Noirvember II #5 – Kiss of Death (1947)

Kiss of Death (1947)
Directed by: Henry Hathaway
Written by: Ben Hecht, Charles Lederer, Eleazar Lipsky (story)
Starring: Victor Mature, Brian Donlevy, Coleen Gray, Richard Widmark

Our last Noirvember feature, Henry Hathaway’s Call Northside 777, inspired me to check out another of the director’s more famous noir works.  Made just one year before the release of Call Northside, 1947’s Kiss of Death is arguably Hathaway’s more important contribution to film noir.  Written by the legendary Ben Hecht and Charles Lederer, Kiss of Death diverts slightly from the usual tropes of the genre – but still features enough elements to be seen as a significant and important effort.  Shot almost entirely on location (much like Call Northside 777), and with narration by Coleen Gray, Kiss of Death feels less documentary-like than Hathaway’s next film, but the groundwork is certainly there.  While not a significant box office or critical success at the time of its initial release, Kiss of Death would slowly come to be recognized as one of the unsung greats of film noir.  It’s since been made famous and praised for its neo realistic feel – largely in part to Hathaway shooting on location, and for Richard Widmark’s star making performance as the villainous Tommy Udo.  The film was nominated for two Academy Awards in 1948 – Best Supporting Actor for Richard Widmark, and a Best Original Story nomination for Eleazar Lipsky.

Kiss of Death stars Victor Mature (My Darling Clementine) as Nick Bianco, a desperate man who lands himself in prison after a jewelry store robbery gone wrong.  Being the only one caught, Bianco is persuaded by the District Attorney Louis D’Angelo (Brian Donlevy) to name names in exchange for a shorter sentence – to which he declines and receives a twenty year sentence.  Prior to this, Bianco meets a sinister man by the name of Tommy Udo (Richard Widmark).  After learning of the rape of his wife committed by his former partner Pete Rizzo, his wife’s eventual suicide, and the transfer of his daughters to an orphanage, Bianco makes an arrangement with the DA. He agrees to help them solve a separate case in which Rizzo was implicated, being allowed to see his daughters in exchange.  Finally out of prison, Nick meets up with Tommy Udo – also out of prison – and the two strike up a brief partnership which sees Nick gather verbal evidence about a murder Udo committed.  Bianco reports his findings to D’Angelo to get Udo locked up again, but he is later acquitted by the court – leaving the psychopathic Tommy Udo out for revenge.  Can Bianco get away from the murderous Tommy Udo, or will he become another in a long list of Udo’s victims? Find out in Henry Hathaway’s Kiss of Death!

There’s no denying that Henry Hathaway had an eye for realism, and a penchant for telling dark stories – at least with the two film noirs of his I’ve seen so far. Minor elements like shooting on location go a long way to stand out amongst the crowd, since most films of the time were still being shot on perfectly lit sound stages.  There’s something genuine about Kiss of Death, despite some of its more over-the-top elements.  It may not be the best the genre has to offer, but there’s a heck of a lot to admire about it.  The best example of this is the performance of Richard Widmark as Tommy Udo, far and away the best thing about Kiss of Death.  Widmark’s Udo is wonderfully villainous – bringing a palpable menace to the role.  It’s at times a little hammy (in a Joker sort of way), but it works in the context of the movie.  The film, shot by cinematographer Norbert Brodine, makes the city of New York feel fully alive – especially with it being almost completely shot on location.  Complementing the performances and photography is the writing by Ben Hecht and Charles Lederer, who create one of the most memorable silver screen villains of the 40’s, and manage to weave a suspenseful, captivating thriller in the process.  Unfortunately for them, censors of the time forced Hathaway to cut or change a number of scenes that were too dark in tone. These scenes would have done a lot to add to the film’s weight, and would have given our hero Nick Bianco some much needed development.

What I Liked:

• Richard Widmark’s performance here is terrific, turning Tommy Udo into one of the most menacing presences in film noir history.
• Victor Mature’s performance as Nick Bianco is quite good as well, acting as an effective counterweight to the sometimes over-the-top Widmark.
• The photography is wonderfully lit in many scenes, giving that dark, smoky feel that film noir is so famous for.
• Ben Hecht and Charles Lederer’s screenplay is quite good – creating a fully realized world, an interesting concept, and writing some truly memorable characters.
• Tommy Udo’s character gets away with some truly shocking and brutal acts – a relatively rare thing in highly censored 1940’s Hollywood.

What I Didn’t:

• The film would have had much more impact with its original ending – which is far darker in tone.
• Coleen Gray’s narration feels jarring and unnatural.  There isn’t a whole lot of it, but what’s there doesn’t work in the film’s favour.  
• Nick Bianco’s character isn’t developed well enough to truly feel for. Mature brings his A-game to the performance, but as a character I found him pretty difficult to get behind at times.  His motivations feel inconsistent, as he’s constantly shuffling between sketchy ex-crook and docile family man.

Henry Hathaway proves again with Kiss of Death that he had a terrific eye for film noir, but maybe didn’t have the skills or the budget to bring to life a true masterpiece.  His 1947 film features some very memorable elements and shocking moments, but ultimately falls short of being one of the greats.  When Kiss of Death is good, it’s very good – overcoming the production code by delivering some very brutal moments, creating a sadistic and very memorable villain, and featuring a realistic setting through its use of location photography. Henry Hathaway’s film certainly deserves a place in the film noir canon, but it just doesn’t do enough to sit with the all-time greats.  Kiss of Death is recommended.

Noirvember II #4 – Call Northside 777 (1948)

Call Northside 777 (1948)
Directed by: Henry Hathaway
Written by: Leonard Hoffman, Quentin Reynolds
Starring: James Stewart, Lee J. Cobb, Richard Conte, Helen Walker, Betty Garde

Without a doubt my favorite thing about film noir as a genre is its versatility – with the exception of usually featuring a few trademark elements, the classics of the genre are all so different in scope and size.  Henry Hathaway’s 1948 film Call Northside 777 is a perfect example of this – blending common noir elements with the structure and pacing of a procedural crime investigation. Henry Hathaway directed numerous film noirs during his career, with Call Northside being the most successful of the bunch.  Hathaway is probably most notable for directing one of Adolf Hitler’s favorite films, the Oscar-nominated The Lives of a Bengal Lancer, as well as his work with legendary tough man actor John Wayne, directing him in North to Alaska, Circus World, The Sons of Katie Elder, and his Academy Award-winning performance in 1969’s True Grit.  The legendary director’s filmography consists of more than 60 feature films, featuring some of the greatest American actors to ever live, and spanning a wide variety of genres.

Call Northside 777 stars the always charming James Stewart as P.J. McNeal, an ambitious and brash reporter for the Chicago Times.  McNeal unexpectedly becomes involved with a ten year old murder case involving a young man named Frank Wiecek (Richard Conte), who is serving 99 years in prison for the alleged murder of a Chicago police officer.  Wiecek’s mother has put up a $5,000 reward for whoever can present information about the “true” killer’s of the officer, effectively proving her son to be innocent.  After learning of the reward, McNeal’s Chicago Times editor Brian Kelly (Lee J. Cobb) quickly assigns P.J. to the case. Though McNeal believes Frank Wiecek to be guilty of the killing, the young reporter reluctantly accepts the job in order to prove himself as an investigative reporter.  Not wanting to be embarrassed or exposed by the investigation, Chicago police and state attorney’s become involved in the case – giving the skeptical McNeal more resistance than expected.  Will P.J. McNeal crack the case and prove young Frank Wiecek innocent, or will resistance from law officials prove too much for the young reporter?  Find out in Henry Hathaway’s Call Northside 777!

The addition of Call Northside 777 into this year’s Noirvember schedule was a last minute decision based entirely on two things – the film’s star, James Stewart, is one of my all-time favorite actors, and the fact that I had never seen a Henry Hathaway film.  After finding out about the movie’s procedural and investigative nature, I knew that I had made the right decision.  Call Northside 777 is nowhere near as stylistic or suspenseful as other, more-revered classics of the genre, but Hathaway’s film is a highly intriguing and graceful effort.  Northside lacks most of the trademark elements that make film noir such a captivating genre, but makes up for it with solid, uncompromising film-making, and an intriguing true story adaptation.  The procedural style of storytelling (which I have an unabashed love for) works wonders for the film’s mystery, which is small in scope but grand in its implications.  It’s often said that Hathaway never had a distinct style as a director, being known rather as something of a journeyman filmmaker. His apparent lack of a “trademark” style ultimately works in Call Northside 777’s favor – with Hathaway delivering an intriguing, concise, uncomplicated, and grounded investigation in realistic, documentary-like fashion.  James Stewart turns in a typically solid performance as P.J. McNeal, who is incredibly easy to get behind as an investigative journalist.  McNeal remains skeptical for much of the film, completing the job mostly out of obligation to his editor.  Once he’s thrown up against the resistance given by the law, he begins to question his own morals and proves that he is unafraid to go over the heads of those above him. Stewart’s performance goes against his stereotyped “golly-gee” personality, with the veteran actor instead coming off as hardened and sardonic.  All in all, Call Northside 777 isn’t a perfect film by any means, but it’s certainly quite a good one.

What I Liked:

• The opening minutes of the film are presented in an unflinching, documentary style that lays the groundwork for the film’s mystery.
• James Stewart ventures slightly out of his comfort zone, giving a rock solid performance as P.J. McNeal.  
• Henry Hathaway’s lack of a distinct style allows for the director to focus on what is most important about this film – the storytelling.
• The pacing is slow, but deliberately so.  Stewart’s McNeal follows all possible leads, reports back to his superiors multiple times, and thwarts resistance efforts by Chicago law enforcement.  Not a minute feels wasted.
• The scene in the final act with witness Wanda Skutnik (Betty Garde) adds some effective and much needed suspense to the story.

What I Didn’t:

• Lee J. Cobb’s character feels undeveloped to a fault.  At times it feels like he has ulterior motives for assigning McNeal to the case, but this point is never really clearly presented or followed up on.
• The film’s conclusion, while unique, feels a little too rushed and convenient for my liking.  
• With the convenient conclusion comes an odd and out of place tonal shift from stark and cynical to suddenly much more hopeful.

With it being a last minute addition to this month’s lineup, I couldn’t have been more surprised with my experience with Call Northside 777.  It’s no doubt a flawed film – largely due to some of its overly-convenient writing – but Henry Hathaway’s focused direction and the attention and respect paid to procedure and investigation makes this a more than worthy film noir.  James Stewart brings a good performance to the film, serving as the perfect leading man in a performance-driven piece.  It won’t ever be considered to be one of the greats of the film noir genre, but it is a solid crime film with an incredibly intriguing mystery at its core.  Henry Hathaway’s Call Northside 777 is recommended.

Noirvember II #3 – Scarlet Street (1945)

Scarlet Street (1945)
Directed by: Fritz Lang
Written by: Dudley Nichols (based on La Chienne by Georges de La Fouchardiere (novel) and Andre Mouezy-Eon (play))
Starring: Edward G. Robinson, Joan Bennett, Dan Duryea, Margaret Lindsay, Jess Barker

“Jeepers, I love you Johnny” – These five seemingly innocuous words have haunted me since my first viewing of Fritz Lang’s brilliant film noir Scarlet Street.  Coming just two years after the previously reviewed Hangmen Also Die!, Lang shows the world exactly why he is regarded as such an innovator of the genre.  Starring the prolific Edward G. Robinson as a down-on-his-luck sad sack who gets wrapped up in an apparent love triangle, Scarlet Street offers up the trademark psychological twists and turns of the film noir genre, while also serving as an intricate and complex character study.  Today, Lang’s film is hailed as one of the best films the genre has to offer, but it didn’t fare nearly as well during its initial release.  Despite being a monetary success at the box office by more than doubling its budget, some critics felt that it was cliched and unethical – definitely not the first time in the history of the medium that the consensus would vary so wildly all these years later.

Scarlet Street follows a hapless middle-aged store clerk and aspiring artist named Christopher Cross (Edward G. Robinson) as he very literally stumbles into an unrequited romance with a younger woman named Kitty (Joan Bennett).  Cross, unsatisfied with his loveless home life, is immediately smitten with the young Kitty, who sees an opportunity to easily swindle the gullible Chris.  Together with her boyfriend Johnny (Dan Duryea), the two plot to extort money from Chris, whom they foolishly believe to be a famous and well-regarded painter.  Johnny, being the bold and mischievous man he is, steals paintings from our sad sack protagonist in order to sell them to an art dealer.  Through a series of misunderstandings, Kitty is given artistic credit for the paintings after art critic David Janeway (Jess Barker) expresses interest in them.  This triggers an unforgettable and unpredictable chain of events that will forever change the lives of Chris, Kitty, Johnny, and all those around them. In typical film noir fashion, nobody gets off easy.

Fritz Lang is a director I’ve been interested in for many years now.  I’ll be the first to admit that I haven’t seen nearly enough of his films, but the ones I have seen have largely been excellent.  In my opinion, Scarlet Street stands out among classics like Metropolis and M as one of his very best.  It’s an incredibly bleak, obsessive, soul-crushing affair, but that’s where most of its charm comes from. While the story may seem contrived to some viewers, it’s one of the more focused and organic film noir’s I’ve seen.  The screenplay by Academy Award winning writer Dudley Nichols (The Informer, The Long Voyage Home, The Bells of St. Mary’s) is razor sharp, pitch black in tone, and concise.  Nichols’ focused narrative, paired with Lang’s penchant for moody, dimly lit imagery and fluid camerawork, makes for one of the most satisfying film noir experiences in the history of the genre.  Edward G. Robinson steals the show as Christopher Cross – perfectly capturing the spirit of the truly sad and pathetic character. Married to a woman who still pines for her ex-husband, stuck in an unsatisfying career, and hopelessly lusting after a beautiful young woman, it’s at times difficult to sympathize with Robinson’s character.  He very rarely sticks up for himself, letting all those around him treat him like a human doormat or a sad punchline.  He’s not particularly good at anything he does, he’s not especially charming or handsome, and yet there’s something so refreshing about the character. Edward G. Robinson’s Chris is one of the most complex, layered, and ultimately tragic characters I’ve seen in the genre yet.  It’s a shame that Scarlet Street initially opened to such a lukewarm reaction, because otherwise I would have considered it a shoe-in for a host of prestigious Academy Award nominations.

What I Liked:

• Edward G. Robinson delivers one of the most complex and powerful performances I’ve ever seen.
• Joan Bennett’s Kitty is another standout performance, mostly in how she successfully manages to convince both Chris and the audience that her intentions aren’t cruel.  She’s the perfect femme fatale.
• The repetition of specific sounds and phrases (the record player skipping, “Jeepers, I love you Johnny”) throughout the run-time creates a haunting and at times hallucinatory atmosphere.
• The film’s ending is perfectly twisted and tragic – ensuring that no single character escaped the situation unscathed.
• Dudley Nichols’ narrative felt very unique and important, despite being so small in scope.
• Rosalind Ivan’s turn as Adele Cross, Chris’ unhappy and spiteful wife, was perfectly grating and easy to hate.

What I Didn’t:

• The emergence of a subplot involving Adele Cross’ deceased ex-husband feels too convenient in the context of the film.  I don’t have a problem with the actual subplot – it’s just introduced far too late into the film.
• Dan Duryea’s performance as Johnny is slightly too ham-fisted to be a believable mastermind of the plot.  He comes off as brutish and dopey – never clever enough to be perceived as an actual threat.

While perhaps not as important as some of his earliest masterworks, Fritz Lang’s Scarlet Street is a brooding, haunting, hopelessly bleak near-masterpiece.  It features a remarkable performance by one of Hollywood’s greatest unsung stars, an excellent supporting cast, a sharp script by veteran writer Dudley Nichols, and excellent film noir imagery by one of the genre’s innovators.  It may be flawed, but it’s an unforgettable and thrilling experience that I can’t wait to revisit over and over and over again.  Much like Christopher Cross, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to purge the phrase “Jeepers, I love you Johnny” from my mind – but unlike him, I’m certainly not complaining.  Fritz Lang’s Scarlet Street gets my highest recommendation.

Noirvember II #2 – The Naked City (1948)

The Naked City (1948)
Directed by: Jules Dassin
Written by: Albert Maltz (screenplay), Malvin Hald (story, screenplay)
Starring: Barry Fitzgerald, Howard Duff, Dorothy Hart, Don Taylor

Note: We previously covered director Jules Dassin in last year’s Noirvember feature of Night and the City.  Check it out here.

The hot, bustling streets of New York City are the real star of Jules Dassin’s seminal film noir The Naked City.  Filmed entirely on location in the big city, Dassin’s film is quite unique and very much ahead of its time by not being confined to a sound stage like many of its contemporaries.  Impressively, this film came before Dassin’s biggest successes – Night and the City and Rififi – and serves as one of the early indicators of Dassin’s skills behind the camera. Director of photography William H. Daniels was honored with an Academy Award for Best Cinematography for his brilliant photography of New York City. Daniels managed to capture the feel of a true film noir despite filming a majority of the scenes in broad daylight, creating a relentlessly hot, muggy atmosphere in the process.  When we’re not under the bright sun, Daniels captures breathtaking images of New York City horizons at sunset, giving us a wide variety of photography.  Daniels’ skilled eye, combined with Dassin’s prowess behind the camera, and frequent narration from Mark Hellinger gives The Naked City an almost documentary-like feel.

Starring veteran actor Barry Fitzgerald and the young Don Taylor, The Naked City is procedural in every sense of the word.  Fitzgerald plays Lieutenant Dan Muldoon, who we follow as he investigates the apparent murder of a young woman named Jean Dexter.  Dexter is thought to have been drowned in her bathroom, and drugged using prescription sleeping pills.  Rookie detective Jimmy Halloran (Taylor) accompanies Lt. Muldoon through the proceedings. The two question a wide range of suspects and connections, including Dr. Stoneman (House Jameson), who prescribed the pills, Frank Niles (Howard Duff), who carried out an affair with Dexter, and a veteran professional wrestler turned burglar named Willie Garzah (Ted de Corsia).  Muldoon and Halloran come to the conclusion that multiple suspects are responsible, and pursue any lead they can find.  This leads to the veteran Muldoon handling much of the questioning, and Halloran on the New York City streets.  What ensues is a thrilling, suspenseful, and unpredictable turn of events that will see Jean Dexter’s killer apprehended by the authorities – but at what cost?  Find out in Jules Dassin’s excellent The Naked City!

It’s difficult not to compare The Naked City to Night and the City.  They were released within two years of each other, directed by Jules Dassin, prominently feature a moody big city atmosphere, and oddly enough feature professional wrestlers in their story.  If there’s one thing that sets The Naked City apart from Dassin’s later noir masterpiece, it’s that the former has much more personality to it.  The Naked City features elements of humor throughout, often delivered through Mark Hellinger’s excellent narration.  Hellinger’s narrator helps to personify the city of New York, further pushing the sprawling metropolis as a lead character in The Naked City.  He gives voices to the people of New York, who are going about their daily routines without knowing anything about the events taking place in the film.  The personality is furthered even more through William H. Daniel’s incredible photography, the suspenseful and enthralling crime story as told by screenwriters Albert Maltz and Malvin Hald, and some terrific early direction from Jules Dassin.  The combination of these elements creates a truly memorable and unique film noir experience, which I did not expect going into The Naked City.  It’s dark, it’s funny, and it’s beautiful – It’s everything film noir should aspire to be.

What I Liked:

• William H. Daniel’s cinematography really adds a lot to the film.  His photography brings New York City to life.
• Barry Fitzgerald’s performance as Lt. Muldoon is a perfect anchor, bringing a lot of veteran instincts to a film featuring a great deal of newcomers and first time actors.
• The score by Miklos Rozsa and Frank Skinner adds suspense and levity to the film, especially in its last act.
• The final scene on the Williamsburg Bridge is terrific and feels well-earned and satisfying.
• Mark Hellinger’s narration is humorous and insightful, it really brings the film together.  Hellinger also served as producer on the film, but died before its release.
• The procedural elements never get too bogged down in the nitty gritty details, which definitely helps the pacing of the film.

What I Didn’t:

• At times the reasons behind the murder of Jean Dexter felt contrived, but that pretty much sums up the motives of criminals in film noir.
• The character of Willie Garzah should feel like more of a threat.  He does for a brief moment, only for it to crumble almost immediately.  

Having now seen three of director Jules Dassin’s most famous films, I can absolutely appreciate what he did for the genres of film noir and crime, but also for movies as a whole.  Dassin understands suspense and the importance of a strong build-up like few others – any comparisons to the works of Alfred Hitchcock seem well warranted.  The Naked City is a stylish, fast-paced crime procedural that will please viewers of any background.  It features stunning on-location cinematography, a fun lead performance by Barry Fitzgerald, sharp writing, editing, and pacing.  It truly is everything a film noir should be.  It probably won’t change your life in any meaningful way, but I think it’s safe to call it a classic of the genre.  Jules Dassin’s The Naked City is highly recommended.

Noirvember II #1 – Hangmen Also Die! (1943)

Hangmen Also Die! (1943)
Directed by: Fritz Lang
Written by: Fritz Lang (story), Bertolt Brecht (story), John Wexley (screenplay)
Starring: Brian Donlevy, Walter Brennan, Hans Heinrich von Twardowski, Anna Lee

Back in October I briefly reviewed Sean Ellis’ new film Anthropoid, the story of a secretive British-Czech joint operation to kill high-ranking Nazi official Reinhard Heydrich.  That film was not the first time it has been adapted for the big screen.  Released just one year after the events took place in 1942, legendary Hollywood director Fritz Lang adapted the true story for his film Hangmen Also Die!  The film is more of a loose adaptation of the true story, as the details of the event vary wildly from those portrayed in the film.  Director Fritz Lang is responsible for some of the most acclaimed films of the era, and made an entire career out of directing suspenseful and stylish film noir and crime movies.  Some of the most acclaimed works in his prolific filmography include Metropolis, Die Nibelungen, M, Fury, The Big Heat, You Only Live Once, The Woman in the Window, and Scarlet Street.  It is important to note that Lang left his native Germany during the rise to power of the Nazi Party, and so had a tremendous stake in the outcome of the second World War.  Fritz Lang’s influence on the film noir genre cannot be understated, first with the development of early noir in Germany, and later with his incredibly successful dark Hollywood noirs.  His trademark shadowy lighting style, pessimistic worldview, and famous composition can be identified in nearly all of his films.

Hangmen Also Die! tells the story of Dr. Franticek Svoboda (played by Brian Donlevy), who has just taken part in a mission to assassinate the “Hangman of Prague” Reinhard Heydrich.  Svoboda’s safe house is compromised at the last minute, and the young doctor is forced to seek shelter.  He meets a woman named Mascha (Anna Lee), her father Dr. Novotny (Walter Brennan), and a group of various Czech rebels who assist Svoboda by misleading the Nazi soldiers sent to find Heydrich’s assassin. Before long, an incentive program is created to out the highly sought-after assassin – Czech citizens will be executed forty at a time until the perpetrator is given up to Nazi officials.  Dr. Svoboda’s ally Professor Novotny immediately becomes a target of these executions, creating tension between the doctor and the Czech rebels.  Will Svoboda be given up to the Nazi’s, or will the Czech people work together in order to find a solution to save their own and the Heydrich’s assassin?  Find out in Fritz Lang’s 1943 film Hangmen Also Die!

With a filmography that includes some of the greatest films ever made, Fritz Lang’s Hangmen Also Die! is a difficult film to rank.  It certainly isn’t Lang’s best work – it lacks the focus and innovative filmmaking techniques that defined his work.  At the same time, it certainly isn’t a bad film by any stretch.  It’s contemplative and suspenseful, and features some really solid performances. The problem with Hangmen Also Die! is that it’s bloated and at times pretty dull. At more than two hours long, Lang’s combination of noir and war film struggles to hold the attention of the viewer, despite having a complex and intriguing plot. Unfortunately, the film features very few truly memorable moments, instead slowly building up its complicated but fascinating narrative.  It lacks many of the trademarks that make film noir such a beloved genre: there is little mystery to be found in the screenplay, no dark or guiding narration, and features a pretty basic use of the foggy, shadowy cinematography employed in the genre’s best features. Hangmen Also Die! is a film I’m very glad to have seen, but it’s one I fear won’t be committed to memory for very long.

What I Liked:

• The changes to the true story are enough to present an original story while also paying tribute to the courageous act of heroism.
• The primary messages of patriotism and sacrifice in the name of country are very clear and subtle.  These themes could be over-the-top and obnoxious, but instead become uplifting.
• The supporting players serve as the most compelling performances in the film.  Highlights include Walter Brennan’s Professor Novotny and Gene Lockhart’s Emil Czaka.
• The film never resorts to cheap action set pieces to push the suspense and stakes.  The core story elements are more than enough to make the plot feel important.

What I Didn’t:

• Fritz Lang’s usually innovative and brilliant direction seem to be missing – replaced instead by slightly uninspired filmmaking.
• The runtime is completely unearned, especially since so much of it is spent on what feels like such minor elements of the story.
• The lack of established noir elements makes Hangmen Also Die! feel like something of an ugly duckling in the genre.  The basic framework is there, but things just don’t feel right.
• The audience is never given a reason to despise Heydrich as much as the Czech people in the film do, which creates something of a disconnect between viewers and the movie.

While Fritz Lang’s Hangmen Also Die! isn’t a great film, it certainly isn’t a bad one by any means.  The film’s story often feels important and heavy, even if it’s a little bloated due to its runtime.  Supporting players like Walter Brennan and Gene Lockhart deliver solid performances, but they’re at times undermined by the slightly uninspired filmmaking and lack of classic film noir elements. Hangmen Also Die! is absolutely a better film than Sean Ellis’ recent Anthropoid, but it’s also a completely different one altogether.  It’s a respectable and entertaining tribute to the acts of heroism by the Czech people during a time of great turmoil, and delivers an important message about these same themes.  It probably won’t change your life – nor is it a great starting point for those looking to be introduced to film noir – but Hangmen Also Die! is recommended.  

Noirvember Feature #10 – Touch of Evil (1958)

Touch of Evil (1958)
Directed by: Orson Welles
Written by: Orson Welles (based on Badge of Evil by Whit Masterson)
Starring: Charlton Heston, Janet Leigh, Orson Welles, Joseph Calleia, Marlene Dietrich

Orson Welles is without a doubt one of the most stories directors in Hollywood history.  His feature length debut film, Citizen Kane, is known as one of the greatest films ever made, and even managed to completely re-define the way films were made.  His influence is felt to this very day, not only through Citizen Kane, but his other ambitious projects like Shakespeare adaptations Macbeth and Othello, the Academy Award nominated The Magnificent Ambersons, his documentary essay film F For Fake, and his film noirs like The Lady from Shanghai, The Stranger, and the final Noirvember feature, Touch of Evil.  Welles’ film noir is often regarded as one of his best films, and one of the last “true” film noirs of the era, and because of this it’s only fitting that I’ve picked it to close out this month’s festival.  The film was released in 1958, and would prove to be the final project that Orson would direct on American soil.  After the release of Touch of Evil, Welles would focus on strictly European productions, and would move onto more challenging projects than ever before, even tackling ambitious projects he had no hope to finish.  By the time Welles passed away in 1985, his list of incomplete films would rival his own finished filmography, many of these projects developed after the release of his last film noir.  Touch of Evil has been met with both wide amounts of praise and controversy over the years, mostly because of its whitewashing of non-white characters.  The biggest offense comes in the form of Charlton Heston, who in the film plays a Mexican man, but in real life is as American as they come.  His character wears dark-colored makeup to give him the appearance of a Mexican-born man, and critics and historians alike have questioned the choice of not just casting a real Hispanic actor.  Despite this questionable casting blunder (Heston is still incredible in the role), Touch of Evil has endured the test of time on most other fronts, and is now widely considered to be not only one of the best film noirs of all-time, but one of the great films of the 1950’s.

The film begins on a quite literally explosive note, seeing main characters Ramon Miguel (or Mike) Vargas (Charlton Heston) and his wife Susan Vargas (Janet Leigh) brush with death multiple times by strolling past a car containing a ticking time bomb.  When the car passes the over American border, it finally explodes. The sudden explosion kills those within the car, and quickly launches the drug enforcement officer Miguel Vargas into an investigation. The leader of said investigation is Captain Hank Quinlan (Orson Welles), a no-nonsense, disheveled, and clearly past his prime officer of the law.  Vargas unofficially joins the efforts by Captain Quinlan, and the team soon comes to suspect that the incident has been perpetrated by Sanchez (Victor Millan), the secret husband of the victim’s daughter.  After Vargas accidentally uncovers some very dirty police work by Quinlan and gang, he launches into a full independent investigation of the man’s previous detective work.  The investigation proves Vargas’ hunch correct, and he finds that Quinlan has been planting evidence and sentencing innocent men for years.  When Vargas and his wife suddenly become the targets of unwanted attention by the brother of a suspected bomber, they are moved into a small roadside motel in the middle of nowhere.  While Vargas is out trying to fight the corruption found in Captain Quinlan’s police force, his wife Susan is unknowingly being stalked and her motel room cased.  Will justice prevail over corruption, or will the efforts of Miguel Vargas prove to be fruitless?  Find out in Orson Welles’ incredible Touch of Evil.

Wow.  Even if Noirvember had somehow been a complete disappointment in my books, Touch of Evil is a film so good that its presence alone would have made the marathon a success!  Orson Welles is a filmmaker I’ve always admired greatly, and Touch of Evil only furthers my esteem for the great Hollywood mind.  Not only is his direction incredible throughout (especially the opening long-take, finally interrupted by a massive explosion), but his performance is one of the film’s many standouts.  His drunk, sleazy border sheriff character Captain Quinlan feels larger than life while never becoming hamfisted, and the whole thing is so perfectly believable in its execution.  Charlton Heston and the future Psycho star Janet Leigh have terrific chemistry throughout, and both performances capture ideal characters who believe in justice above all, and are blind enough to fail to see the danger lurking immediately before them.  Despite the role being unfortunately whitewashed, Heston’s on-screen presence makes you immediately forget about the injustice, and instead focus on and appreciate the subtlety in the actors performance.  Heston, who before this had largely starred in epics like Julius Caesar, The Greatest Show on Earth, and The Ten Commandments, showed restraint and talent that I had no idea the actor even had.  Touch of Evil is a film so well-realized and so atmospheric that it instantly makes you forgive its overly-complex and convoluted story, and instead focus almost entirely on the artistry at hand.  The film was originally released in a double bill as something of a B-movie, and would go on to crush the hopes Orson Welles held for a Hollywood relaunch.  The handling of the film by Universal was so unbelievably botched that it almost sounds like fiction.  Instead of releasing and embracing this great film noir directed by one of the all-time great directors, and starring a cast of A-list stars, the studio would feel ashamed of the effort and instead bury it in trash.  It makes me so incredible happy to see the public opinion of the film change to such a positive one, and it’s so incredibly deserved for a masterpiece like Touch of Evil.

Orson Welles’ final Hollywood production would prove to be a financial flop, but would fortunately be looked at historically as one of the best films ever made.  Touch of Evil is a beautiful, dark, and atmospheric noir that features incredible direction by Welles, terrific performances by the entire cast, and some incredibly tense moments that you’ll have to see to fully appreciate. It is a film I’m disappointed took me so long to finally see, but I know it’s one I’ll never forget.  Orson Welles’ Touch of Evil gets my highest recommendation.  

Noirvember Feature #9 – Kiss Me Deadly (1955)

Kiss Me Deadly (1955)
Directed by: Robert Aldrich
Written by: A.I. Bezzerides (based on Kiss Me, Deadly by Mickey Spillane)
Starring: Ralph Meeker, Maxine Cooper, Cloris Leachman, Gaby Rodgers, Albert Dekker, Paul Stewart, Juano Hernandez

Robert Aldrich is perhaps one of the best known directors of the entire marathon, with a filmography including Noirvember’s latest feature Kiss Me Deadly, The Dirty Dozen, What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?, Hush…Hush, Sweet Charlotte, The Flight of the Phoenix, and The Longest Yard.  To say that Aldrich has had an undeniable influence on the history of genre filmmaking is an understatement.  Some of the films listed above are very likely to have paved the way for the future generation of blockbuster and big budget filmmakers.  Aldrich’s Kiss Me Deadly came early on in his directing career, and would would go on to be recognized as one of his great films.  The film perfectly captures the manic paranoia of Cold War era United States.  Nearly every character in the film is mysterious, immoral, unpredictable, and dangerous, just like the threat of imminent nuclear war during the 1950’s.  Kiss Me Deadly stars Ralph Meeker as detective Mike Hammer, a role that would define his career of starring in low budget and cult films.  The success of Kiss Me Deadly can’t be attributed to its director or star, both of whom were relatively unknown as the time of its release, but rather the controversy and discussions that were generated by the famous film noir.  Both the controversial beginning and ending of the film have had critics and historians poring over and debating the merits of Kiss Me Deadly for decades now.  The fact that people are still talking about this film sixty years after its release speaks for itself as far as the final judgment made by the public.

Kiss Me Deadly begins with detective Mike Hammer (Ralph Meeker) picking up an extremely distressed hitchhiker Christina (Cloris Leachman).  The panicked woman tells Hammer to drive her to the bus station, where he can then forget all about her.  She mentions that if for some reason they don’t make it to the bus station, that it’s important the detective should remember her.  Hammer and Christina are quickly run off the road, the hitchhiker brutally tortured and murdered, and Mike left for dead.  He wakes up to find himself in the hospital, and very quickly gets to work on trying to solve who the woman was, and what she was on about.  Mike quickly finds out that Christina had escaped from a nearby mental asylum, that she had important knowledge held by few, and that the people who are responsible for her death are now after detective Hammer.  Unfortunately for them, detective Mike Hammer isn’t a man who can be bullied into submission by thugs, because our main character is every bit corrupt and dirty as the criminals he is now chasing.  After meeting Christina’s supposed roommate, Lily Carver (Gaby Rodgers) Hammer learns of a valuable box she held in her position, whose contents are a mystery.  We later come to find out what the contents of the mysterious box are and what they represent, and hold the knowledge that if opened could forever change the lives of those around it.  Will Mike Hammer track down the men responsible for Christina’s death and recover the mysterious box, or will the detective be outmatched and outgunned by the clever criminals chasing him?  Find out in Robert Aldrich’s incredible Kiss Me Deadly.

“If I catch ya snooping around with a gun in your hand, I’ll throw you in jail!” – Going to jail is literally the least of Mike Hammer’s concerns in Kiss Me Deadly, and that fact only makes the film greater in its high stakes nature.  I’m not ashamed to admit that I’ve watched the film nearly three times in the last week in order to fully comprehend the twists and turns it makes, as well as understand the fairly complex plot at hand in the film.  At first nothing clicked with me, and I thought that maybe Kiss Me Deadly’s complex and fast-paced plot and large cast of characters just wasn’t for me.  On a rewatch, however, I found out just how wrong I was.  Robert Aldrich’s Kiss Me Deadly, based on a novel of the same name by writer Mickey Spillane, is an incredibly taught and suspense noir, and will very likely go down as one of the most memorable I’ve seen to date.  The cast of characters are all corrupt crooks looking out for themselves, which helps establish the film’s dark and eerie mood.  Mike Hammer is such a complex and unique character that it took me those three watches to finally appreciate him.  I can’t possibly imagine how Ralph Meeker’s performance as Hammer didn’t launch him into a more notable career, but at least it’s here for us to praise all these years later.  The film’s climax is one of the most nihilistic and downtrodden I’ve ever seen, not just in the film noir genre I’ve been featuring this past month.  I can’t possibly spoil it for anybody reading, but I’ll say that it’s explosive in its energy and suspense, and that it’s well worth the wait.  Kiss Me Deadly can be looked back upon as the originator of the “mysterious box” trope found in films like Quentin Tarantino’s Pulp Fiction, which was inspired by Aldrich’s film.  The film is an obvious product of Cold War era Hollywood, feeling incredibly paranoid and untrustworthy in every twist and turn it makes, and this helps further the plot and character building in its own unique way.  

In all of its dark, moody, corrupt, and paranoid glory, it’s easy for me to say that Kiss Me Deadly is an absolute masterpiece of the genre.  The character of Mike Hammer is incredibly complex and a delight to watch onscreen.  It makes me wish that more serious adaptations of the novels featuring him as a character were made, and that the team of Aldrich and Meeker were able to collaborate on more than one of them.  Kiss Me Deadly is about as depressing as film noir gets, and it works in every single frame.  I can say without a doubt in my mind that Kiss Me Deadly is highly recommended, and that anybody reading this would find something in it to fall in love with.

Noirvember Feature #8 – Night and the City (1950)

Night and the City (1950)
Directed by: Jules Dassin
Written by: Jo Eisinger (based on Night and the City by Gerald Kersh)
Starring: Richard Widmark, Gene Tierney, Googie Withers, Herbert Lom

Director Jules Dassin fits perfectly into many of the themes our Noirvember marathon has seen so far.  Many of the filmmakers covered have been those who sought asylum in Hollywood before or during the rise of Nazism in mid-1930’s Europe.  Many of these men came to America in order to hone their craft and continue working under the freedoms they had once enjoyed in their native lands.  Dassin’s story is the complete opposite of those other filmmakers.  Jules was an American born director who would seek asylum in Europe shortly before the release of his famous film noir Night and the City.  His reason for fleeing a country that many considered to be the freest in the world?  The infamous Hollywood blacklist – which accused Dassin of being a Communist sympathizer.  From there, Jules Dassin would end up in France, and would go on to direct one of the greatest films ever made, Rififi.  Night and the City, along with his film The Naked City, would establish Dassin as one of the great film noir and crime directors of the time, and would help to establish his legacy as one of the great filmmakers of his time.  The film stars the extremely prolific Richard Widmark, as well as Gene Tierney (who also starred in Noirvember feature #1, Laura) one of the best actresses of the time.  Night and the City has been criticized since its release for having no real moral characters for the audience to get behind, and for being hopelessly bleak – even for a film noir.

Night and the City is the dark and sleazy story about an almost unredeemable man named Harry Fabian (Richard Widmark).  Fabian is a hustler out to con anybody he can, and he isn’t particularly good at it.  Mary Bristol (Gene Tierney) is Fabian’s main squeeze, with whom he maintains a somewhat unstable relationship.  After seeing proverbial dollar signs in his eyes during a wrestling match, Fabian goes into business with famous former professional wrestler Gregorius (Stanislaus Zbyszko) and his protege Nikolas (Ken Richmond).  Having put his famous sleazy charm on the two famous pro wrestlers, Fabian attempts to gain financing for his new sports enterprise.  Gregorius has just had a falling out with his son Kristo (Herbert Lom), and is eagerly looking to go into business with a new partner in order to undercut his son.  After being denied financing from an assortment of characters, Fabian finally settles with acquaintances Phil (Francis L. Sullivan) and Helen (Googie Withers) in exchange for a forged nightclub license.  Soon enough, our main character is approached by associates of the now alienated Kristo, who attempt to dissuade the silver-tongued Fabian from entering the wrestling promoter business.   What follows for nearly our entire cast of less than perfect characters is a complicated web of double crosses, senseless murders, and misfired conning.  Will the charismatic Harry Fabian succeed in the wrestling world, or will the forces working to eliminate his presence win out?  Find out in Jules Dassin’s excellent Night and the City.

The criticisms about Night and the City having no likable characters for the audience to rally behind may be true in theory, but that’s exactly what I admired most about Dassin’s last American production.  The entire film is filled to the brim with some of the sleaziest, most dour characters I’ve seen in film noir up to this point, and every single moment of it is riveting.  The professional wrestling backdrop works in my favour as a fan of the sport, and serves well because of the amount of real life slime balls in the wrestling business, past and present.  The character of Harry Fabian is incredibly captivating because it keeps the audience wondering how and when he’s going to screw over another of his associates or colleagues.  He digs himself into a hole so deep than not even the most talented minds could lift themselves out of, and every minute of it is glorious.  Richard Widmark’s performance as Fabian is the standout in the film, and Widmark absolutely brings the character to life in a realistic and dramatic way.  The supporting cast is terrific as well, all performers bringing a level of sleaze to the picture that goes unmatched by other film noir’s.  The wrestling world backdrop and the slimy cast of characters makes me an incredibly easy watch, and even helps viewers forget about the sometimes overly complex plot unfolding on screen.  Things that happen in Night and the City don’t always make complete sense, but the story still ends up in the right places, and manages to still keep the viewer hooked and knowing the intentions of each and every character.  The highlight of the entire film is a long, intense, and brutal wrestling scene between Gregorius and a rival wrestler under the tutelage of Kristo, The Strangler.  The two men battle until they both collapse from sheer exhaustion, putting on an absolute wrestling clinic in the meantime.  The scene works well to shift the story into its final tragic act, and is an absolute sight to behold.

I can’t say much more about Night and the City without spoiling many of the twists and turns that take place during the short run-time, but I can say without a doubt that most reading this will enjoy some aspect of the film.  The dark, moody atmosphere, the seedy cast of characters, the complicated, the almost mob-like underworld of wrestling, and the terrific performances and direction by Jules Dassin makes Night and the City an absolute must-see for all viewers.  Much like many film noir’s I’ve covered, it may not always make sense – but even in it’s overly complicated story it’s a terrifically fun and compelling watch.  I can say without a doubt that Jules Dassin’s Night and the City is highly recommended.

Noirvember Feature #7 – D.O.A. (1950)

D.O.A. (1950)
Directed by: Rudolph Maté
Written by: Russell Rouse, Clarance Green
Starring: Edmond O’Brien, Pamela Britton, Luther Adler, Beverly Campbell, Neville Brand

Rudolph Maté, director of my next subject D.O.A., had humble beginnings in the film world as a cinematographer.  He is responsible for shooting some of the best films of the 1930’s and 1940’s, and his resume includes: two silent films with the legendary Carl Theodor Dreyer (Vampyr and The Passion of Joan of Arc), William Wyler’s Dodsworth, Alfred Hitchcock’s Foreign Correspondent, Leo McCarey’s Love Affair, Ernst Lubitsch’s To Be or Not to Be, Charles Vidor’s Gilda, and finally Orson Welles’ The Lady from Shanghai.  Maté’s resume is undoubtedly impressive to say the least, and this experience behind the camera definitely helped shape what would become a prolific career as a director.  As a director, Rudolph Maté helmed a great deal of film noirs like Forbidden, The Dark Past, Union Station, and The Green Glove, most starring up-and-coming stars like William Holden, Tony Curtis, and Glenn Ford.  On top of his noir catalog, Maté directed a great deal of westerns, adventure and action, and science fiction films of the era.  He was something of a director for hire, but it very clearly paid off for him with many of his films receiving technical Academy Award nominations.  D.O.A. is perhaps the film Maté is best remembered for, and it is seen as one of the better film noirs of the 1950’s by many critics.  The film stars Academy Award winning Edmond O’Brien (also featured in 1946’s The Killers) as Frank Bigelow, and prolific television stars Pamela Britton as Paula Gibson.  

Frank Bigelow (Edmond O’Brien) walking into the police station in the riveting opening of 1950’s D.O.A.

D.O.A. follows a dead man named Frank Bigelow (Edmond O’Brien) – only he’s not actually dead just yet.  Frank has been fatally poisoned by an unknown party for reasons he’s not quite sure of.  The film starts shockingly with Bigelow walking into a police station to report his own murder, yet he’s surprised to find that the police are expecting him. From there, we’re treated to a long series of flashbacks showing Frank’s life as an accountant.  After departing for a vacation and not bringing along his girlfriend Paula Gibson (Pamela Britton), Frank finds himself in a daze after a visit to a wild nightclub.  It is at this nightclub that Frank Bigelow unknowingly seals his own fate and drinks the poison that will slowly lead to his demise.  Doctors conclude that there is no way to combat the poison in Frank’s system, and give him a number of days to live.  Using the last of his time on earth, our protagonist tracks down suspects who may have been involved in his eventual murder.  He pays visits to a wild array of characters and receives varying levels of hospitality in return.  Eventually we come to find that not only has Bigelow has become embroiled in a transaction of stolen iridium (for which he served as the notary public), but he has also unveiled something much more personal about his murderer.  Will Frank Bigelow bring his murderer to justice, or will his time run up before cracking the case?  Find out by watching D.O.A.

Unfortunately there had to come a time during the marathon where a film just didn’t resonate with me at all.  As much as I hate to have to write these words, that film is Rudolph Maté’s D.O.A.  It isn’t a complete failure by any means, but the film seems so unsure of itself at times.  The script is a mess, and it took me two watches to completely follow along and understand the roles that our wide assortment of side characters played.  D.O.A. starts with a terrific and compelling opening scene, but very quickly follows into the incredibly long, painfully unfunny, and tedious vacation part of the film.  The exposition here is quite heavy, and yet it’s still never completely clear to me what was going on.  There’s just so much going on throughout the film, and none of it ever really has the time to grow into something truly memorable or significant.  Luckily, Edmond O’Brien’s central performance is very good, and gives the audience somebody to root for.  His character may not be well-developed or entirely three-dimensional, but it’s still a great deal of fun to watch his encounters with the potential suspects.  Speaking of the suspects, it was never entirely clear to me why some of these people were being approached by Bigelow.  I understood the motivations at times, but I was left scratching my head more often than not.  Luckily for me, when things finally ramped up in the story, I was instantly hooked regardless of what I thought about the actual story unfolding.  Another good aspect of the film is that Rudolph Maté’s cinematography background absolutely pays off in spades here.  The composition of shots and direction is smooth, subtle and clearly very well-trained, and Maté and his team brings out some of those beautiful noir motifs that I love so much.  

Overall, D.O.A. is something of a mixed bag.  Even now, a few days removed from the film, I’m not entirely sure what to think about it.  It has many admirable elements and even some very exciting chase sequences, but nothing that I’ll be able to remember in vivid detail a week from now.  Rudolph Maté is a director whose body of work I’d like to explore in more detail, but D.O.A. has made me slightly wary of doing so.  It’s not a bad film, but it certainly isn’t a great one either.  I suppose you can’t win them all.  I would recommend you view D.O.A. at your own discretion.

Noirvember Feature #6 – The Big Clock (1948)

The Big Clock (1948)
Directed by: John Farrow
Written by: Jonathan Latimer (based on The Big Clock by Kenneth Fearing)
Starring: Ray Milland, Charles Laughton, Maureen O’Sullivan, Rita Johnson

This month’s selections just keeps getting better and better…

Director John Farrow (father of the highly-acclaimed actress Mia Farrow) was incredibly prolific as both a writer and director for nearly three decades.  It wasn’t until 1948’s The Big Clock that he truly struck a long-lasting chord with critics and audiences, and even after its release he would fail to live up to the film.  Farrow was nominated for Best Director for 1942’s Wake Island and even won an Oscar for writing 1956’s Around the World in Eighty Days, but those films haven’t endured the test of time like his famous film noir has.  The Big Clock stars Ray Milland, who just three years prior had given what I would consider to be one of the all-time great performances in The Lost Weekend, and the legendary Charles Laughton, whose acclaimed roles are far too plenty to list here.  Maureen O’Sullivan, the wife of director John Farrow and mother of Mia Farrow, also stars.  O’Sullivan was widely known at the time for playing Jane in the Tarzan series of films.  Her role in the film came after a prolonged absence from the screen, and was met with critical praise, but she soon after opted to retire from the screen permanently.  The Big Clock is based on a famous novel of the same name, written by Kenneth Fearing, and has been adapted for the screen a number of time since its publication.

Earl Janoth (Charles Laughton) and George Stroud (Ray Milland) in the beginning of 1948’s The Big Clock.

The story of The Big Clock sees our main character, magazine editor George Stroud (played by Oscar-winning Ray Milland), being fired at the outset.  Stroud is eager to take a vacation with his wife Georgette (Maureen O’Sullivan), but plans his slowly become unravelled after gaining the attention of the beautiful Pauline York (Rita Johnson).  Pauline is the mistress of George’s former boss Earl Janoth (Charles Laughton), which is partly why she shows so much interest in the down-on-his-luck George.  The two hit it off and devise a plan to blackmail the media mogul Janoth. Soon after George leaves her apartment to reunite with his wife, Pauline is quickly murdered after a passionate spat with her lover.  Little do the two men know that they quite literally bumped into each other in the hallway of Pauline’s apartment building, both men’s faces shrouded in darkness.  Janoth now looks for the man in the hallway so that he can pin his crime of passion on the mystery man, and unwittingly hires George back in order to track down the mystery man.  Now George must both lead the investigation and manhunt for the “murderer”, and cover up the fact that he’s the man the media is so desperately searching for.  Will Pauline York’s true killer be caught and brought to justice, or will the wrong man pay for a crime he didn’t commit?  You’ll have to watch John Farrow’s excellent The Big Clock to find out for yourself!

The Big Clock is as twisty-turny as film noir gets, and in this case it definitely works to its benefit.  The film keeps the audience on its feet and keeps you guessing whether Stroud or Janoth are going to get caught, and how they’re going to be able to get themselves out of the situation.  The scenes in the first act of the film involving George Stroud and his wife Georgette are quite funny and relatable, and set a very good pace for what was to follow.  Ray Milland and Maureen O’Sullivan had terrific chemistry together as the Stroud’s, and when Georgette decided to tag along with her husband I was overjoyed.  The may not be the most effective team due to some awkward gender roles of the time, but I still had a lot of fun watching the couple on-screen.  Charles Laughton’s performance as Earl Janoth is diabolical and hammy in the best way possible, and it’s obvious why Laughton is so highly regarded as an actor.  He seems to play a villainous character with ease, being both incredibly intimidating and slimy all at the same time.  His scenes with Milland’s George Stroud are tense, and the way he commands the screen just begs the attention of the viewer.  Director John Farrow also deserves a great deal of praise, commanding evocative performances from the entire (albeit talented) leading cast, and also for a variety of taught directing techniques.  A long single take shot towards the beginning of the film sets the tone for things to come, and is expertly handled by the veteran director. Reveals of the many twists and turns in the film’s script are handled with subtlety, making the audience piece together some of the clues and do some thinking instead of spoon-feeding them answers.  

In short, The Big Clock is a tight, tense, atmospheric film noir that will keep you on your toes.  The performances from an all-star cast are terrific, the writing respects its source material and doesn’t insult its audience, and John Farrow’s direction is somehow both subtle and stylish.  All of these elements combined lead to The Big Clock being regarded as one of my favorite films of this month’s marathon, and I now feel compelled to seek out similar stories, as well as more work from director John Farrow.  The Big Clock is highly recommended!

Noirvember Feature #5 – They Live by Night (1948)

They Live by Night (1948)
Directed by: Nicholas Ray
Written by: Charles Schnee, Nicholas Ray (based on Thieves Like Us by Edward Anderson)
Starring: Cathy O’Donnell, Farley Granger, Howard Da Silva

The story of two young lovers on the run from the law is a wildly popular tale in Hollywood history, and many of its origins can very likely be traced back to 1948’s They Live by Night.  Nicholas Ray’s film noir is seen as many to be the prototype to the story of Bonnie and Clyde, a film many consider to be the most successful of the subgenre.  Though the similar stories had been told in the past (specifically in Fritz Lang’s 1937 You Only Live Once, and Hitchcock’s The 39 Steps), Ray’s film modernizes the story for a new generation.  Films that would follow the same story arc as They Live by Night include: 1950’s Gun Crazy, Jean-Luc Godard’s Pierrot le Fou, 1967’s Bonnie and Clyde, Terrence Malick’s Badlands, Gus Van Sant’s Drugstore Cowboy, and most recently Wes Anderson’s Moonrise Kingdom.  They Live by Night would be director Nicholas Ray’s debut behind the camera, and what a career it would lead to.  Ray would go on to direct such films as Johnny Guitar, In a Lonely Place, Rebel Without a Cause, Bigger Than Life, and Party Girl, and is still celebrated and analyzed decades after he passed away.  Ray has become something of a cult figure to cinephiles, and his legacy only continues to grow.  The film stars young Farley Granger, who would go on to be noticed by names like Alfred Hitchcock and Humphrey Bogart, and the lovely Cathy O’Donnell – a film noir regular for most of her ultimately short career.

Farley Granger (Bowie) and Cathy O’Donnell (Keechie) on the run in 1948’s They Live by Night.

They Live by Night sees three bank robbers (Bowie, Chicamaw, and T-Dub) escaping from prison early on.  Our main character Bowie (Farley Granger) has been wrongly accused of murder and is now on the lam.  He decides to hire a lawyer in order to prove that he isn’t guilty of his alleged crime, but first must get his hands on the money needed. After becoming injured, Bowie seeks refuge with a gas station owner and his young daughter Catherine, or Keechie (played by Cathy O’Donnell).  After quickly falling head over heels for each other, the young couple decides to get hitched and run away together.  Bowie plans to become an honest, hardworking man, but unfortunately for the young couple life isn’t always that simple.  Bowie once again bumps into former partners in crime Chicamaw and T-Dub, and is coerced into joining the crew for one more dirty job.  Will the young couple live happily ever after, or will the life of crime catch up with them?  Find out by watching Nicholas Ray’s They Live by Night.

While the film isn’t exactly unique by today’s standards, there’s absolutely no denying the influence it has had on modern film.  They Live by Night avoids many of the film noir cliches we’ve come to know and love (and sometimes hate), and instead becomes something much more profound.  This is a love story through and through, with very little mystery involved.  The audience isn’t left to pick up the pieces or be the detective, but instead get to follow two well-rounded, and young characters who are very easy to like.  The film takes a little while to ramp up, but it’s smooth sailing once it gets going.  My favorite scene of the involves involves Bowie and Keechie getting married late at night in an odd little establishment.  The man officiating the marriage and the two witnesses are delightfully weird and eccentric, and the scene itself is quite funny.  This scene helps to relieve the tension felt through the first act of the film, and briefly makes it feel as if things are going to be perfectly okay for the young couple.  The performances by Farley Granger and Cathy O’Donnell are both very good, and it’s no wonder why somebody like Alfred Hitchcock would become interested in having the young man in some of his films (Rope and Strangers on a Train). Cathy O’Donnell would become a William Wyler regular, appearing in Best Picture winners Ben-Hur and The Best Years of Our Lives, as well as his film noir Detective Story.  For Nicholas Ray’s first feature film, the direction is quite smooth and restrained.  It definitely doesn’t feel like somebody’s first film, which is a testament to the skills of the man behind the camera, and probably also to the strict studio system of the 1940’s.

There’s a heck of a lot to admire about They Live by Night.  It paved the way for some of my all-time favorite films including Badlands, the Tarantino-penned True Romance, Bonnie and Clyde, and countless other greats.  The movie definitely runs at its own pace, which helps establish the universe and characters, but unfortunately stops the film dead in its tracks during a few scenes. The important thing is that I was entertained throughout, and thoroughly impressed by how modern it all still feels.  It may not be a perfect film in my books, but it’s definitely a fun, thrilling ride.  It would make way for one of the most underrated directors of the 1950’s, and its influence is still felt today.  It might not be my favorite film in the Noirvember series, but I still found a great deal about it to be satisfied with.  They Live by Night is very easily recommended.

Noirvember Feature #4 – Nightmare Alley (1947)

Nightmare Alley (1947)
Directed by: Edmund Goulding
Written by: Jules Furthman (based on Nightmare Alley by William Lindsay Gresham)
Starring: Tyrone Power, Coleen Gray, Joan Blondell, Helen Walker

This monthly theme idea just keeps producing better and better results, I couldn’t be happier with the way Noirvember has unfolded so far.  The latest in a series of surprisingly terrific films is Edmund Goulding’s Nightmare Alley, a noir much different from what we’ve taken a look at this month.  Goulding is probably best known for directing Bette Davis in 1939’s excellent Dark Victory and the so-so Best Picture winner Grand Hotel in 1932.  Nightmare Alley came towards the end of Goulding’s directing career, and has proven to be one of his most acclaimed and memorable films in the years since his death.  The film stars swashbuckling Hollywood heartthrob Tyrone Power as Stan Carlisle, the charming noir regular Coleen Gray as Molly Carlisle, and the terrific and prolific Joan Blondell as Zeena.  Reviews of the time were initially mixed, but Nightmare Alley has slowly but surely earned the reputation as one of the best film noirs of its time, and an incredibly dark and morally ambiguous one at that.  Due to this moral ambiguity Nightmare Alley wasn’t exactly a success after its release, and probably ended up costing 20th Century Fox more money than it worth to the studio.  The film has a notable cast, an Academy Award winning director, and a big budget, so why was it considered a failure for so many years?

Stan Carlisle (Tyrone Power) and Zeena (Joan Blondell) in Edmund Goulding’s noir masterpiece Nightmare Alley.

Nightmare Alley follows Stan Carlisle (the aforementioned Tyrone Power) as a seedy carnival con man trying to claw his way to the top of his travelling circus.  Our main character soon finds himself wrapped up in a love affair with his new boss Zeena (Joan Blondell), but his intentions are far from innocent.  Zeena reveals to Stan that she and her husband were once a major act in the travelling carnival world.  She tells him the two developed a code that would allow the couple to communicate, yet remain undetected by the audience.  Zeena would feign mental powers, and her husband Pete (Ian Keith) would ask her questions written by the audience.  Upon hearing of this famous “code” Stan begs Zeena to go into business with him, and after an accident involving her husband she decides to go ahead with the plan.  Unfortunately for Zeena, Stan likes ‘em young.  He soon sets his sights on the talented Molly (Coleen Gray).  Molly is a beautiful young act who falls head over heels for our main character before she even knows it.  Stan soon begins yet another affair with young Molly, and are both forced to leave when the two are found out by the other members of the carnival.  With knowledge of the famed code Carlisle and his new lady now have the world in the palm of their hands.  Will the two prosper with their newfound fame and talents, or will Stan’s seediness and criminal history catch up to him?  Find out by watching Edmund Goulding’s excellent Nightmare Alley; I promise you it’s absolutely worth your time.

I wasn’t initially sure what to think when Nightmare Alley began unravelling, but the film slowly ramps up tension and builds the world and characters involved in it.  The film starts to truly shine once these elements of the film are established, and I can absolutely say that I adored it because of them.  All of our main characters are incredibly fun to watch because of how morally confused many of them are, and because of how real they feel for the time.  Tyrone Power’s turn as Stan Carlisle is absolutely one of my favorite film noir performances to date, and the supporting cast of incredibly talented actresses like Joan Blondell, Coleen Gray, and Helen Walker only helps to solidify the film’s greatness.  The carnival setting is truly unique in the film noir world, and is a place where Hollywood rarely dared to venture at the time.  The carnival acts and personalities are all believable, and much of the goings on inside make the film feel seedy and dark as it should.  Nightmare Alley doesn’t adhere to typical film noir conventions and easy storytelling elements, but instead opts to blaze its own thrilling and dramatic trail.  I found myself wishing that more films in the genre were this unique and easy to follow, and hope that I come across more on my month-long journey through noir.  

The acting, setting, storytelling, and direction make Nightmare Alley an absolute treat from start to finish, and has me guessing character motivations as well as constantly changing favorites.  It’s a noir the likes of which I’ve rarely seen before, and I highly recommend everybody check it out.  I don’t want to reveal too much about the twists and turns taken throughout, and I really hope you all decide to seek it out because of that.  It’s dark, challenging, and still feels relevant nearly seventy years later.  Edmund Goulding’s Nightmare Alley gets my highest recommendation.

Noirvember Feature #3 – The Killers (1946)

The Killers (1946)
Directed by: Robert Siodmak
Written by: Richard Brooks, Anthony Veiller, John Huston (based on The Killers by Ernest Hemingway)
Starring: Burt Lancaster, Ava Gardner, Edmond O’Brien, Albert Dekker, Sam Levene

Ernest Hemingway’s short story provided the inspiration for three separate, all pretty acclaimed and competent film noirs in the span of less than 20 years.  Robert Siodmak’s 1946 adaptation of The Killers is the first of those three, and perhaps the most celebrated of the three.  Siodmak, a German born director who, along with countless talented artists, left the country during the rise of Nazism for greener pastures.  This would lead him to directing various thrillers and film noirs, and eventually earning a nomination for Best Director at the Academy Awards for this very film.  The Killers stars the iconic Burt Lancaster in his very first feature, and future Oscar-nominee Ava Gardner in one of the most widely acclaimed film noirs of the 1940’s.  The film, shot by cinematographer Elwood Bredell, is one of the best-looking film noirs I’ve had the pleasure of seeing, with every shot perfectly planned and composed, and best of all shrouded in dark, moody shadows.  The Killers would go on to be nominated for Best Editing, Best Director, Best Adaptation, and Best Music at that years Academy Awards, coming up empty-handed in each category, all fairly beaten out by William Wyler’s terrific anti-war film The Best Years of Our Lives.

Robert Siodmak’s adaptation of Hemingway’s The Killers immediately begins with two hitmen assassinating a former boxer Ole Anderson (the onscreen debut of the legendary Burt Lancaster) who also goes by the name of “the Swede”.  After the Swede puts up no fight against the two hitmen, the men flee the scene and we meet our lead character, a life insurance investigator by the name of Jim Reardon (played by Edmond O’Brien), who has been assigned to investigate the murder of the young boxer.  The investigation very quickly leads to the Swede’s friends, family, and associates, and through flashbacks we begin to piece together the pieces of Ole Anderson’s life, just as investigator Reardon is doing.  From there, the film switches regularly between the current day investigation by Reardon, and the lead-up to the mysterious murder of Ole Anderson.  In both timelines, we meet our femme fatale Kitty Collins (played terrifically by Ava Gardner), a former flame of Anderson’s, and the reason for so much of the mystery concerning the Swede’s death.  Another lead player is the crime boss “Bim Jim” Colfax (Albert Dekker), a man who the Swede has become business partners with.  Big Jim is a rich and powerful man who gets what he wants, and when the Swede takes the fall for a crime he didn’t commit and goes to prison, Big Jim takes his girl Kitty too.  To find out anything more about The Killers’ complex web of characters and deceit, you’ll have to watch the film yourself!

The two hitmen (played by William Conrad and Charles McGraw) in the terrific opening scene of 1946’s The Killers.

I won’t claim to have been able to follow The Killers’ plot initially, as at times it can be incredibly convoluted and probably too complex for its own good, but it’s a damn fun watch despite that. Having now seen it a second time in less than a week, I can assure you that the plot is no more difficult to follow than most convoluted noirs of the time, you just have to fully dedicate yourself to figuring out the relationships between the large cast of characters.  Despite a sometimes shaky story, Siomak’s The Killers features all the elements that I love about the genre of film noir.  The cinematography and photography of nearly every scene is incredible, again shrouded in darkness, shadows, and harsh lighting.  The opening ten minutes are probably one of the greatest starts to a film I’ve ever seen, and that’s saying a great deal.  Every movement and decision made by the two hitmen had me on the edge of my seat, and I desperately wanted to know what their involvement in the story was.  Unfortunately, the rest of the film failed to live up to the impossibly high expectations set by the opening scenes, but I think few films could live up to them.  For being in his first on-screen role, Burt Lancaster is very good at Ole Anderson, being at times slimey, and at other times incredibly sympathetic because of how conflicted his character is.  He’s backed up by terrific performances by Ava Gardner, Edmond O’Brien, and Albert Dekker, all of whom feel well-realized and with realistic motives and actions throughout.

While The Killers wasn’t the most original or well-written film noir I’ve seen, the performances throughout, the mounting tension, and the combination of the films direction and cinematography made for a very memorable experience.  I’m very eager to see the other two adaptations of Hemingway’s The Killers, and it may become something of a side project for myself if I have time this month.  If I can get around for them, look out for my thoughts in the coming weeks!  The Killers may not be absolutely perfect, but it provided me with more than enough thrills and entertainment for its brief run-time (somewhere around 100 minutes).  If you’re a fan of film noirs this is absolutely a must-see example of how a well-realized plot structure isn’t always the most important feature of a film.  It’s recommended for fans of the genre.

Noirvember Feature #2 – Detour (1945)

Detour (1945)
Directed by: Edgar G. Ulmer
Written by: Martin Goldsmith (based on Detour: An Extraordinary Tale by Martin Goldsmith)
Starring: Tom Neal, Ann Savage, Claudia Drake, Edmund MacDonald

If there’s anything film noir is known for other than brilliant lighting and shadows, the classic tropes of the femme fatale and the convoluted double-cross, it’s having a low budget in comparison to major, much “safer” Hollywood efforts of the time.  Edgar G. Ulmer’s film noir Detour is perhaps the pinnacle low-budget film noir, as the film was estimated to have cost somewhere between $20,000 to $100,000 in 1945.  Just to give you an idea of how incredible that is, my last review, Laura, cost somewhere around $1 million, with most future Noirvember reviews falling somewhere between $500,000-$1 million.  Not only was Detour a very low-budget independent affair, but the film was shot in merely six-days, which is unthinkable to most filmmakers in history.  For these feats alone, Ulmer’s film is an absolute triumph of early independent cinema, despite some of the technical issues that it undoubtedly features.  After the death of director Edgar Ulmer, Detour found traction in the new television era and soon became a cult classic in the film noir genre, and was re-discovered by a new generation of viewers.

Sue, played by Claudia Drake, in Edgar G. Ulmer’s 1945 cult classic Detour.

Detour follows a bitter, disillusioned piano player named Al Roberts (played by the infamous actor/boxer/accidental murderer Tom Neal).  Left by his girlfriend Sue (Claudia Drake) so she could pursue work as an actress in Hollywood, Al decides he’s had enough and pursues Sue across the country.  With nothing to his name, Al is forced to hitchhike; which he explains through classic noir narration is a very dangerous and desperate thing to do at this time.  After being picked up by the seedy bookie Charles Haskell Jr. (Edmund MacDonald), our main character finds himself in hot water after Haskell ends up striking his head on a large rock and dying unexpectedly.  After a very close call with the police, our unlucky protagonist is forced to take the name of Charles Haskell Jr. until he’s in Hollywood, and eventually finds himself giving a ride to a young, mysterious hitchhiker called Vera (Ann Savage).  The mischievous Vera isn’t who she seems to be, and is onto the newly crowned “Charles Haskell Jr.”.  In classic film noir fashion, the two quickly become embroiled in a plot to get enough money for them to travel to Hollywood together.  Will things end happily for the mismatched pair?  Almost certainly not.

Despite Edgar Ulmer’s Detour not being a perfect film on a technical level, I just can’t deny how impressive it is for what the cast and crew were working with.  On paper it shouldn’t have been anywhere near as successful as it was, but here we are exactly seventy years later still talking about and analyzing it!  I’ve mentioned the notorious shadows associated with the genre, and this film is no exception to the rule.  There’s a scene where Al and his girlfriend Sue are so shrouded in thick fog that you can hardly even see the pair.  The lighting works incredibly well for the budgetary limitations, and the script and dialogue are more than competent.  It even features lines like “I was tusslin’ with the most dangerous animal in the world – a woman!”, you just can’t beat that hilariously noir way of writing dialogue!  It’s very interesting to me that Tom Neal’s own life would eventually mirror his character Al Roberts’ luck in Detour.  Roberts almost can’t help but accidentally kill his road-mates, and in real life Neal would be sentenced for manslaughter after shooting his spouse after a heated argument and subsequent struggle over a gun.

It’s hard to write about Detour in too much detail, as the film is only 67 minutes long, making it an incredibly brief viewing experience.  The film is full of delicious film noir tropes, but somehow manages to feel fresh and more competent than it actually is.  Snappy dialogue, two actors with great chemistry, and a short run-time make for a well-deserved cult classic.  Despite having everything seemingly working against it, Detour is a terrific film and I’m very glad that I gave it a chance!  If every film noir I see this month is even half as good as Ulmer’s film, then I’m going to be one happy man.  Detour is highly recommended.

Noirvember Feature #1 – Laura (1944)

Laura (1944)
Directed by: Otto Preminger
Written by: Jay Dratler, Samuel Hoffenstein, Betty Reinhardt, Ring Lardner, Jr. (based on Laura by Vera Caspary)
Starring: Gene Tierney, Dana Andrews, Clifton Webb, Vincent Price, Judith Anderson

Otto Preminger is a director who skirts the fine line between mainstream classic cinema, and obscure or cult classic cinema.  1944’s film noir Laura was arguably his most successful film ever, earning him his first of two Academy Award nominations for Best Director, along with a slew of other nominations at that years Oscar ceremony, including Cinematography (the only award won by the film), Best Supporting Actor for Clifton Webb, Best Screenplay, and Best Art Direction.  Preminger is a director who I’ve struggled with since getting serious about the world of film, with his movies being quiet and largely dialogue-based, mostly lacking in grand set pieces like many films of the time.  He’s a filmmaker who I’ll probably explore in further detail in the future, so look out for that.

Our cast of characters: Waldo Lydecker (Clifton Webb), Laura Hunt (Gene Tierney), Shelby Carpenter (Vincent Prince), and detective Mark McPherson (Dana Andrews).

Preminger’s Laura sees detective Mark McPherson (played incredibly by Dana Andrews) investigating the apparent murder of a young woman named Laura Hunt (the lovely Gene Tierney).  The circumstances behind Laura’s death are shrouded in mystery, and came at the result of a shotgun shell to the face from somebody close to her.  Our prime suspects in the case are the eccentric and charismatic Waldo Lydecker (which netted an Academy Award nomination for Clifton Webb), and Laura’s fiance Shelby Carpenter (a very young Vincent Price).  While on the case, detective McPherson comes to find that few of his suspects and witnesses have anything bad to say about the young beauty, and eventually begins to obsess over a dead woman he’s never even met.  Fortunately for our intense detective, Laura may not exactly be as dead as she appeared to be just days before.  But her sudden reappearance begs many questions: who was then murdered with the shotgun?  Did the culprit think they had killed Laura Hunt?  How did such a brutal crime turn so messy?  I won’t spoil the film for anybody who hasn’t seen it, but those questions and more are answered in an incredibly tense and twist-filled finale.  

Laura is without a doubt one of the seminal film noirs of the 1940’s, influencing the genre in a big way with its terrific femme fatale character, as well as a cast of potential murder suspects, all with their own motives and unique personalities.  The character of Laura is constantly shrouded in mystery, even when the woman herself is standing right before your very eyes.  Dana Andrews’ detective McPherson is incredibly compelling as our lead character, both in his obsession with an apparent dead woman and his knack for picking up on subtle clues and hints throughout the film.  McPherson never seems surprised by any developments in the case, nor does he seem taken aback when things don’t go according to plan.  The film is dark and full of those trademark noir shadows, billowing cigarette smoke, and superbly narrated flashbacks that perfectly play with the timeline of the film in order to give backstory and break up any possible monotony in the investigation. We learn about the mystique of Laura’s character through these flashbacks, told by Clifton Webb’s Waldo Lydecker, a man every bit as obsessed with the young lady as our main character is.

The titular Laura (Gene Tierney) and Shelby Carpenter (Vincent Price) in Otto Preminger’s 1944 noir masterpiece Laura.

The genre of film noir is often criticized for being very similar in tone, story, and storytelling techniques, but I can’t agree with this criticism at all.  Otto Preminger’s Laura is a masterpiece in the genre, weaving an incredibly tense and mysterious story chock full of complex and layered characters, and a thrilling story that never fails to keep you guessing, even after you think you might’ve figured it all out.  The beauty of film noir is that not only do you get to watch all the procedures of an investigation by your main character, but you get to be an investigator yourself.  While the film may not be completely unique by today’s standards. the power it holds over the audience for the short 90-minute run-time is incomparable.  There’s a great deal of fun had in trying to figure out which of these characters has murdered “Laura”, and why on earth somebody would kill somebody that everybody holds in such high-esteem.  The performances throughout the film are terrific, with the standout being the Oscar-nominated turn by Clifton Webb.  Lead characters Dana Andrews and Gene Tierney have terrific on-screen chemistry, never being boring or a chore to watch.  Everything they do and say to each other seems completely natural.  The young horror-icon Vincent Price is also a blast to watch, and his presence in the film genuinely surprised me.  Laura’s cinematography is the cherry on top of this delicious film noir sundae, bringing the classic long shadows and smoky rooms to life in front of your eyes.  Preminger’s Laura is an incredible example of why the film noir genre works so well when it’s truly great, and a perfect reason why myself and many others are still so enamored by the genre.  Laura is terrific in almost every way, and has aged better than many films of the era.  It comes highly recommended.

November Theme – Film Noir

After setting a personal goal to cover one theme for an entire month and actually being able to stick with it, I’ve found an incredible amount of inspiration and motivation in continuing to write about films, whether people out there or reading or not.  Having some sort of theme, no matter how strict or loose, gives me something to look forward to for an entire month, and has already taught me a great deal about writing and about films.  I’ve finally seen documentaries that I’ve been putting off for years now, and I hope to do the same with many different genres, movements, and filmmakers throughout the life of this blog. While I don’t think I’m a terrific writer by any means, being able to have some sort of creative outlet in my life feels incredible, and I plan on seeing this thing out to the bitter end.  There comes a point where endlessly listening to film podcasts, browsing discussions and reviews online, and thinking day and night about movies just isn’t enough, which is why I’ve decided to write.  This is something I’m incredibly passionate about, and boy is it a great feeling to finally get my thoughts out there without constantly worrying about views and being self-conscious of my own writing style.

I’ve decided the theme for November is going to be an introduction to the film noir genre, and will officially titled Noirvember.  You may ask yourself, what exactly is film noir?  Well, that’s a terrific question, and hopefully you’ll bear with me in order to find out.  Film noir is a genre of crime film that was immensely popular during the 1940’s and 1950’s, featuring expressionistic black and white cinematography, shadows, fog, and thick clouds of cigarette smoke, notoriously unhappy endings, fedoras and shabby suits, and most famously femme fatales – strong women who often blur the line between wanting to love and kill our main character.  Film noir is without a doubt one of the most iconic and famous American film genres, sitting beside its polar-opposite neighbor, the Western. These films are concise, fun, full of dread and betrayal on all sides, and are infinitely re-watchable as a result.

The pioneers of the film noir genre include the famous Hollywood bad boy Orson Welles, with films like Touch of Evil and The Lady from Shanghai, Polish export auteur Billy Wilder for the iconic Double Indemnity and Sunset Blvd., John Huston for The Maltese Falcon, The Asphalt Jungle, and Key Largo, and Fritz Lang for Scarlet Street and The Big Heat among many others.  These are films that have often been parodied and poked fun at, but the influence they hold over modern filmmakers is unparalleled, as are the reputations of many of these incredible and timeless works. To keep things fresh, I’ve decided to only tackle films that I have never seen before.  The tentative schedule for Noirvember is as follows:

#1 – Laura (1944) (dir. Otto Preminger) – November 1

#2 – Detour (1945) (dir. Edgar G. Ulmer) – November 5

#3 – The Killers (1946) (dir. Robert Siodmak) – November 8

#4 – Nightmare Alley (1947) (dir. Edmund Goulding) – November 12

#5 – They Live by Night (1948) (dir. Nicholas Ray) – November 15

#6 – The Big Clock (1948) (dir. John Farrow) – November 19

#7 – D.O.A. (1950) (dir. Rudolph Mate) – November 22

#8 – Night and the City (1950) (dir. Jules Dassin) – November 26

#9 – Kiss Me Deadly (1955) (dir. Robert Aldrich) – November 29

#10 – Touch of Evil (1958) (dir. Orson Welles) – November 30