Noir I’m Thankful For
Around these parts, the 11th month of the year is generally focused on a celebration of all things noir called “Noirvember,” a term that was coined by author Marya Gates back in 2010. And here in the U.S., November, of course, includes a commemoration of the 1621 harvest feast of Plymouth, Massachusetts – Thanksgiving! For this month’s Noir Nook column, I’m serving a mash-up of these two annual events by listing the top five things I’m thankful for in the world of film noir – so grab a plate and a tankard of your favorite beverage, and join me for this trip of shadowy gratitude (and watch your step . . . there are spoilers ahead!).
Barbara Stanwyck Eyes
Everybody (or almost everybody) has heard of Bette Davis eyes, but when it comes to film noir, Stanwyck’s eyes have it! For evidence, I direct your attention to Double Indemnity (1944), which stars Stanwyck as unhappy housewife Phyllis Dietrichson, who teams with insurance salesman Walter Neff (Fred MacMurray) to bump off Phyllis’s husband and collect a cool $100,000 life insurance payout. In this feature (my favorite noir, in case I hadn’t mentioned that once or two hundred times), Stanwyck’s eyes are of particular note in the scene where Walter kills Mr. Dietrichson. The actual murder is not on camera, but Phyllis’s face is – she’s behind the wheel of her car and her hapless hubby is beside her, with Walter in the back. As Walter does his deed, Phyllis’s eyes are positively mesmerizing – they’re colder than frozen marbles, and just as hard; she’s completely unfazed by the fact that her husband is becoming a member of the dearly departed just inches away from her. In fact, judging by the very slight smile that curves her lips when the deed is done, she’s rather pleased by the entire transaction. It’s a visage that lasts only a few seconds, but it’s one you won’t soon forget.
Robert Walker in Strangers on a Train (1951)
I recently revisited this Alfred Hitchcock-directed gem and, as always, I was struck by the absolute brilliance of Robert Walker’s performance. In the film, he plays Bruno Anthony, a charismatic psychopath who proposes to tennis star Guy Haines (Farley Granger) that the two team up for a “criss cross” crime – wherein each of them will kill someone that the other would like to be rid of. Unfortunately, Guy realizes all too late that Bruno wasn’t just whistlin’ Dixie when he pitched this scheme. While there’s a lot to love about this film, Walker, for my money, is simply a revelation. Prior to this film, he was probably best known for lightweight comedies like See Here, Private Hargrove (1944), Her Highness and the Bellboy (1945), or One Touch of Venus (1948), but – much like the transformation of Dick Powell from 1930s crooner to 1940s noir tough guy – Walker is like a completely different performer in Strangers. His Bruno is at once charming and incredibly frightening, and Walker steals every single scene, whether he’s chatting pleasantly over a meal on the train, entertaining party guests with his thoughts on murder, or making his way through an amusement park, casually bursting a child’s balloon with his cigarette – just because. Sadly, just two months after the release of Strangers, Walker would be dead (under odd and mysterious circumstances), but I’ll be forever grateful that he left us this extraordinary performance to remember him by.
The Delicious Wickedness of Wicked Woman
I don’t remember exactly when I discovered Wicked Woman (1953), but I’m so thankful that I did; since my first viewing, this film has become one of my noir favorites. It stars Beverly Michaels (who would later marry the film’s director, Russell Rouse) as Billie Nash, a self-preserving dame who sweeps into a small town at the film’s start and causes all sorts of mayhem before moving on at the end. Her misdeeds include having an affair with the beefy husband of her boss and using an unattractive but besotted apartment house neighbor to secure everything from a pork chop dinner to free tailoring services and loans that would never be repaid. The film clocks in at an economical 77 minutes, and not one second is wasted; it’s a shadowy treat, from the opening theme song, soulfully warbled by cinema’s “Bronze Buckaroo,” Herb Jeffries; to Michaels’s all-white wardrobe and the indolent way she saunters from place to place; to the uber-oily character played by the always-great Percy Helton; to the violent and wholly unexpected climax that has to be seen to be believed. It’s one of those noirs that you can see again and again and never get enough.
Detour Dialogue
A low-budget jewel, Detour (1945) focuses on piano player Al Roberts (Tom Neal), who hitchhikes across the country to join his girlfriend, who has moved to Hollywood to seek fame and fortune. Unfortunately for Al, he hitches a ride with a man who mysteriously winds up dead, and when Al assumes the man’s identity, he picks up a hiker of his own – Vera (Ann Savage) – who turns out to be his undoing. Vera is one of the scariest dames in film noir (and outside of it, too, for that matter), but she spits out some of the best lines around; she’s a sheer joy to behold. Here are just a few of my favorites:
“I’m not gettin’ sore. But just remember who’s boss around here. If you shut up and don’t give me any arguments, you’ll have nothing to worry about. But if you act wise – well, mister, you’ll pop into jail so fast it’ll give you the bends!”
“Not only don’t you have any scruples, you don’t have any brains.”
“Life’s like a ball game. You gotta take a swing at whatever comes along before you wake up and it’s the ninth inning.”
“We’re both alike. Both born in the same gutter.”
The Ending of The Killing
Always on my lists of top-notch noirs, The Killing presents a time-bending tale of a group of disparate criminals who unite to knock off a racetrack. Ex-con Johnny Clay (Sterling Hayden) is the architect of the intricately fashioned scheme, but like the best-laid plans of mice and men, it goes horribly wrong in the end. And speaking of the end, it’s the last few minutes of The Killing that are among my (many) favorite things about the movie. After the successful execution of the robbery, an unexpected and deadly snafu results in Johnny winding up with the stolen money, stuffed into a battered suitcase. When Johnny meets up with his loyal, long-suffering girlfriend Fay (Coleen Gray) at the airport, with plans to fly to Boston, it looks like it’s smooth sailing ahead – but these looks are sadly deceiving. Forced to check his suitcase (instead of keeping it with him as he’d intended), Johnny watches with impotent dread as his precariously stacked suitcase falls on the runway, causing his hard-earned cash to fly through the air like so much confetti. He tries to leave the airport, but two detectives are hot on his trail, and when Fay urges him to run, Johnny yields to his fate with a brief, defeated rejoinder: “Eh. What’s the difference?” (That’s noir for ya.)
What are some of the films, performances, characters, or moments in film noir that you’re thankful for this season? Leave a comment and share with the group!
And Happy Thanks-Noirvember-Giving!
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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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