Unmistakable Noir
One of the most interesting – and challenging – aspects of
classic film noir is the fact that it’s not a hard and fast, clear-cut genre.
There are countless films that are staunchly considered by some to fall in the
category of noir, and just as vehemently believed by others to be anything but
noir.
However!
There are some features that are undoubtedly, irrefutably,
unmistakably noir – they’ve got more femmes fatales and flashbacks than you can
shake a stick at – and this month’s Noir Nook kicks off a new limited series
that looks at these features, beginning with Double Indemnity. This
first-rate feature, released by Paramount Pictures in 1944, was directed by the
great Billy Wilder and co-written by Wilder and novelist Raymond Chandler.
I may have mentioned this once or twice before, but in case
I haven’t, Double Indemnity is my favorite noir. In a very succinct
nutshell, it tells the story of a married woman who teams with her insurance salesman
lover to murder her husband – and might have gotten away with it if not for
said insurance salesman’s supervisor, who had the instincts and determination
of a bloodhound.
Two archetypal noir characteristics are revealed in the
first few minutes of the film: voiceover narration and flashback. We see these after
the insurance agent, Walter Neff (Fred MacMurray), careens his way through the
deserted, early morning streets of Los Angeles, on his way to his office. Once
there, his Dictaphone – on which he records a letter to his boss, Barton Keyes
(Edward G. Robinson) – furnishes the means for the flashback that will last until
close to the film’s end. Similarly, that same recording to Keyes provides the
viewer with the thread that connects crucial scenes in the film, from Walter’s
first visit to the home of Phyllis Dietrichson (Barbara Stanwyck) and his introduction
– via photographs on the piano – to Mr. Dietrichson (Tom Powers) and his
daughter, Lola (Jean Heather); to the step-by-step plan that results in the
slaying of Phyllis’s spouse; to the paranoia, suspicion, and distrust that
ultimately leads to the downfall of both Phyllis and Walter.
In addition to the voiceover narration and flashback
device, Double Indemnity is rife with a painterly use of lights and
shadows, courtesy of seven-time Oscar-nominated cinematographer John Seitz. Seitz
achieved the film’s oppressively somber effect through the use of low-key
lighting which, unlike high-key lighting, places an emphasis on shadows, contrasted
with intense brights radiating from solitary sources. We see this throughout
the film, beginning in the opening scene; we see the dusky street of Los
Angeles, cloaked mostly in shadows, but with conspicuous lights coming from the
streetlights, safety lamps, traffic lights, and a railway maintenance sign. The
film’s shadowy look is omnipresent; one of the most notable comes in the scene
where Walter enters the Dietrichson living room as he’s waiting for Phyllis to
join him. (Even Walter notices; in his recording to Keyes, he recalls: “The
windows were closed and the sunshine coming through the Venetian blinds showed
up the dust in the air.” Seitz achieved this effect by mixing aluminum dust and
smoke into a shaft of light.) Other effects included shadows from the steel
railings in Walter’s office building, electric fans, floor lamps, hat racks, and
tree branches. The shadows in Double Indemnity are so prevalent and
pervasive that they all but represent another character.
The most significant prototypical noir trait in Double
Indemnity is the presence of the femme fatale, Phyllis. Before we see her,
we hear her voice calling for her housekeeper, Nettie (Betty Farrington), an
when she makes her appearance, she’s clad in a large towel – she’s been taking
a sun bath, and that’s the most innocent act that Phyllis will undertake for
the rest of the film. We get a few minor hints that Phyllis might be someone to
reckon with when we hear her sultry voice and see the lingering look she gives
Walter when she tells Nettie to show him into the living room. But our first concrete
clue to Phyllis’s persona is the gold anklet she wears and the way it
captivates Walter as she descends the stairs. And only scant minutes pass
before Phyllis is acknowledging Walter’s intelligence and asking him about
accident insurance. You can practically see the wheels turning in her head.
Early on, Walter is completely oblivious to Phyllis’s
machinations (he’s too captivated by that anklet) and, to his credit, when he
catches on that she’s interested in bumping off her husband, he beats a hasty
retreat. But Phyllis isn’t one to take “no” for an answer – when at first she
doesn’t succeed, she changes her tack (and her outfit); by the time she’s
finished, she’s got Walter eating out of her hand and single-handedly planning
Mr. Dietrichson’s murder. (And thinking it was all his own idea.)
Not only does Double Indemnity contain these emblematic film noir tropes, but it also serves up a perfect ending. Originally, the movie concluded with Walter’s execution in the San Quentin gas chamber, but (luckily) that ending was scrapped, in favor of the confrontation between Walter and Keyes in Walter’s office. Here, we’re able to witness the profound disappointment and pity on Keyes’s face and the way Walter can barely look his boss and friend squarely in the eye. We hear Walter’s pathetic last-ditch effort to escape, with plans to flee across the border, and Keyes’s accurate prediction that he wouldn’t make it as far as the elevator. And, finally, we experience Keyes providing the match to light Walter’s blood-soaked cigarette and Walter’s final words to close out the proceedings: “I love you, too.” Want to see a pure, unmistakable noir? Check out Double Indemnity. And join me here in the coming months as I take a look at more entries in this shadowy, distinctive category of films.
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– Karen Burroughs Hannsberry for Classic Movie Hub
You can read all of Karen’s Noir Nook articles here.
Karen Burroughs Hannsberry is the author of the Shadows and Satin blog, which focuses on movies and performers from the film noir and pre-Code eras, and the editor-in-chief of The Dark Pages, a bimonthly newsletter devoted to all things film noir. Karen is also the author of two books on film noir – Femme Noir: The Bad Girls of Film and Bad Boys: The Actors of Film Noir. You can follow Karen on Twitter at @TheDarkPages.
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