So these are the four movies I saw in the last two weeks of February. Some nifty old flicks in here!
(r) = repeat viewing
Double Indemnity (1944) (r) – The quintessential film noir, Double Indemnity is without a doubt one of my all-time favorite flicks. I’ve seen it many times, of course, and I’m sure I’ll watch it many more. Everything about this tightly-wound trek into darkness is top-notch. Billy Wilder’s evocative direction makes the most of every noir trope, from the venetian-blind shadows trapping the characters in space to the iconic shots of Barbara Stanwyck’s Phyllis Deitrichson and her anklet descending the stairs. The script was penned by Wilder and legendary crime author Raymond Chandler, and delivers tons of snappy, back-and-forth patter and memorable lines. “I wonder if I know what you mean, Mr. Neff.” “I wonder if you wonder.” Fred MacMurray is perfect as insurance agent Walter Neff, turning in a performance full of slow-burning dread at what he’s gotten himself into. And Stanwyck’s portrayal of scheming femme fatale Deitrichson is probably the most celebrated in all of noir. Despite the character’s reputation as the ultimate femme fatale, this time out I really noticed how much it’s actually Neff who drives the murderous action. He’s the one who initially brings up murder, and he’s the one who ends up planning and carrying out the killing. He also admits that he’d been thinking of committing the perfect murder for years, and felt that Phyllis’ knock on his door was his chance to make it a reality. And as soon as the chips are down, he’s the one who decides to bump off Phyllis and pin the blame on a patsy. Could this flick be the prime example of the “unreliable narrator” that noir is famous for? The entire story is told from Neff’s point of view, and although he claims he’s delivering a “confession,” he ends up shifting most of the blame onto Phyllis. Whether you believe Neff’s side of the story or not, Double Indemnity is a fantastic tale of greed, lust, and murder, and is certainly one of the all-time great films in any genre. If you haven’t seen it yet, you should. If you have seen it, watch it again!
The File on Thelma Jordon (1950) – Riding a Barbara Stanwyck high from Double Indemnity, and spurred on by glowing reports in a film noir history I’m reading, I checked out this decidedly b-grade thriller from director Robert Siodmak. Contrary to those reports, though, Jordon is really not very good. It tells a pretty familiar noir story, with Stanwyck as the femme fatale who leads Assistant D.A. Wendell Corey into a snare of lust and murder. For me, the heart of the flick’s problems lie in Corey’s distinctly unlikeable protagonist. He’s introduced to us in the very first scene of the movie as a man who gets blind drunk on the afternoon of an anniversary party his long-suffering wife has been planning. He then refuses to speak to her on the phone, blows off the party, and proceeds to drunkenly stalk/hit on Stanwyck when she comes into the D.A.’s office looking for help. Throughout the flick, he treats his seemingly blameless wife terribly, while carrying on a “torrid” affair with Stanwyck right under her nose. The guy is so thoroughly horrible and creepy from the start that it’s really hard to have any sympathy for him as he finds himself caught up in a possible murder. It’s also impossible to believe that Stanwyck has any real attraction to this lout as he stumbles and angrily mutters his way through their first encounter. Corey’s flat performance and the palpable lack of chemistry between the leads makes the whole thing fall flat. The flick takes a semi-interesting turn when Corey’s character is put in charge of prosecuting Stanwyck, the woman he’s having an affair with, for murder. His obvious attempts to sandbag the case are kind of funny, as he begins his opening statements by berating the jury. “Death! You all agreed that you believe in the death penalty! Well, get ready to put aside all compassion or religious convictions, because you are going to sentence that woman right there to die!” We then get twenty minutes of courtroom drama. Take a pass on this one.
Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981) (r) – About time my son saw this one, so we checked this out one Saturday night. Obviously, I’ve seen this flick many times, although not for a pretty long time. It was nice to revisit Indy’s archeological exploits again, although at this remove I must say that some of the seams were showing. Harrison Ford’s iconic adventurer is always fun to watch, but his character is actually surprisingly underwritten. Indy only has a handful of non-action scenes, and most of those are flirty banter bits with Karen Allen’s “spunky” Marion. But what can you really say about Indiana Jones at the end of this film? He knows a lot about archeology. He is brave. He likes Marion. He doesn’t like snakes. He can ride on top of a submarine for hundreds of miles. Pretty thin basis for such an iconic character, but Ford manages to sells it through sheer brazen charisma. You feel like you know who Indy is because Ford brings such a lived-in feel to the role, even when he’s not really saying anything. That aside, Raiders is certainly still plenty of fun to watch, from the opening jungle cave sequence to the famous Indy/Nazi car chase. Knowing what I do now about the kind of imaginative mayhem that was going in on Hong Kong at the same time, I found that Spielberg’s action sequences felt much less impressive than they did back in the day. The car chase here is good fun and all, but it can’t compare to the kinds of stuff Jackie Chan was doing in the early 80s. I’m probably sounding a bit too negative about what is surely one of the great Hollywood adventure flicks, though. My son said, “That was a good movie!” and that’s good enough for me.
Gilda (1946) (r) – My noir jag continues, this time with one of the absolute strangest entries into the genre. Gilda tells the story of a small-time Buenos Aires grifter named Johnny (Glenn Ford) who gets swept up into the world of his mentor? benefactor? boss? lover?? Ballin Mundson. Johnny is quickly put in charge of Mundson’s casino and everything seems hunky-dory. Until, that is, Mundson returns from a trip abroad with a wife! Johnny’s none too pleased by the notion of Mundson with a woman, but he really loses it when he discovers that the woman is none other than his own old flame Gilda. The title role is played by (for my money) the sexiest movie star ever, Rita Hayworth. In her role as the misunderstood femme fatale, Hayworth delivers some of the great lines in noir history, including one of the all-time best entrances. Upon introducing her to Johnny, Mundson asks, “Are you decent?” Hayworth tosses her hair over her shoulder and laughs, “Me?” So great. My personal favorite comes later, when Gilda is falling all over Johnny during a sexy dance at Carnival. He barks, “What are you trying to do?” As she grinds against him, Hayworth answers, “I’m not even trying very hard. . . but I’m doing it.” As Ford and Hayworth stalk around each other, a plot about fake deaths and tungsten monopolies bubbles along in the background. The heart of Gilda, though, is the love/hate relationship between Johnny and Gilda.
Back in film school days, I had a noir class taught by a militant lesbian feminist who maintained that every noir flick was nothing but gay subtext. I found lots of her assertions off the wall – I don’t really buy that Neff and Keyes were having an affair in Double Indemnity – but I defy you to watch Gilda and come away with any impression other than that Glenn Ford’s Johnny is in love with his benefactor Mundson. Mundson certainly has some kind of psychosexual hold over him. The dialogue between the two men is dripping with subtext, as they constantly refer back to Mundson’s big black walking stick as their “little friend.” Throughout the flick, Johnny is much more worried about Mundson’s feelings than Gilda’s. At one point, he breaks off a heated bedroom kiss with Gilda to chase down Mundson and make sure his feelings weren’t hurt. I know he’s devoted to his boss, but no straight man would run out on a night with Rita Hayworth for him. Well, no sane straight man. Gilda‘s a pretty entertaining slice of noir, despite a preposterously neat and tidy ending that wraps things up a little too quickly and too well. Mostly, it stands as one of Hayworth’s best and most iconic outings ever, which is more than enough reason to watch.
Great fun as usual!
Jeff