No Man of Her Own

Tags

1950's, Barbara Stanwyck, Drama, Film Noir, Henry O'Neill, Jane Cowl, John Lund, Lyle Bettger, Mitchell Leisen, No Man of Her Own

I was asked by the lovely Maddy and amazing Crystal to take part in a blogathon honouring the one of a kind Barbara Stanwyck. Naturally I jumped at the chance to write about this powerhouse of an actress.

Director

Mitchell Leisen

Starring

• Barbara Stanwyck as Helen Ferguson/ Patrice Harkness
• John Lund as Bill Harkness
• Lyle Bettger as Steve Morley
• Jane Cowl as Mrs Harkness
• Henry O’Neill as Mr Harkness

A drama about a desperate mother taking on another identity, No Man of Her Own is tinged with a film noir style atmosphere which is largely beneficial. And even if the story has moments you have to take with a pinch of salt, Barbara Stanwyck and some nice, efficient direction are two major assets to the film and ones that aid it.

Helen Ferguson is pregnant by her louse of a man, Steve Morley. He cruelly discards her even though she barely has any money and will be left an unwed mother. All Steve does is give her a ticket from New York to San Francisco, which is Helen’s original home. With nowhere to turn, Helen who is eight months pregnant, boards to the train to an uncertain future. She is shown kindness on the train by recently married couple, Hugh and Patrice Harkness. Patrice is also pregnant and shows great mercy to the struggling Helen. While they are getting ready for the next stop, the train is involved in a catastrophic crash. Helen survives and is taken to hospital, where her baby is delivered. Patrice and Hugh die almost immediately after the train crashes. As she is wearing the wedding ring of Patrice(which she was minding while the real Patrice was washing) and is pregnant, Helen is mistaken for the dead woman. And as her affluent in-laws never met her, they assume that Helen is in fact their new daughter in law. Delirious, she tries to explain the truth, but everyone thinks she is still suffering from trauma and is not aware of what she is saying. Although she feels guilty and torn about taking her place in the family by lying, she’s so desperate that she can’t help but accept the open arms of the loving family. The mother and father are so very kind and Hugh’s brother Bill takes an almost immediate liking to her. As time goes on, life turns good for Helen as she assumes the place of Patrice and finally feels welcome somewhere, possibly for the first time in her life. But her happiness takes a turn when the twisted Steve shows up in her life again. He plots to blackmail her and asks for money to secure his silence. Helen is once more thrown into another predicament that could have terrible ramifications, just as her life was becoming comfortable and she was feeling accepted. Desperate times it seems call for even more desperate measures.

No Man of Her Own is  a combination of the woman’s picture and film noir. Though that may sound like a strange hybrid, with the deft hand of Mitchell Leisen at the helm, it largely coalesces well and has some fine atmosphere. From the opening of a peaceful middle class street, accompanied by the ominous voice over from Stanwyck, it captures the attention a lot as you aren’t sure which way No Man of Her Own will go. As darkness grows, a noir atmosphere of dread and desperation is never far behind Helen, with shadows and plays of light helping to show her in a very hard predicament. But you’re with her every step of the way and aligned with her attempts for a better life and to improve that of her child. Some leaps of faith need to be taken with some elements of the story and how neatly they fall in place. In the second half, the pace hits a bit of a lull but is thankfully rescued by watching Helen formulate a plan to rid herself of the loathsome. It’s only when the ending arrives that some of the greatness was supplanted as it feels a little too wrapped up and cheery for such a serious story. But despite these flaws, No Man of Her Own is immensely watchable in my eyes. A grand musical score compliments the atmosphere and emotion of the piece in that special way it seems only old movies can do.

Holding everything together is the powerful Barbara Stanwyck. Always someone who 100% to any role, No Man of Her Own is no exception. Exhibiting pain, relief, desperation and doubt, often within seconds of the other, Stanwyck is never short of compelling here. It’s all there in her face and we feel every ounce of emotion to it, and just how expressive it is. Even when the story stretches credulity, it is the determined Barbara Stanwyck that brings everything back together and worth watching. Stanwyck is a powerhouse no matter what she does. John Lund is a tad wooden as a possible suitor for Helen, but he gets better as the movie progresses. Exuding weasel tendencies and a nasty glimmer in his eye, Lyle Bettger is superbly cast as the main antagonist who could jeopardise what Helen has tried to do in order for a better life. Believe me, he’s one nasty piece of work. Rounding out things are Jane Cowl and Henry O’Neill as two lovely and welcoming in-laws.

Though it’s far from a perfect film, No Man of Her Own survives via the committed Siri of Barbara Stanwyck and the stylistic look of the film. These are elements that you will remember after viewing this movie.

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The Hitch-Hiker

Tags

1950's, Edmond O'Brien, Film Noir, Frank Lovejoy, Ida Lupino, The Hitch-Hiker, Thriller, William Talman

To kick off the female filmmakers series I am doing this February, we have The Hitch-Hiker. Be sure to tune into more female directed movies this month and see if any catch your interest.

Film Title

The Hitch-Hiker

Director

Ida Lupino

Starring

• William Talman as Emmett Myers
• Frank Lovejoy as Gilbert Bowen
• Edmond O’Brien as Roy Collins

A taut and very tense noirish thriller from Ida Lupino, The Hitch-Hiker, thanks to her sure hand keeps events ticking over with a real sense of suspense and possible terror. Taking basis from a real-life serial killer and his reign of terror, The Hitch-Hiker keeps you constantly invested and intrigued as events go on.

Friends Gilbert Bowen and Roy Collins are on their way to a fishing trip in Mexico with nothing in the way of eventfulness planned. Little do they realise that their planned fishing trip is about to take a possibly deadly detour. For they come across one Emmett Myers, who they think has just broken down and needs a ride. Offering him a lift, they soon discover he is a wanted criminal who has murdered a number of people who he has hitched a ride off. At gunpoint, Myers forces Gilbert and Roy to take him into Mexico and into the desert filled areas. He is attempting to evade the authorities and wishes to get to the town of Santa Rosalia in hopes of escape. Myers constantly toys with both men, tormenting them with his disregard and hatred for humanity. Both men try to think of ways to escape from the clutches of Myers, but it proves difficult. Chief among the struggle is the fact that Myers has one eye that never closes, making it incredibly hard for Roy and Gilbert to flee. Can both men manage to not be worn down and discover a way to survive what promises to be deadly if they don’t cooperate?

Ida Lupino, who was at the time of the film’s making one of the only female directors in the business, acquits herself well with this unnerving thriller by taking a simple premise and making it gritty and appropriately grim. She taps into the shared fear of strangers and what they could possibly hide or bring to you in unexpected circumstances. As well as this, we get the uneasiness of how events that take place in The Hitch-Hiker could very well happen in real life. Being stopped by someone you don’t know in a place you are unfamiliar with is a very real terror that I’m certain everyone has thought of in their lifetime, enabling The Hitch-Hiker to be all that more successful at the taut vision it is going for. And speaking of real life, The Hitch-Hiker takes influence from a case of murders committed by Billy Cook. He was the man behind a 22 day spree of murder before he was captured and sent to the gas chamber. Knowing that this has influenced the movie itself, we watch as Lupino fashions a claustrophobic noir that instead of featuring a big city, uses the vast deserts of Mexico for its setting. Taking place in the mountainous regions and for the most part in the car that is hijacked, we feel like we’re in just as much of a jam as Gilbert and Roy find themselves in. And even though noir was often seen as a masculine genre, Ida Lupino shows herself to be just as good as her male counterparts in directing. It’s truly great to see a pioneering lady in action behind the camera. And the pace of the film, which clocks in at just 71 minutes, is economical and straight to the point of things in terms of the suspense. The climax may lack that bit of oomph, but everything else is right on the money and very taut. On the visual front, the looming surroundings and the tightness of the car provide ample opportunities for style in the noir fashion. A suitably tense score highlights the uneasiness of both men as they are nearly broke down by Myers and his evil.

Sweaty, sleazy and nasty evil is exuded by William Talman as the eponymous killer. Talman just has something sinister about him right from the first moment we clap eyes on him. This pays dividends as his performance is extremely mercurial and sly; watching him attempt to break the friendship between is genuinely creepy viewing. Frank Lovejoy and Edmond O’Brien underplay things nicely, with a realistic terror and sense of hopelessness, tinged with the possibility for both to save the day if they can. Both actors are stalwart performers who you really believe as regular Joe’s caught in a most alarming and dark situation.

A grim, dark and well-paced movie, The Hitch-Hiker displays the talents of Ida Lupino as a director to be reckoned with.

Gilda

Tags

1940's, Charles Vidor, Film Noir, George Macready, Gilda, Glenn Ford, Rita Hayworth

Film Title

Gilda

Director

Charles Vidor

Starring

• Rita Hayworth as Gilda
• Glenn Ford as Johnny Farrell
• George Macready as Ballin Mundson

A seductive film noir that boasts a star-making, iconic turn from Rita Hayworth, Gilda is a dark movie to be treasured for how it spins a pretty sinister story into something classic and watchable.

In Buenos Aires, Argentina, newly arrived thug Johnny Farrell is going about his cheating ways of getting money through trickery and underhand tactics. After being accosted and almost killed by a disgruntled crabs player, Johnny is saved by the elegant Ballin Mundson. This strange man warns Johnny that he must up his game if he wants to make a living. Johnny eventually finds his way to a casino where he continues his dirty tricks. He is caught and put before the owner, who turns out to be Mundson himself. Johnny being something of a con man, talks his way into a job with Mundson. Gradually, he gains his confidence and makes his way up the ranks and into a lavish lifestyle that he’s aspired for. While retaining a friendship with his boss, there is something controlling about Mundson, as he seems to consider Johnny something he owns. Regardless of this, things go well for the two of them in their relationship, trust and business. Things take a definite turn when Mundson returns after some time away with a gorgeous and playful wife named Gilda. The thing is Johnny and Gilda are very familiar with each other, stemming from an old love affair that ended badly. Being loyal to his boss, Johnny tries to avoid his definite attraction to the seductive Gilda, who delights in putting on a show and seemingly tormenting him with her wiles. Mundson is also involved in some scheme that proves life threatening, just as the heat between Johnny and Gilda comes into view. Though both attempt to keep the lid on their feelings, it proves very difficult. Yet with the love-hate relationship between Johnny and mysterious Gilda intensifying, it’s just a matter of time before things get out of hand and much darkness arrives for all of them.

Charles Vidor infuses a stylish direction into this all-consuming tale, lending something of a voyeuristic approach to how we observe the gradually twisted triangle set up among Gilda, Johnny and Mundson. His control over pacing is marvellous, never wasting a second and pulling us into this seedy world populated by equally immoral people. The black and white cinematography is gorgeously smoky and shimmering, finding a glamour, danger and tension in the main setting of the casino. Shadowy deals paired with the overall feeling of everyone using each other is noir at its grandest and finest. Gilda brims with a darkness and sexual underbelly that go hand in hand. It is a playful yet dark hearted film noir that has a lot of things going on under the curtain. Of course, with the film being from the 40’s, you couldn’t explicitly showcase anything too graphic or racy. And yet through its sizzling dialogue( much of which has many meanings depending on how you look at it), a real perverse angle covers the film in a surprisingly stylish way. The trio of main characters are all nasty, vindictive and rotten ,yet you can’t tear your eyes away from them as their machinations and web-spinning gets out of control. They all appear to enjoy toying with each other for whatever pleasure they can get, even if it ultimately leads to their undoing. This is significantly highlighted by the back and forth of the script that knows exactly how to avert the censors with witty words and subtle hints. Control and power play heavily into the narrative, with the troika of characters all using it in some ways; essays it over both Johnny and Gilda, while the eponymous siren wields it in abundance over the two men in the picture . Dominance is thematically featured, most notably in homoerotic undertones between Johnny and Mundson , thanks to the suggestive and ambiguous dialogue. If some of it gets overly complex, it is quickly forgotten because of the tension and heat of the piece, with everything fit to boil at any minute. Being a classic movie, there are oodles of memorable moments from Gilda to cherish, but two stand out. The first is the entrance of Gilda herself; tossing her hair back in wild abandon, before realising that someone from her past is now very much a part of her present. And the most iconic moment is the sensational performance of ‘Put the Blame on Mame’. Gilda, clad in that memorable dress and slowly removing a satin glove, teases playfully with this song of how men blame women for their downfall. While being a sexy scene(showing that you can be seductive without revealing a lot), a pointed darkness is also apparent in further enhancing the perverse nature of this noir.

By far the thing you’ll remember the most in Gilda is the presence of the luscious Rita Hayworth in the title part. Conveying a devastating gorgeousness that is truly spellbinding and a mysterious personality that is hard to place, Hayworth commands the screen and cemented herself as a Love Goddess of the screen. For all the sexiness brought to it, Hayworth’s fine acting also adds a distinct melancholy that punctuates in between the scheming and alluring appeal. This is a role that will forever be remembered, largely down to Rita Hayworth’s impact and charms in it. Glenn Ford is ideal casting for the no-good small time Johnny, whose want for something comfortable and rich is compromised by his desire for Gilda that leaves him falling down. Ford gets the sneaky, wastrel like areas just right, coupling it with a ruthless need to succeed in things, until his anger and lust can’t take it. And his scenes with Hayworth are loaded with simmering tension. George Macready rounds out this twisted trio with a courtly yet menacing display of cunning and trickery, constantly testing everyone around him to see what the results will be.

A dazzlingly dark and twisted noir covered in a gorgeously photographed sheen, Gilda is not to be missed by movie fans.

Sorry, Wrong Number

Tags

1940's, Anatole Litvak, Ann Richards, Barbara Stanwyck, Burt Lancaster, Ed Begley, Film Noir, Harold Vermilyea, Sorry Wrong Number, Thriller, Wendell Corey, William Conrad

Film Title

Sorry, Wrong Number

Director

Anatole Litvak

Starring

• Barbara Stanwyck as Leona Stevenson
• Burt Lancaster as Henry Stevenson
• Ann Richards as Sally Hunt Lord
• Wendell Corey as Dr. Alexander
• Harold Vermilyea as Waldo Evans
• Ed Begley as James Cotterell
• William Conrad as Morano

A well paced and inventively structured film noir thriller, Sorry, Wrong Number makes fantastic use of its setting and unfolding of dark mystery to form a tight and tense movie. Expanding on a famous radio play yet keeping a certain flair for drama in a limited setting, plus a fine cast headed by Barbara Stanwyck and Burt Lancaster, Sorry, Wrong Number is recommended viewing for noir and thriller fans who will no doubt find it very satisfying.

Leona Stevenson is a demanding, selfish heiress who is largely bed-ridden and when we meet her, alone in her Manhattan apartment. She gets more than she bargained for when she accidentally overhears a phone conversation(thanks to a telephone glitch) between two men, plotting and arranging a woman’s murder that very night. Leona has been trying to reach her husband Henry, who works for her father’s pharmaceutical chain, but hasn’t been able to locate. Panicking over the horrible plot she overhears, she becomes desperate to stop it happening. The fact that she only caught little bits of the conversation doesn’t help when she calls the police, due to a lack of clear evidence. Calling whoever she can think of for attempted help or news on Henry, through various flashbacks, revealing events and machinations fall into place regarding everyone it covers. We see Sally Hunt Lord, who was once romantically linked with Henry, Leona’s Doctor Alexander who holds important information about her, her controlling father James, a chemist named Waldo Evans, a mysterious gangster Morano and of course Henry himself, who we glimpse as feeling emasculated and weak thanks to his overbearing spouse. An underhand and malevolent scheme is also found here, but just how does it link to Leona and the planned murder? Growing more anxious and distressed as pieces slowly come into fruition but still remain confusing, Leona is left to decipher them before it is too late.

Anatole Litvak dials up the suspense with skill, letting the film play out largely in real-time and lets us discover many alarming things without spoon-feeding them to us. His control over ambience is also evident in how the mystery is gradually evinced and how it turns out differently than one might have wondered. Often times in some movies, flashbacks can often feel more than a bit redundant and overused. The same can’t be said of Sorry, Wrong Number, as the dips into the past are crucial to our understanding of the characters and their reasons for actions that may come back in some dark form. Sorry, Wrong Number provides a great exercise in visual style with panoramic and gliding camera shots that take in important details that tell parts of the story in a teasing but imperative way. The characters have a sense of change in them from the flashbacks to present, further giving a level of both distrust and curiosity. There is a heightened paranoia and isolation as Leona is prone to overreacting but thus time is telling the truth and all alone in her apartment. The home is often somewhere we consider safe which is reversed here. Then again, the nefarious and murky atmosphere of outside as the various facets of the puzzle come together is equally as dark. There is no real place of safety, which plays beautifully into the sinister heart of film noir and allows the film to have the feelings of a pitch-black noir. The twists are complex and unexpected, yet only sometimes confusing, thankfully the shocking nature of it all is intact and on display. Drama and genuine menace can be heard in the fine score by the amazing Franz Waxman, who really knew how to ramp up tension and suspense with his music.

Barbara Stanwyck impressively heads the cast as the pampered heiress Leona, whose night is turned into waking hours of terror once she hears the murder plot. Stanwyck strongly gets across the various mood swings and changes from past to present of the character, that are very intriguing to watch. Moving from self-absorbed and entitled to terrified and near mental collapse as everything unravels, Stanwyck covers it all with the assurance of the great pro she was. Her biggest achievement is that she telegraphs that Leona is not just some innocent victim in all of this, but a manipulative and petulant woman who we still feel some form of sympathy for in her time of horror. Burt Lancaster plays with his somewhat tough guy image to find something spineless and tired within husband Henry. While there is darkness to him, we aren’t quite sure to what extent it will emerge, mainly due to the excellence of Lancaster in the part. He may just be misunderstood or possibly to easily lead into something fishy , Lancaster suggests a mixture of both. There is a good ensemble of supporting characters played by great actors, who somehow or another slot into this mystery. Ann Richards is quietly convincing as a former flame of Henry’s, while Wendell Corey supplies us with much knowledge as the doctor. Probably the most sympathetic character is the chemist who is somehow sucked into the dark web of dealings, and played with understated gravitas by Harold Vermilyea. Ed Begley and William Conrad flesh out the other two people who have bearing on the complex story.

A tense and efficient noir, Sorry, Wrong Number is just the ticket for when you want some murky thriller of complex motives, nice performances and atmosphere to watch.

The Big Sleep

Tags

1940's, Charles Waldron, Crime, Dorothy Malone, Elisha Cook Jr, Film Noir, Howard Hawks, Humphrey Bogart, John Ridgely, Lauren Bacall, Martha Vickers, The Big Sleep, Thriller

Film Title

The Big Sleep

Director

Howard Hawks

Starring

• Humphrey Bogart as Philip Marlowe
• Lauren Bacall as Vivian Rutledge
• John Ridgely as Eddie Mars
• Martha Vickers as Carmen Sternwood
• Charles Waldron as General Sternwood
• Dorothy Malone as Book Shop Girl
• Elisha Cook Jr. as Harry Jones

A film noir thriller at its most complex and convoluted, The Big Sleep is cryptic but endlessly entertaining stuff. With a real feel for the dark material shown by director Howard Hawks and the sultry chemistry between Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall, The Big Sleep keeps you glued.

World weary and intelligent private detective Philip Marlowe is summoned to the home of the old General Sternwood. The elderly and frail man is concerned about his youngest daughter Carmen, who has a reputation for being loose. She has had compromising photos taken of herself and someone is using the sordid images to blackmail Sternwood. The person that appears to be behind the blackmailing is a man named Geiger, whose book store doubles as a crime racket. The General also wants Marlowe to locate Shawn Regan, a confidante close to the family who has disappeared strangely. While at the house, Marlowe also encounters older sister Vivian, a more cool and collected lady who knows how to flirt with him, yet keep something of a distance. Investigating further into muddy waters, he finds that the blackmailing crime racket ties with the missing Shawn Regan, though Marlowe is bewildered by how they could possibly do so. Just as he gets close, Geiger is murdered, complicating matters even more. Yet it also transpires that Vivian may also have some involvement in the sinister activities as nearby shady casino owner Eddie Mars appears to have a strange hold on her that she desperately attempts to remain hidden. Quickly, Marlowe is sucked into a seedy world of corruption and double crosses where he is desperate to find answers, as everything is spun in a web of underhand tricks and cloak and dagger activities.

Howard Hawks majestically gets the hard-boiled aura of this Raymond Chandler adaptation, coating everything in a shadowy and seedy vibe as Marlowe journeys into a corrupt underworld of suspicion and classic noir. The black and white cinematography is employed in a pretty amazing way with chiaroscuro taking precedent here and making the atmosphere tangible to the audience from the smoky opening titles. Now I must talk about the plot of The Big Sleep, as it is one mystifying and at times very confusing puzzle. This is actually far from a criticism of this film noir thriller, because it grasps the attention, gets you to pay attention and often moves at such a blistering pace, you won’t realise certain things that don’t add up. Sure everything is pretty cryptic and has you scratching your head, but oh what fun there is to be gained from this movie because of its pace and sexual tension, that are kept on high from start to end. What really brings a film like The Big Sleep to life is the scintillating screenplay, that practically bursts with repartee and innuendo that is some of the most sexual dialogue to be found in a movie from the 40’s, when the censors where usually on full patrol to eliminate anything suggestive . The script takes full advantage of the Bogart/Bacall relationship on and off-screen and serves up some double entendre laden exchanges that push the boat out on risqué (be sure to check the scene between Marlowe and Vivian in which she uses horse-riding and saddles as a reference to another physical activity.) As dark and mysterious as the film is, heck it brings new meaning to the word confounding, there is a playful spirit tone gleaned among all the dodgy dealings, blackmail and sleazy events that are usually hinted at rather than shown. Max Steiner is on score duties and transfers every ounce of tension and stunning sexiness to the viewer, matching the dark yet enticing underbelly The Big Sleep has to offer.

Humphrey Bogart heads up things with a fine performance as the iconic detective Philip Marlowe. Bogart impressively injects the part with cynicism, a quick talking attitude and weariness from all the years on the job. You couldn’t have asked for anyone better than Bogart to essay this part, which he plays with charm, dashes of dry humour and smarts that tell him to keep looking for the outcome of a most baffling case. He is simply on point during the whole run of this movie and makes it look effortless. Lauren Bacall practically oozes confidence and enigmatic sexuality as Vivian, whose feisty encounters and suspicious behaviour form a lot of the proceedings, particularly as Marlowe finds himself falling for her. Bacall was only in her early 20’s in this film, yet she has the innate ability to project the impression of a young woman who has seen a lot, seems to be in control and is adept at being secretive. Having already showed their undeniable chemistry in To Have and Have Not, Bogart and Bacall pretty much set the screen ablaze here, as they once more trade innuendos and tantalizing dialogue that flows from their lips like vintage whiskey. You simply couldn’t have asked for a better pairing than Bogart and Bacall, as they where exceptional together, both on film and in reality. John Ridgely has enough slimy energy and enigmatic ways to keep the shady Eddie Mars memorable in the long run. Martha Vickers features as the childlike and coy sister whose extracurricular activities are the start of Marlowe’s investigation into the unknown. A stately presence is to be found in the work of Charles Waldron as the old General calling upon the skills of Marlowe to eliminate the scandal surrounding his daughter. Popping up in small but still memorable parts, there is Dorothy Malone as a coquettish book shop worker and Elisha Cook Jr. as a very tragic fall guy who comes off badly within the darkness in doomed fashion.

As mystifying and mysterious as it all is, The Big Sleep earns its status as a classic noir due to the hard-boiled style and the iconic partnership of Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall.

The Letter

Tags

1940's, Bette Davis, Film Noir, Gale Sondergaard, Herbert Marshall, James Stephenson, Melodrama, Sen Yung, The Letter, William Wyler

Film Title

The Letter

Director

William Wyler

Starring

• Bette Davis as Leslie Crosbie
• Herbert Marshall as Robert Crosbie
• James Stephenson as Howard Joyce
• Gale Sondergaard as Mrs. Hammond
• Sen Yung as Ong Chi Seng

A tautly directed melodrama, with the shadows of Film Noir covering it, The Letter boasts atmosphere and a terrific performance by Bette Davis.

In Malaya, the calm of a moonlit night on a plantation is disturbed by the sound of a gun. Out of the main house stumbles a wounded man, followed by a woman with a pistol in hand. She unloads the rest of the chambers into his body and calmly watches him die. The woman is Leslie Crosbie, the wife of the plantation owner Robert. The man she shot dead was Geoff Hammond, a respected friend of Robert’s with whom she was having an affair. Robert returns to his wife, who begins to formulate a story to save herself. Playing the act of demure and vulnerable wife( when the reality is that she’s a master manipulator), she tells her attorney Howard Joyce that Hammond made repeated advances on her and she shot him in self-defence. While Robert believes his wife’s alibi, Joyce is more suspicious, even though he is the one representing her in the inevitable trial. Matters become complicated when Joyce’s clerk Ong Chi Seng comes to him with information that could change the outcome of the trial. It seems that Leslie wrote a letter to Hammond on the night she killed him asking him to come and see her as Robert would be away. This evidence could alter the case and imprison the conniving Leslie. The letter has fell into the hands of Hammond’s exotic widow, who demands money for it or she will turn it over to the court. Building tension and sweltering atmosphere combine as Leslie’s lies continue and the intense drama reaches its heights.

William Wyler masterfully directs with deft skill, creating a stifling ambience of lies, murder and the manipulative mind of one woman. Although the story can be seen as melodrama, it does have a certain edge that doesn’t let it slip into tosh, this is mainly down to the excellence of Wyler’s direction and the way he crafts this deceptive tale of murder and lies. The striking use of black and white highlights the Film Noir aspects of the story, with shadows and strange camera angles capturing the rising suspicion and inevitable drama. The score provided is a valuable asset to The Letter, cloaking it in an exotic and menacing aura that rises and falls along with the heated emotions and dark deception at play. The costume design is simply exemplary, especially in the gowns worn by the sly and cold-hearted Leslie. Most of them are white which makes her appear angelic to those around her, but the audience knows that there is a dark heart that lies beneath this masquerade.

Bette Davis is one fine form portraying Leslie, clearly relishing the sly, ruthless and calculating nature of the character. This is a character that Davis plays so well and always in control, but she also lets us see the panic that begins to appear when the existence of the eponymous letter comes to light. The film is Davis’ and she brings her all to the part. Herbert Marshall is suitably naive as Leslie’s husband, who sees her as a virtuous angel. James Stephenson excellently plays Howard, the attorney who is the first to see through the deception of Leslie, but is bound by law to remain silent of his knowledge of this. Gale Sondergaard brings silent, feline menace to the role of Hammond’s exotic and unsmiling widow, whose stare alone gives new meaning to the term ‘if looks could kill’. Sen Yung is used well as Joyce’s informative clerk, who becomes the first to discover the letter and what it could do to the case.

William Wyler’s The Letter brings drama to Film Noir and succeeds with aplomb, thanks to stylish direction, excellent score and central performance from Bette Davis.

 

 

 

L.A. Confidential

Tags

1990's, Crime, Curtis Hanson, Danny DeVito, Drama, Film Noir, Guy Pearce, James Cromwell, James Ellroy, Kevin Spacey, Kim Basinger, L.A. Confidential, Neo Noir, Russell Crowe

Film Title

L.A. Confidential

Director

Curtis Hanson

Cast

• Kevin Spacey as Det. Sgt. Jack Vincennes
• Russell Crowe as Officer Wendell “Bud ” White
• Guy Pearce as Det. Lt. Edmund “Ed” Exley
• James Cromwell as Capt. Dudley Smith
• Kim Basinger as Lynn Bracken
• Danny DeVito as Sid Hudgens

Based on the novel by James Ellroy and boasting an excellent ensemble cast, L.A. Confidential takes the viewer on an intricate journey into the 50’s, exposing corruption and murder beneath the veneer of glamour and bright lights along the way. Director Curtis Hanson has fashioned an elegant, brutal and thoroughly convincing neo noir that grips you with its labyrinthine plot, excellent jazz score and perfect feel for the time.

The main focus of the film is three members of the Los Angeles Police Department; suave and confident Jack Vincennes who enjoys the limelight in Hollywood, Bud White, whose violent and hot-headed antics often clash with others and intelligent upstart Ed Exley, who does everything by the book and longs to be just as good as his late father. The paths of the three men first cross at a Christmas Party, in which prisoners and police begin brawling in the cells and the paparazzi have a field day with the story, dubbing it “Bloody Christmas”. After a massacre at a restaurant named the Nite Owl, in which one of the men’s fellow officers is killed, the men are drawn together again in order to solve the case.This case leads them through many twists and turns involving corruption within the police force, the scandal loving magazine “Hush Hush”, a prostitution ring in which the women are made to resemble movie stars, drug dealing and long-buried secrets.

The pacing of the film is magnificent, slowly revealing and concealing things to keep the viewer guessing what will happen next. The cast assembled add immeasurable impact to the story as it gradually unravels before us. Spacey is excellent as the limelight loving Jack, adding humour and impact in his scenes. Guy Pearce is well-suited to his part of the determined Exley, who is driven to succeed whilst being ostracized by his peers. Russell Crowe makes an indelible mark as the violent and troubled Bud, getting under the skin of him and revealing a rarely shown sensitive side to his character. As a prostitute who is the spitting image of Veronica Lake and caught up in the ongoing investigation, Oscar-winning Kim Basinger adds both glamour and poignancy, especially as she and Bud begin to develop feeling for each other whilst he is working on the dangerous case.

Aided by stunning cinematography and an evocative jazz score, Los Angeles almost becomes another character within the film.It becomes  a hot bed of Hollywood high glamour, scandal loving people and deception round every corner. The humorous and barbed opening narration by Danny DeVito’s dirt loving tabloid journalist, in which footage from old movies and grainy paper headlines about drugs and illegal activities is shown while he speaks, clearly sums up this dichotomy of the place.

If you’re looking for a crime film with a noir sensibility and more twists than a winding serpent, then look no further than L.A. Confidential. Trust me you can’t go wrong with this excellent film.

Mildred Pierce

Tags

1940's, Ann Blyth, Drama, Eve Arden, Film Noir, Joan Crawford, Melodrama, Michael Curtiz, Mildred Pierce

Film Title

Mildred Pierce

Director

Michael Curtiz

Cast

• Joan Crawford as Mildred Pierce
• Jack Carson as Wally Fay
• Zachary Scott as Monte Beragon
• Ann Blyth as Veda Pierce
• Eve Arden as Ida Corwin
• Bruce Bennett as Bert Pierce

This film will always be remembered as the film that helped relaunch Joan Crawford’s stalling career, but there is more to this film that at first meets the eye. It is one of the quintessential women’s pictures of the 1940’s that effortlessly blends moments of film noir to heighten its dramatic tale of a mothers self-sacrificing journey to provide for her spoiled daughter. Strikingly photographed, superbly acted and featuring an evocative and intensely dramatic score by Max Steiner, Mildred Pierce is an emotional soap opera that never falls into sentimentality but keeps you glued to the screen as you watch the great Joan Crawford in her excellent comeback role that earned her a Best Actress Oscar.

Mildred Pierce begins with a literal bang, in a classic noir influenced moment. Gun shots ring out as a man clutches his bleeding chest and falls to the floor. Before he dies he breathlessly utters one word “Mildred”. The scene then switches to show the eponymous Mildred, clad in a stunning mink coat and walking a pier, tears beginning to stream down her face. This scene is outstanding as we don’t know whether Mildred has killed the man or not? The audience is unsure of her character at this point as she appears to be the epitome of the femme fatale commonly featured in film noir. We are unsure whether to sympathise with her or loathe her. As the story continues and she is taken into questioning by the police, she begins to narrate her story in flashback up until this point. This is where the film switches gear and examines the dramatic existence of Mildred and how she has changed considerably. She tells of how she slaved away as a waitress before opening a successful chain of restaurants, her sheer determined personality aiding her. Along the way she met rich playboy Monte, who fell for her but used her when he had money trouble. All of the events leading up to Monte’s opening death are influenced by the conniving Veda whose insatiable need for the expensive things drives the story of her determined mother Mildred.

Among the things that drew me to the film was its combination of melodrama with noir, I think this makes for an interesting combination. The performances also drew me in particularly the ones portrayed by Crawford and Blyth. As the determined Mildred, Crawford is outstanding as she embodies this hard-working character who will do anything for her daughter and runs the whole gamut of emotions throughout the movie.Her character is made very believable because of Crawford’s connection with her, many critics have said that Crawford was outstanding in a role when she related to it. I agree with this, but whatever the case Crawford delivers a memorable performance that proved  to Hollywood that she was a force to be reckoned with.  Equally impressive is the young Ann Blyth as the sneering, materialistic and spoilt Veda Pierce. The whole plot is influenced by her expensive needs and desires as Mildred does everything in her power to provide for her. Blyth makes an impressive mark as Veda, imbuing her with an arrogant and snobbish quality that is a clear difference from her self-sacrificing mother. Crawford and Blyth have a natural chemistry that makes their relationship interesting, especially in the moments when Mildred realises how spoilt and down right nasty her daughter really is.

Many would think that with all this highly charged drama there would be no let up. This isn’t the case as there are two characters that lighten up the proceedings. The first is Wally, a man who used to be in business with Mildred’s first husband who also has a soft spot for the eponymous Mildred. He has the most laughs in the film as her romantically chases her.  Jack Carson clearly has a laugh as Wally and his numerous unsuccessful attempts to woo Mildred. The other character is Ida Corwin, the wise cracking friend of Mildred who helped her when she was staring out. Her scenes with customers and lawyers in the restaurant are particularly funny as her dry sense of humour is often mistaken by others. Eve Arden creates a wise-cracking and charming chum that runs parallel with the determined and driven character of  Mildred.

Mildred Pierce can be viewed today as a melodrama that is very believable but also a story of a mother’s love and determination no matter what the cost. Even if old movies aren’t your thing, Mildred Pierce may change your mind with its stellar cast and outstanding production values.