The Case for Anatomy of a Murder

Stewart as Biegler pleads his case.

Anatomy of a Murder is the best courtroom drama ever made.

Otto Preminger’s enthralling motion picture requires multiple viewings to be fully appreciated. When I first saw it, I focused on the riveting story, which treats the viewer much like the jury. We listen to testimonies, watch the lawyers try to manipulate our emotions, and struggle to make sense of the evidence. When I saw Anatomy of a Murder a second time, I knew the case’s outcome and was to able to concentrate on the splendid performances. James Stewart, Arthur O’Connell, and George C. Scott earned Oscar nominations, but the rest of the cast is also exceptionally strong. In subsequent viewings, I’ve come to appreciate the film’s well-preserved details, from the small town upper-Michigan atmosphere to Preminger’s brilliant direction (e.g., in one shot, as Scott's prosecutor cross-examines a witness in close-up, Stewart—the defending lawyer—is framed between them in the background).

Lee Remick and George C. Scott.

The opening scenes quickly establish Stewart’s shrewd lawyer. After ten years as Iron City’s public prosecutor, Paul Biegler has lost his office and gone into private practice. He’s also lost his passion for the law—he spends most of his time fishing, playing the piano, smoking Italian cigars, and reading old cases with his elderly, alcoholic friend Parnell Emmett McCarthy (O’Connell). His life takes a dramatic turn when he eventually agrees to defend Lieutenant Frederick Manion (Ben Gazzara), who is being tried for the murder of a man who may have raped Manion’s wife Laura (Lee Remick). Manion doesn’t deny killing the man, whom he shot five times. His lack of remorse, his wife Laura’s open sexuality, and the couple’s coldness toward one another tip the scales against them from the start.

Perhaps, it’s those very drawbacks that attract Biegler to the case. With a newly sober McCarthy assisting him, Biegler builds his defense around an old Michigan case in which a man was acquitted of murder because he acted out of “irresistible impulse.” As a psychiatrist (Orson Bean in a great bit part )  explains on the stand, it didn’t matter if Manion knew the difference between right and wrong. He was compelled to act (in the words of another witness, he was a “like a mailman delivering the mail”).

Saul Bass's opening credits as justly famous.

Once the drama shifts to the courtroom, an already-engrossing story seems to shift into a higher gear. The sparring between Stewart and Scott, as an ambitious assistant state attorney, is played to perfection. Remick has a splendid scene as Scott interrogates her on the witness stand. Joseph Welch provides welcome dry humor as the judge, who seems more like a referee trying to keep two fighters from killing each other. Interestingly, Welch was a former Army lawyer who participated in the McCarthy hearings; his real-life wife also appears in Anatomy as one of the jurors.

At the time of its release, Anatomy of a Murder was quite controversial, much of it stemming from the frank discussion of the crime. Preminger seemed to relish in breaking barriers on film content. His sex comedy The Moon Is Blue (1953) shocked audiences with its plot about older men (David Niven and William Holden) pursuing a young virgin. Preminger’s The Man With the Golden Arm (1955) was one of the first mainstream films about drug addiction.

Our favorite Preminger works are the film noir classic Laura (1944), Bunny Lake Is Missing (1965), and, of course, this one. You may disagree with me on whether it's the finest courtroom drama, but I'm not alone in my assessment. Back in 2021, I interviewed Michael Asimow, a professor at the Santa Clara Law School and co-author of Real to Reel: Truth and Trickery in Courtroom Movies. When I asked him what film did the best job of presenting a case realistically, he replied: "Our all-time favorite is Anatomy of a Murder. Almost all of it is a gripping murder trial, with two great lawyers going after each other, full of twists and turns and with an ambiguous ending. Watch this movie—you’ll be amazed at how good it is."

There's a Spy in Stalag 17

William Holden as Sefton.

Considering it was made by one of Hollywood's most versatile directors, it's no surprise that Billy Wilder's Stalag 17 flows back and forth effortlessly between drama and comedy. Set in a German prisoner of war camp during World War II, the dramatic storyline focuses on a barracks in the midst of a streak of bad luck. The camp's commandant seems to know everything that happens among the prisoners--culminating in an ill-fated escape in which two American soldiers are gunned down.

The barracks' residents conclude there must be an informant hiding among them and their chief suspect is a wheeler-dealer named Sefton (William Holden). Sefton is determined to make his stay in Stalag 17 as comfortable as possible. He barters with his German captors and profits off his fellow prisoners by running gambling games (e.g., mice races) and selling moonshine (from his own still). None of his fellow soldiers like Sefton, except for the quiet Cookie, who functions as his assistant (and also serves as the film's narrator).

Convinced that Sefton is the barracks' spy, his fellow prisoners beat him severely. Proclaiming his innocence, Sefton warns the others that he will uncover the informant and seek retribution.

Made in 1953, Stalag 17 was based on the 1951 stage play written by Donald Bevan and Edmund Trzcinski, who both spent time in a World War II prisoner of war camp. Jose Ferrer directed the stage version, which starred John Ericson (in his Broadway debut) as Sefton. Two members of the supporting cast, Harvey Lembeck and Robert Strauss, repeated their roles for the film version.

Harvey Lembeck and Robert Strauss.

Lembeck and Strauss provide most of the film's comedic scenes. Strauss portrays Stanislas "Animal" Kuzawa, whose obsession with Betty Grable leaves him perpetually depressed (except when there's an opportunity to spy on Russian female prisoners). Shapiro tries keep up his buddy's morale, although he's self-centered enough to let Animal think letters from a creditor are from Shapiro's lady admirers back home. Both roles border on stereotypes, so it's a credit to Strauss and especially Lembeck that they make these characters believable and amusing. Strauss earned an Academy Award nomination for Best Supporting Actor.

Holden with Gil Stratton
as "Cookie."

Billy Wilder always brought out the best in William Holden, who gives a gritty performance as Sefton, There's no attempt to whitewash the character. Sefton's only explanation for his opportunist ways is that within a week of his arrival at Stalag 17, his Red Cross package, blanket, and left shoe were stolen. Sefton is a loner; he has no friends and no interest in making them. He isn't even particularly nice to Cookie, though he prefers him to the other barracks residents. Holden won a Best Actor Oscar for his performance, though supposedly he thought it was atonement for not winning in 1951 for Sunset Boulevard (ironically Jose Ferrer won that year for Cyrano de Bergerac).

Having seen Stalag 17 multiple times, the most interesting element this time around was the group dynamics. Fueled by guilt over their comrades' deaths, the barracks residents need to uncover the informant. Therefore, they hone in on the person they don't like. There is no evidence against Sefton--other than he already barters with their German captors (which would be stupid for an informant). The barracks' leader doesn't even give Sefton an opportunity to defend himself in a mock trial. A sort of mob mentality takes over, with Sefton branded as guilty and duly punished. (For this reason, Sefton's very last interaction with his fellow soldiers, near the end of the film, doesn't ring true.)

Peter Grave as a prisoner.

Many members of the supporting cast went on to greater fame. Peter Graves worked steadily in film and television before becoming a star with Mission: Impossible and later Airplane! Harvey Lembeck played Phil Silvers' sidekick on the popular Phil Silvers Show (Sgt. Bilko) and later portrayed Eric Von Zipper in several Beach Party movies. Neville Brand played heavies in many films and TV shows before becoming a good guy in the TV series Laredo. And Stalag 17 playwright Donald Bevan gained additional fame as one of Sardi's in-house caricaturists for many years.

Finally, less we forget, the TV series Hogan's Heroes borrowed liberally from Stalag 17, although the tone was decidedly different. Indeed, Donald Bevan and Edmund Trzcinski tried to sue the show's makers, but their lawsuit was unsuccessful.

Here's a scene from Stalag 17, courtesy of the Cafe's YouTube Channel:

David Niven Says Bonjour Tristesse to Deborah Kerr

Jean Seberg and David Niven.

Seventeen-year-old Cecile and her wealthy, widower father split their time between Paris and the French Riveria. Their goal in life is to have fun. The middle-aged Raymond (David Niven) woos young attractive women, keeps them around for a few months, and then discards them. Cecile (Jean Seberg) likes the company of handsome, young men, but she also has no intent of fostering a relationship. Why should she? She has her father and that is all she needs.

Their world gets turned upside down when Raymond invites Anne, a friend of Cecile's deceased mother, for an extended visit at their coastal summer home. Anne (Deborah Kerr) is a strong, self-assured woman with a successful career as a fashion designer. She resists Raymond's obvious charms, which only makes her more attractive to him. Cecile quickly develops a love-hate relationship with Anne, who provides stability in the midst of the "fun first" chaos.

Jean Seberg as Cecile.

Everything changes again when Raymond falls in love with Anne and proposes marriage. Cecile decides that the nuptials cannot take place and develops an elaborate scheme to break up Raymond and Anne. Her actions set into motion an inevitable tragedy.

Author Francoise Sagan was nineteen-years-old when she wrote the then-scandalous novel Bonjour Tristesse in 1954. It quickly became a bestseller and attracted the attention of Otto Preminger. The famed director had completed Saint Joan, an adaptation of George Bernard Shaw's play about Joan of Arc, in 1957. The picture and its star, an unknown named Jean Seberg, had been skewered by the critics.

One suspects that the controversial subject matter of Bonjour 
Tristesse--the film vaguely hints at an incestuous father-daughter relationship--drew Preminger's interest. After all, he never shied away from controversy in films like The Moon Is Blue, The Man With the Golden Arm, and the later Anatomy of a Murder. The challenge with the film version of Bonjour Tristesse (1958) is that, despite two classy leads, a beautiful setting, and plenty of style, the story and characters are simply too shallow.

David Niven as Raymond.

As played by Jean Seberg, Cecile is a petulant brat and her father lacks any parenting skills. When Anne tells Cecile to study for her exams, the latter pouts and appeals to her father. He takes the easy way out by siding with Anne. From that point on, Cecile spends all her time plotting an exit for Anne.

Preminger frames the film so that Cecile tells the story in flashback as she reflects on the emptiness of her and Raymond's lives. To emphasize the impending tragedy, the "current day" scenes are shown in harsh black & white while the flashbacks with Anne are in color, apparently signaling happier times.

Deborah Ker as Anne.

Deborah Kerr gives the best performance by virtue of having the most interesting role. Anne is a character to be admired for being practical while surrounded by a sea of frivolity. However, at the same time, she is not wholly likable and is quick to jump at conclusions. When she sees Cecile and her boyfriend passionately kissing, her reaction is to ban Cecile from seeing the young man.

While Bonjour Tristesse flopped at the box office, all the principals recovered nicely. Preminger made Anatomy of a Murder--arguably his best film--in 1959. David Niven won an Best Actor Oscar for Separate Tables that same year. Deborah Kerr co-starred with Cary Grant in one of her most famous pictures, An Affair to Remember, in 1957. And Jean Seberg became a French icon with her performance in Jean-Luc Godard's New Wave masterpiece Breathless in 1960.

For the record, Bonjour Tristesse translates to "hello sadness." Juliette Greco warbles a woeful, depressing song of the same title during one of the opening scenes.

Preminger Takes an Insider's Look at Politics in Advise & Consent

Like The Day the Earth Stood Still, Advise & Consent is one of those rare films whose themes never seem to age. Even its plot has held up remarkably well. When I watched it a few years ago, President George W. Bush was encountering opposition from the Senate—and his own party—on the appointment of Robert Bolton as United Nations ambassador. In Advise & Consent, the President (his name is never given) clashes with the Senate and his own party on his nomination of a liberal academic to become Secretary of State.

Fonda as the President's pick.

His nominee Robert Leffingwell (Henry Fonda) isn’t even sure he wants the job at first. But the President (Franchot Tone), whose ailing health threatens the future of his policies, remains steadfast in his choice. Even a potentially scandalous secret from Leffington’s past can’t convince the Commander in Chief to alter his position. The President’s unyielding stance sets into motion a political chess match in which Senators take sides and people become pawns. (The chess analogy is an interesting one: Walter Pidgeon, who fights for Leffingwell, wears a dark suit; Charles Laughton, who opposes him, wears white).

Laughton on the Senate's floor.

The characters come alive courtesy of an exceptional cast: Laughton as the curmudgeonly senior senator from South Carolina; Pidgeon as the President’s right-hand man; Don Murray as a bright well-intentioned junior senator with his own secret; George Grizzard as an overly ambitious right-winger; Peter Lawford as a team player who finally sees through the hypocrisy; and Lew Ayres as an ignored vice president who may be stronger than people think.

My favorite aspect of the film, though, is its “behind the scenes” look at Washington politics. A powerful senator, not selected for a subcommittee, pulls strings so he can influence a hearing as an “observer.” Strategists project votes to determine when they think they have enough to make their move. An ambitious junior senator campaigns to be selected as a committee chair. There are subtle threats of blackmail and not-so-subtle ones. Allen Drury, who wrote the Pulitzer Prize-winning bestseller on which the film was based, spent several years as a political reporter. His insider look is revealing and engrossing.

Pidgeon and Gene Tierney,
Preminger's Laura.

I'm often surprised that director Otto Preminger is mentioned so rarely in conversations about great directors. It may have to do with his versatility. Many of the great filmmakers are associated with certain types of films, such as Hitchcock and suspense, Ford and Westerns, and Lubitsch and comedy. But Preminger, like Billy Wilder, could make a movie about anything: film noir (Laura); comedy (The Moon Is Blue); social drama (The Man With the Golden Arm); courtroom drama (Anatomy of a Murder); or suspense (Bunny Lake Is Missing). His direction is subtle and flawless in Advise & Consent, inconspicuously moving along the dialogue-driven plot.

The 1960s were a banner decade for political dramas. The Best Man (1964), about two men seeking their party’s presidential nomination, is a fine companion piece to Advise & Consent (interestingly, it also shares a key subplot and also stars Henry Fonda). And though it’s more of a thriller, Seven Days in May (1964) provides a sharp portrait of a president facing a leadership crisis. All three films hold up amazingly well today and come highly recommended.

Bunny Lake Is Missing...or is she?

Unable to find a teacher at The Little People’s Garden school, Annie Lake (Carol Lynley) asks the cook to watch over her four-year daughter Bunny. Annie explains that Bunny’s in the “First Day” room awaiting her teacher. Annie, an American recently moved to London, then rushes to her new home to meet the movers.

Olivier as Inspector Newhouse.

When Annie returns to the school, she can’t find Bunny—and no one remembers the little girl. After Annie and her brother Steven (Keir Dulla) search the grounds to no avail, they contact the police. Inspector Newhouse (Laurence Olivier) follows the routine protocol for finding missing children—but he soon realizes nothing is routine about the case. Most distressingly, he learns that, except for Annie and Steven, no one has seen Bunny. All of Bunny’s belongings are missing. There are no photographs of her. There is no proof that the little girl actually exists.

Lynley and Keir Dullea as Steven.

Director Otto Preminger’s last great film surprisingly recalls his first classic, Laura. Both films begin as conventional crime dramas dealing with kidnapping or murder. But an unexpected plot twist takes each film in a different direction. In Laura, the twist hits quickly and unexpectedly. In Bunny Lake Is Missing, it unravels slowly throughout the film. Watch the movie carefully (it warrants a second viewing after you know the plot) and you’ll see that really there’s no twist at all. Granted, Preminger is selective about what he shows the viewer, but he still plays fair.

Noel Coward and companion as a

too-friendly neighbor.

Much of the film’s effect can be attributed to the unusual suspects in Bunny’s alleged kidnapping or murder. There’s the creepy neighbor (Noel Coward), a middle-aged lecher who hits on Annie as she frets over her missing child. There’s the old lady in the apartment over the school who tapes children describing their nightmares. And finally, there are Annie and Steven, whose extremely close relationship seems more like a married couple than sister and brother.

Carol Lynley gaves a carefully nuanced performance, making us believe that she could be psychologically unbalanced or just distraught over the fate of her daughter. Keir Dullea brings a nice ambiguity to the brother, making it unclear whether he’s defending his sister or setting her up. That leaves it to Olivier to ground the film in normalcy and he does a fine job by making Inspector Newhouse a workman-like professional willing to consider all possibilities.

As with most Preminger films, the production values are flawless. Paul Glass’s evocative music score seamlessly transitions from playful to disturbing. And Saul Bass contributes another memorable title sequence with a hand tearing away black paper to reveal the film’s credits pieces by piece.

Was there a better title designer than Saul Bass?

I first saw Bunny Lake Is Missing on TV with my sister. Neither of us had heard of it and we were mesmerized from start to finish. I have subsequently watched it with my wife, nephews, and friends. I’ve never met anyone who didn’t find it intriguing, which makes me wonder why it’s never acquired a better reputation.

Rick29 and Sark on Otto Preminger's Angel Face (1952)

Rick29 and Sarkoffagus, film buffs from different generations, discuss Otto Preminger’s Angel Face this month.

Plot Synoposis: Jean Simmons stars as Diane Tremayne, a young woman who idolizes her once-famous father Charles (Herbert Marshall) and despises her wealthy stepmother Catherine (Barbara O’Neil). When Catherine almost dies in her sleep from an apparent mishap with a gas fireplace, Diane meets ambulance driver Frank Jessup (Robert Mitchum). The two “accidentally” meet again later and, even though Frank has a girlfriend, sparks fly between Diane and him. Is it love or does Diane have ulterior motives?

Spoiler Alert! The following dialogue between Sark and Rick29 assumes you’ve seen the movie and reveals much of the plot.
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Rick29: I thought Angel Face was second-tier Preminger, certainly not in the same class as Laura, Anatomy of a Murder, or Bunny Lake Is Missing. However, it has its virtues and I can see why it intrigued me when I saw it thirtysome years ago. It still boasts one of my favorite movie endings.

Sark: First of all, it seems that we're in near complete agreement over this film. The three Otto films you mentioned are indeed superior films, but Angel Face has its moments. I agree wholeheartedly about Jean Simmons' casting. She's pretty, but I suspect Diane was intended to be a knock-out beauty. She says near the beginning that she's 19 (nearly 20). Jean looks much older, certainly not aged (she would've been in her early 20s at the time of filming), but more mature. Maybe that was the point, that Diane was more experienced than most women her age, or at least not as naive. But I kept having to remind myself that she was merely 20.

Rick29: When I originally saw the film, I remember being stunned with the ending. But watching Angel Face this time around, Diane's intentions seem clear from the lengthy montage where she walks around the house and ends up sleeping in Frank's jacket. Either Frank will have her or neither of them will have anyone. I don't believe she intended to drive off the precipice when they both got in her car...but I am convinced it was in the back of her mind. And when Frank snaps at her (I love the look she gives it), she makes a quick decision...which really had been lingering for awhile.

Sark: When Frank poses this question to Diane: "How stupid do you think I am?" I’d have to say pretty damn stupid. As you stated, it's incredibly obvious that Diane is playing Frank from the start, and consequently, Frank comes across as a putz. Sure, he was smart enough to try to keep his distance after the trial. But getting in a car with a woman who he knows rigged a car to murder her stepmother? I knew Frank was a goner long before he did.

Rick29: I wish we would have learned a little more about Catherine. Obviously, she was aware of her husband's flaws, but still loved him. I really liked that Diane finally comes to realize that—unfortunately, after she has killed her stepmom and father. The undefined coolness between Catherine and Diane is nicely developed, but a few more scenes between them would have made the movie stronger in my opinion.

Sark: Yes, we could've seen more of the stepmother and -- as you said -- more between her and Diane. I thought many of the supporting characters were more interesting than Frank and Diane. I was actually more intrigued by Ito and Chio, and sadly, I didn't care for the two main players. I truly felt nothing as they both crashed to their death, not sorrow, depression, anger, not even sympathy. Bill –Frank's former co-worker who steps in as Mary's beau –was a flat character, as was Mary herself. Their relationship seemed rather pathetic. They looked ridiculous together at the end, but that may have to do with the tepid performances from both actors. Bill asks Frank what he saw in Diane. Well, what did Bill see in Mary? She's boring. I can't understand why Frank tried to go back to her after the trial, except maybe out of guilt. Perhaps he just wanted to make sure Mary was okay and happy.

Rick29: I've always been a Jean Simmons fan. She eventually developed a screen elegance that few other actresses possessed (though Deborah Kerr still ranks No. in elegance). Jean gives a nicely nuanced performance, even though I agree with you that the script was written with more of a young beauty in mind. Jean is attractive, but I wouldn't call her stunning. In fact, in the scene in the car where Diane first kisses Frank, she comes across as a playful school girl. But she does make Diane consistently interesting and, in the end, I truly believe that Diane felt a combination of remorse and guilt about the murders. I think Mitchum was fine as Frank, but I don't think it was a challenging role for him. Really, Frank was just an ambitious guy who wasn't sure what he wanted. He wants Mary, but dumps her for Diane. He starts to return to Mary, but stays with Diane. After the trial, he tries to go back to Mary. Make up your mind, dude!

Sark: I don't know Jean Simmons' movies very well, but I thought she was good in Angel Face, in spite of the apparent miscasting. As you know, I'm a fan of Robert Mitchum, and he was adequate but not exceptional. I blame the script. He was a laid back gent in the beginning, but by the end, he had little to do. Was he depressed? Did he truly intend to divorce Diane? Was he genuinely leaving or waiting for her to return? Did he suspect he would be killed? I think these are legitimate inquiries considering the story, but none are addressed in even the most subtle manner.

Rick29: I think the film's biggest flaw is that Diane and Frank have nothing to do for whole trial sequence. Instead, we get lawyers played by Mr. Howell from "Gilligan's Island" and the Colonel from "Mister Ed." And while Jim Backus and Leon Ames are good supporting players, they aren't dynamic performers and the trial came across as boring. Then the story limps along to its conclusion...but, hey, I still love that final shot of the car flying down the hill.

Sark: Once again agreeing with you, the trial was probably the worst part of the film. It nearly killed the plot. How did marrying one another garner sympathy? And were jurors allowed to pose questions to witnesses? That was strange. I thought both shots of the cars crashing were excellent. That cliff didn't look very steep, but based on the results, I guess speeding in reverse and going over was a deadly feat.
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That's our assessment of Angel Face, but we always like to hear other opinions!