such as when Martin and Catherine are dancing at Rio's so they can learn more about Marko. As Catherine watches Marko walking down the stairs, Martin turns his eyes to her--a brief look that lets us know he's falling for her. Neill also uses music creatively, starting with the song playing on the phonograph when Mavis' body is discovered. We later learn this song, "Heartbreak," was written by Martin for his ex-wife. Music comes into play again when Martin uses it as a cue to warn Catherine of impending doom as she breaks into Marko's wall safe.

Sadly, Roy William Neill died of a heart attack at age 59. Black Angel indicates that Universal was perhaps considering him for bigger movies. Instead, this interesting film noir represents his swan song.

This Gun For Hire: One of the Great Film Noirs in American Cinema

Alan Ladd in his star-making role.

This practically perfect early noir has a strong reputation and yet, while researching for this review, I was left with the feeling that it's underrated. The prestigious British Film Institute doesn't even include This Gun for Hire (1942) in its list of "10 Great American Film Noirs." (Yes, it would rank in my Top Ten.)

Alan Ladd became a star as anti-hero Raven, a contract killer who is double-crossed by his client. The film's opening scene tells us all we need to know about the quiet Raven. He takes in a stray kitten and feeds it milk. But when the cleaning lady (dressed like a showgirl) shoos away the cat, Raven grabs her, rips her dress, and slaps her backhanded across the face. Here is a man that is ruthless, but with a morsel of humanity buried deep inside. (Later, Raven tries to rationalize his affection for cats by claiming that they bring luck.)

Raven kills the innocent girlfriend.

Still, the screenplay by Albert Maltz and W. R. Burnett leaves no doubt that, first and foremost, Raven is a man that will do whatever is required. Knowing that a victim's innocent girlfriend can identify him, Raven shoots her in cold blood. Later, after vowing not to kill again, he does just that when trying to evade a policeman.

The plot hinges on a chance encounter when Raven and nightclub entertainer Ellen Graham (Veronica Lake) wind up sitting together on a train from San Francisco to Los Angeles. Raven is going to L.A. to find Willard Gates (Laird Cregar), an obvious middleman who hired Raven and then tipped off the police by paying the killer with stolen money. Raven's objective is to find out who Gates works for and then kill Gates and his employer.

Unknown to Raven, Ellen is also traveling to meet Gates, who owns The Neptune Club. A U.S. senator has informed Ellen that Gates is working for a powerful man who is selling a secret formula to the enemy. Ellen's mission is to find out the identity of Gates' employer.

Veronica Lake and Alan Ladd.

The glue that holds the film together is the relationship between Raven and Ellen. From the outset, he is surprised by her kindness. When he steals $5 from her, she demands he return it, but then offers to give him $1. Raven admires her street smarts and, though he's careful never to show it, he undoubtedly finds her attractive. Most importantly, Raven trusts her--enough to describe his abusive childhood (if only in the context of a dream).

Ellen is touched by the fact this hardened killer is willing to confide his darkest secret to her. She is also attracted to his decisiveness and moxie when he rescues her from Gates' henchman. In many films, this relationship would have involved into an unlikely romance. But in This Gun for Hire, Ellen kisses Raven on the cheek and that's it. There are no looks of missed opportunities. Raven is simply not a man that falls in love easily (if at all). And Ellen truly loves her police detective boyfriend (Robert Preston).

Laird Cregar as Gates,

Despite the fine performances from the leads, Laird Cregar almost steals the film as Gates. He's a villain that's willing to send a hired gun to kill people, but wants no part of the actual event. When his henchman is describing how he will skilfully dispose of Ellen's body, Gates squirms uncomfortably and tells him to stop. Cregar provides the film's humor, but in a subtle way that never comes across as obvious comic relief. It's a performance that somehow reminded me of Vincent Price's turn as Shelby Carpenter in Laura (1944).

Director Frank Tuttle and cinematographer John Seitz team up on a number of exciting visuals. The chase through the train yard and the drainage pipes may be the film's highlight, but there are clever bits throughout. My favorite may be a scene where the hotel maid goes to use a pay phone in a police-filled lobby, unaware that Raven is hiding there. He presses his gun against her side as she pretends to talk on the phone. Her phone dialogue consists of answers to his questions. It's a brilliant merger of smart dialogue and murky lighting.

Veronica Lake as Ellen.

John Seitz, by the way, would earn seven Oscar nominations for cinematography during his career. He served as the director of photography on a number of film noir classics, including Double Indemnity (1944), The Big Clock (1948), and Sunset Blvd. (1950).

This Gun for Hire was loosely based on Graham Greene's 1936 novel This Gun for Sale. James Cagney directed a remake in 1957 called Short Cut to Hell, which starred Robert Ivers and Georgann Johnson. It was Cagney's only stint in the director's chair.

Raymond Chandler's "The Blue Dahlia"

The Blue Dahlia nightclub.

"As pictures go, it is pretty lively. No classic, but no dud either."

That's how Raymond Chandler described the movie made from his only original screenplay in a 1946 letter. Chandler was typically critical of his work. In fact, The Blue Dahlia is a very good film noir. It's almost a classic, but a hastily-constructed ending and some sloppiness around the edges keep it from achieving that goal.

Alan Ladd as Johnny.

Alan Ladd stars as Johnny Morrison, a Navy officer who has returned from World War II to find his wife Helen throwing a wild party and smooching another man. Things go downhill from there, especially when Helen confesses that she lied about their son's death--the young boy died in a car accident while she was driving under the influence. Understandably, Johnny walks out on his wife and hitches a ride with a beautiful stranger named Joyce (Veronica Lake), who happens to be the wife of Helen's lover.

Buzz talking with Helen (Doris Dowling).

If you think that's a startling coincidence, then consider that Johnny's Navy pal Buzz goes to look for Johnny. He ends up in a bar sitting next to Helen, who invites him back to her apartment. The next morning, the hotel maid finds Helen's dead body. As the police search for Johnny, he starts his own investigation to uncover Helen's murderer.

As a novelist, Raymond Chandler was a master at intertwining subplots into a complex mystery. His attempts to do the same in The Blue Dahlia rely too much on coincidences. To Chandler's defense, he was given little time to write the screenplay. According to producer John Houseman, Paramount was in a rush to finish the picture because Alan Ladd was being recalled to the Army. (Others have maintained that Ladd, who served a year in the Army in 1943, was never recalled in 1946 and left for his ranch when The Blue Dahlia was completed.)

(Spoiler alert on the way!)

Alan Ladd and Veronica Lake.

The film's biggest flaw, though, is the slapdash ending in which the house detective turns out to be the killer (I'm still foggy on his motive). It's also weird to watch Johnny and Joyce playfully flirt in the final scene. Johnny has apparently failed to inform her that her husband lies dead or critically wounded. It's hard to totally blame Chandler for either of these inconsistencies. His original ending had Buzz, who was suffering from a head injury, murder Helen and then forget it until the climax. Unfortunately, the Department of the Navy objected, fearing that it would cast U.S. veterans in a negative light. Paramount requested the revised ending and Chandler provided it.

Despite its flaws, Chandler's script boasts well-developed characters and sharp dialogue. I love the little touches like a thug knocking out Johnny, spotting a nice pen in his pocket, and taking it. Chandler received an Oscar nomination for Best Original Screenplay. Two years earlier, Chandler received his only other nomination for co-writing Double Indemnity with Billy Wilder.

Veronica Lake as Joyce.

The Blue Dahlia was the third of four screen pairings of Alan Ladd and Veronica Lake. They had learned to play off each naturally by then, making their "meet cute" a charming scene despite its unlikeliness (really, why would someone like Joyce pick up a complete stranger walking along the road?). In fact. The Blue Dahlia may feature my favorite Veronica Lake performance. The supporting cast is solid, though William Bendix goes over the top once or twice as the troubled Buzz.

While Chandler thought George Marshall was a mediocre director, Marshall keeps the plot moving along smartly. He also employs some effective long shots, such as when Joyce spots Johnny at a hotel desk and warns him about the police.

The bottom line is that The Blue Dahlia remains a memorable film noir despite its imperfections. It's just not as well-written as Chandler's Double Indemnity nor as stylish as Ladd and Lake's This Gun for Hire.

See What Bogart Sees in "Dark Passage"

Bogart--after we finally see his face.

As regular Cafe readers know, I'm a big fan of writer-director Delmer Daves. My definition of "filmmaker" is one who both writes and directs a film. Frankly, it always irks me when a director--who shoots another person's script--uses the credit "A John Smith Film." Daves wrote or co-wrote almost all of the thirty movies he directed. Ironically, one of the few that he didn't author was To the Victor (1948), which was penned by Richard Brooks--who later became another acclaimed writer-director.

Parry escapes in a barrel; one of the
few opening shots not in first-person.

This lengthy introduction brings us is to one of Daves' best directed films, the 1947 film noir Dark Passage. It opens mid-plot with convict Vincent Parry (Humphrey Bogart) having just escaped from San Quentin prison. Parry eludes the police by hitching a ride with an inquisitive man who quickly figures out the identity of his passenger. When the driver unwisely stops the car, Parry beats the man unconscious and drags the body from the car to hide it. He is spotted by an attractive young woman (Lauren Bacall), who recognizes Parry instantly--and then offers to provide him with safe passage to San Francisco. The perplexed Parry agrees.

Lauren Bacall as Irene.

The escaped convict's mysterious benefactor, Irene Jansen, lets him stay in her luxurious hilltop apartment, buys him new clothes, and gives him $1000. We later learn that she attended his trial everyday (he was accused of killing his wife) and wrote a letter to the newspaper proclaiming his innocence. Is Irene's interest driven solely by the fact that her father was once wrongly accused, too? Has she somehow developed legitimate feelings for Parry? Or does she have an ulterior motive for helping him?

One of the film's few flaws is that its plot, based on David Goodis' novel, depends on a series of happenstances. Irene happens to be driving by when Parry escapes from prison. She happens to be a friend of Madge (Agnes Moorehead) who knew Parry and his wife. A police detective happens to be in the same cafe where Parry stops for breakfast. And the cab driver conveniently knows an unlicensed plastic surgeon that performs operations at 3 a.m. Still, Daves unwinds the plot slowly, so that its unlikely connections somehow seem more believable. 

Bogart in bandages.

Daves' greatest contribution, though, is his direction--and his brilliant idea to show the first hour through Parry's eyes. A key plot element--Perry's decision to change his looks through surgery--left Daves with few options. Bogart could have played the pre-surgery scenes in make-up to look different. With his distinctive facial features, I can't imagine that working. Daves' other option was to have another actor play Parry and dub Bogart's voice (or have Parry "change" his voice, too). Either of those choices would have been ridiculous. So, there's a clever practicality to Daves' approach.

From a literary standpoint, the first-person perspective limits us to experience only what Parry sees and hears. We harbor the same suspicions about Irene's extreme generosity, even while the camera lingers on her face (Lauren Bacall has never looked lovelier). We also "hear" Parry's thoughts, so we know things that could be conveyed no other way (e.g., that he is undoubtedly innocent of murdering his wife). Other directors have used the first-person perspective to great effect in individual scenes, such as Rouben Mamoulian in Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. And, of course, Robert Montgomery famously shot all of The Lady in the Lake (1947) in first-person (though it eventually comes off as a mere gimmick). However, I can think of no director that employed it to greater effect than Delmer Daves in Dark Passage.

Stevenson as the plastic surgeon.

Although the entire cast is first-rate, the supporting players (many of whom I was unfamiliar with) deserve to be highlighted. Journeyman actor Tom D'Andrea has a terrific extended conversation with Bogart in a taxi cab, the latter's face hidden in shadows. As the craggy plastic surgeon, Houseley Stevenson does nothing to initially instill confidence (he confides to Parry: "I perfected my own special technique twelve years ago before I was kicked out of the medical profession."). Finally, there's Rory Mallinson, who hits all the right notes as Parry's none-too-bright, trumpet-playing friend. One could also argue that the city of San Francisco plays a supporting roles as well, as Daves' camera lovingly captures its architecture and streets.

Surprisingly, Dark Passage was not a hit for its two stars. Allegedly, Jack Warner was displeased with it because Bogart's face wasn't shown until an hour into the 106-minute film. Yet, that very "limitation" has contributed significantly to its reputation, Indeed, Dark Passage has aged well and taken its place as one of the finest film noirs and a testament to Delmer Daves' innovative qualities as a filmmaker.

Film Noir A to Z

One of the most popular features at the Cafe is our "A to Z" list. This month, we tackle film noir--a daunting task because there so many good ones. For example, for "D", we could have gone with any of the following:  The Dark Corner, Dark City, Detour, Desperate Hours, or Drive a Crooked Road. So, if we omitted one of your favorites, please leave a comment!

Sterling Hayden gets tough in
The Asphalt Jungle.

A - The Asphalt Jungle.  A sense of doom permeates John Huston's taut suspense film in which a "perfect caper" goes awry.

B - The Big Heat. A homicide detective (Glenn Ford) takes on a crime syndicate when his wife is murdered. Favorite line is when Gloria Grahame tells the hero: "You're about as romantic as a pair of handcuffs."

C - Cornered. Dick Powell tracks post-World War II Nazis to Argentina to avenge the murder of his French Resistance wife. Powell is terrific, Walter Slezak slimy, and the ending brutal.

Stanwyck and Fred MacMurray in
Double Indemnity.

D - Double Indemnity. Billy Wilder's classic noir ensured Barbara Stanwyck's admission into the Femme Fatale Hall of Fame (if there was one).

E - Edge of Doom. Following the death of his mother, a mentally unbalanced young man (Farley Granger), with a grudge against the church, murders a priest in this grim noir.

F - Force of Evil. "If you need a broken man to love, break your husband," says John Garfield's tough-talking lawyer to Marie Windsor's femme fatale in this poetic picture. Director Abraham Polonsky was subsequently blacklisted and wouldn't direct again for over 20 years.

Peggy Cummins as a sideshow
sharpshooter in Gun Crazy.

G - Gun Crazy. Peggy Cummins and John Dall love guns...and each other. Unfortunately, she loves money, too, and leads them on a lethal crime spree.

H - Human Desire. Gloria Grahame sizzles as a sexpot with an abusive husband who lures Glenn Ford into a torrid affair. Now, if she only get rid of her husband (Broderick Crawford).... French director Jean Renoir earlier adapted the same Emile Zola novel, The Human Beast, to great effect.

I - In a Lonely Place. Noir favorite Gloria Grahame plays a starlet and Humphrey Bogart a screenwriter suspected of murder in this dark tale set against cynical Hollywood.

J - Johnny O'Clock. A casino provides an interesting backdrop for the typical plot about a basically good guy (Dick Powell) who gets mixed up with murder and crooked cops. With Evelyn Keyes and Lee J. Cobb.

K - Kiss Me Deadly. Mike Hammer (Ralph Meeker) pummels bad guys, gets beat up a lot, and looks for the "great whatsit" in Robert Aldrich's one-of-a-kind cult noir.

Preminger's moody direction on Laura.

L - Laura. Clifton Webb created one of the great characters in American cinema with his portrayal of Waldo Lydecker. Of course, the rest of the film ain't bad either with Otto Preminger's stylish direction, David  Raksin's haunting music, and the stunning Gene Tierney.

M - The Maltese Falcon. John Huston's classic is "the stuff that dreams are made of." You knew that as soon as you saw that opening shot of the office windows with the letters reversed, right?

N - Nightmare Alley. Tyrone Power gives perhaps his finest performance as a seedy carnival hustler who hits the big time--briefly--with a mind-reading act.

Robert Mitchum in Out of the Past.

O - Out of the Past. With its contrasts of bright lights and dark shadows, Out of the Past is a visual feast. It's also a compelling tale of a man pulled back into the shadows of his past--no matter how hard he tries to escape them. Perhaps, my favorite film noir.

P - Pickup on South Street. A pickpocket steals a woman's wallet. What neither of them know is that it contains microfilm with government secrets coveted by her communist spy ex-boyfriend.

Q - Quicksand. A petty crime snowballs into a heap of trouble for garage mechanic Mickey Rooney. It doesn't help that Peter Lorre is on hand as the shady owner of a penny arcade.

Dennis O'Keefe and female
companions in Raw Deal.

R - Raw Deal. An unexpected love triangle highlights Anthony Mann's sharp tale of an escaped convict trying to elude the police and a crime boss trying to kill him.

S - Sunset Blvd. Are you ready for your close-up? Of course, you are!

T - The Third Man. There's this guy named Harry Lime in post-World War II Vienna....

U - Underworld U.S.A. A youth grows into a vicious criminal so that he avenge his father's death at the hands of mobsters. A relentless look at corruption by Samuel Fuller.

V - Vicki. Why is detective Richard Boone so zealous about solving model Jean Peters' murder? This moody variation of Laura is actually a remake of 1941's I Wake Up Screaming.

W - The Web. After a memorable supporting turn in Laura, Vincent Price plays a smooth villain in this seldom-shown noir co-starring Edmond O'Brien (who would later star in an even better noir, D.O.A.).

A through-the-window tracking shot
in The Amazing Mr. X.

X - The Amazing Mr. X (well, this one is a bit of a cheat). Also known as The Spiritualist, this "B" film shares similarities with the bigger-budgeted Nightmare Alley. In this one, Turhan Bey plays a con artist who becomes an unwilling accomplice in a murder plot.

Y - You Only Live Once. Fritz Lang's 1937 classic is considered an early noir, largely due to its bleak outlook in telling the story of an ex-con who seems unable to escape his tragic fate.

Z - The Zither music in The Third Man.

3 on 3: Film Noir

Each week this month, the Cafe will present a "3 on 3 panel" in which three experts will answer three questions on a single classic film topic. This week, the Cafe poses three questions on film noir to: Gary Cahall from MovieFanFare!; Dorian from the blog Tales of the Easily Distracted; and Sheri Chinen Biesen, author of Blackout: World War II and the Origins of Film Noir.

1. What is your definition of a film noir and what film do you consider the prototype--the one that best exemplifies the genre?

Stanwyck and MacMurray in
Double Indemnity.

Gary: Film Noir is the accidental love child of German silent expressionist cinema and Warner Bros.’ 1930s crime dramas, raised in an atmosphere of World War II heroism and Cold War paranoia. Along with the requisite shadowy streets (big city or small town) and shadowy deeds (premeditated or accidental), a successful noir picture often has a protagonist who is walking the fine line between good and evil, and who--if it’s a male--is just as likely to kill or be killed by the female lead as he is to kiss her at the movie’s close. And no matter how many characters are in the film, the one constant presence is Fate.

I know it’s not the most daring of choices, but to me the picture that best captures these elements is director Billy Wilder’s 1944 thriller Double Indemnity, starring Fred MacMurray, Barbara Stanwyck, and Edward G. Robinson. A seemingly smart guy in over his head, a seductive and amoral temptress, and a “fool-proof” murder plot that’s not as simple as it appears...all with whip-smart dialogue from Wilder and co-scripter Raymond Chandler, of Philip Marlowe fame.

Dorian: I’d define a film noir as a story in which the bleakest aspects of humanity keep trying to get the upper hand, and the protagonist(s) keep trying to thwart those aspects against all odds. Those “bleakest aspects” can range from one character’s problem to an overall tough situation affecting many characters.

Peter Lorre in Stranger on
the Third Floor.

Sheri: The antihero in Stranger on the Third Floor complains, “What a gloomy dump. Why don't they put in a bigger lamp?” Paul Schrader defines noir as “Hollywood films of the 1940s and early 1950s that portrayed the world of dark, slick city streets, crime and corruption.” Film noir is a series of atmospheric black-and-white wartime-postwar Hollywood crime films known for shadowy style, doomed antiheroes, lethal femme fatales and cynical hardboiled worldview. Literally, “black film” or “dark cinema,” film noir was coined in 1946 by French critics discovering dark wartime Hollywood films they were seeing for the first time. This dark film trend was recognized in the U.S. In my book Blackout: World War II and the Origins of Film Noir, I explain how wartime Hollywood blackouts and censorship influenced film noir. Double Indemnity is an exemplar of noir style.


2. If you had to single out one director that influenced film noir than any other, who would it be?

Gary: Austrian-born Fritz Lang, who presaged the noir style with such films as M and the Dr. Mabuse movies in Europe before fleeing to America when Hitler came to power. His first Hollywood project, the 1936 lynch mob drama Fury with Spencer Tracy, contained a number of noir sensibilities, as did his 1941 “let’s kill Hitler” thriller Man Hunt. Within the noir demimonde itself, Lang’s resume includes The Woman in the Window, Scarlet Street, The Big Heat, and a picture that’s my answer to question #3.

MacMurray and Robinson in
Wilder's classic film noir.

Dorian: Of all the talented directors who’ve influenced film noir, I’d single out Billy Wilder because of his gleefully jaundiced view of humanity. Even Wilder’s comedies have a strong undercurrent of cynicism, so it’s only natural that his dramas and suspense films would fit so well in the noir universe, including Sunset Boulevard (1950), Ace in the Hole (1951), and of course, my personal favorite, Double Indemnity (1944).

Sheri: So many fine noir directors. Tough choice. . . .While Fritz Lang is very important, as is Robert Siodmak, one of the most influential noir auteurs was émigré writer-director Billy Wilder (Double Indemnity, Sunset Boulevard, Lost Weekend, Ace in the Hole).


3. What is your favorite underrated film noir, the one film that doesn't get the attention it should?

Gary: While the City Sleeps, a later (1956) genre entry that’s part “psycho killer” suspenser and part hard-boiled newspaper drama. A serial murderer dubbed “The Lipstick Killer” is preying on women in New York City, and Vincent Price, the ne’er-do-well son of a deceased media mogul, offers a promotion to whoever among his top newsmen can break the story and bring the maniac to justice. The suspense comes not so much from trying to guess the murderer’s identity (we see him “in action” before the opening credits), but from watching how far reporter Dana Andrews, photo editor James Craig, city editor Thomas Mitchell, and wire service head George Sanders will go—from office politicking and backstabbing to using their wives/girlfriends (Rhonda Fleming and Ida Lupino, among others) as “bait”—to win Price’s contest. Oh, and Lang clearly shows that one of the things driving the “mama’s boy” madman into his flights of homicidal rage is EC horror comics.

Dorian: I’ve always felt that Henry Hathaway’s The Dark Corner (1946) was an underrated noir. It covers so many classic tropes that it’s almost like “Film Noir’s Greatest Hits,” in a good way! One of the things I like most about it was Lucille Ball’s character Kathleen. She’s warm, loving, and practical, yet also strong and able to think on her feet and help save the day when hero Mark Stevens is up against it.

Elisha Cook, Jr. in Phantom Lady.

Sheri: Many underrated noir films. . . . Double Indemnity is more influential than many realize in spurring the film noir trend recognized in the U.S. film industry during the war. More modest early underrated noir include Stranger on the Third Floor and Phantom Lady (which needs to be released on DVD and Blu-Ray). Lang's Ministry of Fear is underrated with beautiful noir style shot during wartime blackouts just before Siodmak filmed Phantom Lady and Wilder shot Double Indemnity. Dead Reckoning, Out of the Past, Act of Violence and Tension are also great.

Film Noir Classic Collection, Volume 5

Released today by Warner Home Video, Film Noir Classic Collection, Volume 5 is a four disc set showcasing eight double-featured films, a sampling of thrillers ranging from the iconic to the obscure.

Disc one is strong, pairing Edward Dmytryk's Cornered (1945) with Anthony Mann's Desperate (1947). Cornered was the second hit teaming of star Dick Powell with director Dmytryk, and it followed their private-eye noir masterpiece, Murder, My Sweet, by a year. In this outing, Powell is a Royal Canadian Air Force vet doggedly tracking his wife's killer across the globe. To read Rick's in-depth review of Cornered at the Cafe last month, click here.

Desperate was a breakout film for director Anthony Mann, the first in a series of late-'40s noirs that launched his career. Mann's signature is his strong visual style, and this fast-paced story of an innocent man on the run is told seamlessly, boosted by stylish set-pieces (including the classic of a fierce back room beating that sets an overhead light swaying), a smart script and George Diskant's cinematography. Steve Brodie, as magnetic as he is powerful in the role of an honest truck driver turned fall guy, delivers a stand-out performance. With creamy Audrey Long as his bride, menacing Raymond Burr as his nemesis and Jason Robards, Sr., as the cynical/affable police lieutenant. Desperate, a staple at noir festivals and Mann retrospectives, is one of the gems of this collection.

Disc two is more eclectic and opens with a fact-based crime expose, The Phenix City Story (1955), directed by Phil Karlson. Veteran LA newsman Clete Roberts kicks it off with a 13+ minute news report plus interviews. Then the dramatized story of the 1954 assassination of an Alabama politician begins. It's a brutal (with a capital 'B') chunk of history. With John McIntyre, Richard Kiley and the future Mrs. Bing Crosby, Kathryn Grant. Next up, Dial 1119 (1950), a mad-killer-on-the-loose tale directed by Gerald Mayer (Louis B's nephew). The crazed killer (Marshall Thompson) holes up in a neighborhood bar and holds its staff and patrons hostage during a police stand-off. Virginia Field takes a nifty turn as a barfly/seductress and William Conrad appears briefly as "Chuckles," the bartender. Otherwise, this one's mostly interesting for its depiction of the era's bar culture and attitudes toward the "insanity defense."

Disc three features the formidable down-and-dirty Armored Car Robbery (1950). Taut and intense, it runs a very fast 68 minutes - that's no surpise with action/suspense master Richard Fleischer directing. Gravel-voiced noir stalwart Charles McGraw stars as a grimly determined LAPD lieutenant bent on avenging the murder of his partner during an armored car robbery. William Talman, a few years before he became a familiar face as D.A. Hamilton Burger on TV's "Perry Mason," is chillingly reptilian as the heist mastermind; hard-boiled, slightly worn femme fatale Adele Jergens isn't quite Virginia Mayo, but she's not bad at all. With solid Steve Brodie, this time as the getaway car driver. Armored Car Robbery is ferocious noir that works from start to finish; the film ends with buddy moment as the jaded lieutenant shares a cynical laugh with his new (and newly manned-up) partner. I imagine Jean-Pierre Melville must've watched this a couple of times before he made Bob le flambeur (1955).

Also included on disc three is Crime in the Streets (1956), a juvenile delinquent drama directed by Don Siegel, starring John Cassavetes. The story originally aired as a teleplay and the film looks and feels like Golden Age TV. Cassavetes' performance as an overheated teenage gang leader on the verge of mayhem is the main reason to watch this one. He's spellbinding. With Sal Mineo and James Whitmore.

Disc four offers the final double-feature, Deadline at Dawn (1946) and Backfire (1950).

Deadline at Dawn, adapted from a novel by Cornell Woolrich/aka/William Irish (Rear Window), boasts a screenplay by Clifford Odets and is the only film New York theater legend Harold Clurman ever directed. It got my attention with an opening shot of a sleeping woman's face...and the fly crawling over it...Bill Williams stars as a corn-fed sailor on shore leave who may be guilty of murder and has only till dawn to clear himself. Susan Hayward plays the taxi dancer who helps him out and Paul Lukas is their cabbie sidekick. While quirky dialogue and various red herrings pique interest, it's primarily evocative cinematography (Nicholas Musuraca) and Susan Hayward's vibrant performance that keep things moving.

Backfire stars Gordon MacRae before he rose to film stardom in a pair of Rogers and Hammerstein musicals. It features two future Oscar winners, Edmond O'Brien and Ed Begley, plus Virginia Mayo - this time as a good girl, MacRae's nurse. Vincent Sherman directed and, though the film is erratic, it's enjoyable...like a carnival ride. MacRae is effective as a fresh-faced veteran who dreams of a farm of his own as he recovers in a VA hospital. When his Army buddy (O'Brien) disappears and is implicated in a murder, he sets out to clear his pal's name. The flashback-driven story twists and turns and, oddly, the final plot twist may be given away by images on the product package and DVD. Also starring Viveca Lindfors and Dane Clark. Noteworthy original music by Daniele Amfitheatrof who scored Max Ophuls' legendary Letter From an Unknown Woman (1948).

From 2004 - 2007, Warner Home Video released a film noir collection every July, like clockwork. Then nothing...for three years. It's not surprising, then, that Film Noir Classic Collection, Volume 5 is being greeted with much fanfare. We, the classic film loving people, must have our noir!

There are two must-see films in this collection, Anthony Mann's Desperate and Richard Fleischer's Armored Car Robbery. Also worthy are Edward Dmytryk's Cornered and Harold Clurman's Deadline at Dawn. Vincent Sherman's Backfire goes off the rails but has enough B-star power and plot packed into it to keep it entertaining. Once the news story and interviews end, Phil Karlson's The Phenix City Story begins to build. It's violent, but fascinating. A historical footnote adds interest: After the candidate (John McIntyre) was murdered, his son (Richard Kiley) ran for Attorney General of Alabama in his place. The son, John Patterson, won and went on to become Alabama's youngest governor.

(available on DVD and Blu-ray)

The Narrow Margin is a Fast Train Ride

The tagline to The Narrow Margin states: “That Bullet’s Meant for Me.” And believe me, that is the truth for the unfortunate Mrs. Neall. The Narrow Margin is a film noir made in 1952 and directed by Richard Fleischer. Fleischer directed several film noir movies which made him famous such as: The Bodyguard (1948), Follow Me Quietly (1949) and Armored Car Robbery (1950). The Narrow Margin is one of his best thrillers.

Walter Brown (Charles McGraw) is a policeman assigned to protect a dead mobster’s wife. Mrs. Neall (Marie Windsor) has agreed to testify before a grand jury. Needless to say, her dead husband’s friends do not want this to happen. She becomes a target and two men are hired to murder her. She is being hidden in a hotel and will be transported by train from Chicago to Los Angeles. Brown shows his contempt for the mobster’s wife by describing her to his partner as: “The sixty cent special--cheap, flashy, strickly poison under the gravy” (I love that line). Unfortunately, Mrs. Neall is indeed rude, dressed cheaply and irritating. As Brown and his partner are escorting her the hotel room, the beads from her necklace break and some fall down the stairs. Two beads land right beside the killer’s feet as he waits at the end of the stairs in the darkness. Brown’s partner goes down the stairs first and is shot and killed. Now it is left up to Brown to get her safely to the train station and on the train.

Mrs. Neall panics in the taxi and tells Brown he’d better be good protecting her because her life definitely depends on him. When they arrive at the station, Brown realizes they have been followed by two mobsters sent to silence the witness. One of the mobsters even tries to bribe Brown, who refuses to let him have Mrs. Neall. Brown successfully hides her in a train compartment without the two mobsters knowing which one. Mrs. Neall is so annoying. She is rude to Brown, flirts with her, and constantly complains. He leaves her to go to the dining car to bring her breakfast when he meets a pretty blonde woman named Ann Sinclair. On his way back to the compartment, he also runs into a woman with a wildly imaginative son. The little boy sees Brown’s gun under his jacket and yells it to anyone within shouting distance. Brown gets around the boy only to be confronted by a fat man who blocks his way. The fat man complains that no one likes a large man on a train and Brown hurriedly gets around him. It turns out that everyone Brown has confronted on the train has secrets he doesn’t know about. The rest of the movie moves swiftly to the ending where, of course, the mobsters try to kill Mrs. Neall.

The film is only 71 minutes and is quickly paced. That is a good thing too because movies on trains can be very boring in such a confined setting. The Narrow Margin is not boring at all because the taunt action, snappy dialogue, and the many twists with the characters keep the movie fast-paced and interesting. I kept wondering how Brown was ever going to outsmart the mobsters and save Mrs. Neall’s life. The screenplay is well-written and the tight direction makes this movie a great film noir. The Narrow Margin was remade as Narrow Margin in 1990 starring Gene Hackman and Anne Archer, which is a good, fast-paced film that's also well worth watching.

The Narrow Margin was shot in only 13 days. The only scene filmed near a train was the arrival scene in the movie. The rest of the movie was filmed on a set. Fleischer used a hand held camera to film the actors going from one compartment of the train into another one, which was a unique idea at the time. The train set was nailed to the floor and Fleischer’s use of the hand held camera made the train appear to move with a rocking motion. The Narrow Margin was filmed in 1950 but not released until 1952. Howard Hughes, then owner of RKO Pictures, had a copy of the film sent to him to view in his private screening room. Hughes thought the movie had a lot of potential and considered making it into a higher class film by editing and even reshooting some of the scenes. Hughes kept the film for a year.

Star Charles McGraw was known for portraying hard-boiled law officers or military leaders in films like Fleischer's Armored Car Robbery (1950). He played the naval commander in The Bridges of Toko-Ri with William Holden. His most famous role may be as the gladiator trainer in Spartacus (1960). He died in a freaky accident at the age of 66 in 1980. He slipped and fell through a glass shower door in his own home.

Marie Windsor, who trained as a stage actress, plays Mrs. Neall. She starred in mostly "B" films, with her most most well-known being the manipulative wife in Stanley Kubrick's The Killing (1956). Jacqueline White, who portrays Ann Sinclair, only made 25 films. This is her most famous "B" picture. However, she did make one "A" picture movie called Crossfire (1947), directed by film noir veteran Edward Dymtryk.

Director Richard Fleischer is the son of the famous animator and producer, Max Fleischer. Richard began his film career directing animated shorts produced by his father such as Popeye and Superman. Walt Disney, who was once his father’s rival as a cartoon producer, asked Richard to direct 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea (which was written by The Narrow Margin's screenwriter Earl Felton). Fleischer won an Oscar in 1948 for a documentary entitled Design for Death which he co-wrote with Theodor Geisel who later became better known as Dr. Seuss. Later in his career, Fleischer directed many different kinds of films such as the action movie Mr. Majestyk (1974) starring one of my favorite actors, Charles Bronson and The Vikings (1958). Then he turned his talents to making movies about famous serial killers such as: Compulsion (1959), The Boston Strangler (1968) and 10 Rillington Place (1971). He also helmed one of my favorite “guilty pleasure” films, Conan the Destroyer with Arnold Schwarzenegger (1984). Other notable movies he directed were Barabbas (1961), Fantastic Voyage (1966) and Dr. Dolittle (1967).