Border
security between the United States and Mexico has been a topic of concern for
over 100 years. Over that period of time, there has been interminable political
discourse on the subject. At best the border crisis remains an ongoing
challenge, at worst perhaps there is no solution. Given the historical duration
of the border control issue, the story of undocumented migrants possesses
timeless weight. A docudrama intended to shake up the American consciousness of
its time, BORDER INCIDENT is a gritty noir Western brought to
life by the assured filmmaking teamwork of director Anthony Mann and
cinematographer John Alton.
Crude but efficient: the quicksand burial
The film noir staircase implies a dangerous descent
The shining
The awakening
The
film's title suggests an isolated occurrence of some kind, though the modern
viewer aware of the border's long history is sure to question that notion. Sadly,
the human nature concerns emphasized in BORDER INCIDENT are unlikely to
find resolution in the actual world. Mann's taut film is based upon actual
cases compiled by the Immigration and Naturalization Service of the U.S.
Department of Justice. In dependable docudrama fashion, the movie begins with
narration that alerts the viewer to the real-life social problems that must be
addressed. The main setting is the Imperial Valley of Southern California, just
north of the California-Mexico border, where a steady army of tough hands are
required to harvest crops. Because the amount of legal immigrant farmworkers
(known as "braceros") is shown to be restricted, a dark undercurrent
of illegal immigration networking has metastasized between Mexico and the US.
The high demand for Mexican labor has led to an endless trail of migrants who
cross the border in an unauthorized manner. The basic dynamic is simple to
understand: as long as there are people
willing to cross the border illegally in the hope of improving their prospects,
there will be those eager to systematically exploit them. The illegal entrants
who survive their uncomfortable journey (not all of them do) are paid ridiculously
substandard wages. Worse than that, some are subsequently robbed of their
earnings before being badly maimed or, more likely, left for the boneyard. Given
the obvious international problem, a combined government initiative between the
United States and Mexico is introduced to fight illegal immigration
racketeering. The ardent government men devoted to the cause include Pablo
Rodriguez (Ricardo Montalbán), a Mexican, who prepares to go undercover as an
illegal bracero, and Jack Bearnes (George Murphy), the American representative
whose purpose is to shadow Rodriguez and gather evidence against the
individuals involved in human smuggling activities. From the very beginning,
the respective assignments are shown to be inherently dangerous.
The illegal migrants learn they have no rights
Danger zone
Trapped
The
ongoing nature of the border crisis fits well into the framework of the film
noir universe, where thorny social problems tend to be the order of the
day. BORDER INCIDENT is exceptionally noir in its unflinching
presentation of its corrupt agri-businessmen who prey upon Mexican laborers
desperate for whatever small amount of money they can earn. Marxist assumptions
underscore the narrative's specific illegal labor operation, which is masterminded
by a cutthroat capitalist figure: the
supposedly respectable rancher Owen Parkson (Howard Da Silva exudes a certain
quiet cool to villainy) routinely and systematically exploits a revolving door
of migrant workers. The undocumented migration scheme utilized by Parkson
reveals a socialist's worst suspicions about the fundamental inequalities
forged by untethered capitalism:
reprehensible men of wealth like Parkson persistently profit from the
decent poor. This concern is especially apparent once the illegals are
deposited at Parkson's farm, where they are treated with less dignity than any
person with an active conscience would hope. The workers necessary for each
harvest are called paisanos, wets and monkeys.
A mirror image of Bearnes emphasizes the noir duality theme
The blonde problem
An irredeemable figure finds himself on the wrong side of a rifle
BORDER
INCIDENT builds to a symbolic confrontation between government men
and the unscrupulous lawbreakers at the helm of the human smuggling ring. With
the film's stunningly brutal sacrifice of a law enforcement agent, one of the
most disturbing killings any film genre has to offer, it is implied the
racketeers are sophisticated enough that even the most capable and
quick-thinking of law enforcement agents might not survive his assignment.
However, there are tensions in the criminal underworld that do not exist in the
public crimefighting network, where everyone involved is shown to be in close
alignment. The major advantage the international government men have over the
criminals is their shared sense of unity. The government agents stand in
solidarity in their opposition to the violation of immigration laws, while the
underworld characters demonstrate a minimum of mutual respect and support for
one another. Rodriguez and Bearnes represent a dignified sense of
responsibility to the greater good of the public, the outlaws they seek are
motivated primarily by self-preservation. That is the critical difference
between the two groups. In the best example of that distinction, Parkson’s
ranch foreman Jeff Amboy (the gravel-voiced Charles McGraw) turns on his
employer while the dutiful lawmen assemble to defeat them. The mostly cynical
film concludes on an upbeat note with the normalization of the legal Mexican
labor needed to perform the farm work that (presumably) most Americans would
rather avoid.
The iconography of the Western
Director
Anthony Mann and cinematographer John Alton worked efficiently together at
Eagle-Lion Films, where they completed three film noirs often referenced
by film historians: T-MEN (1947),
RAW DEAL (1948) and HE WALKED BY NIGHT (1948). That estimable
track record brought Mann and Alton to MGM for BORDER INCIDENT. The material
meshed well with the preferences of Dore Schary, who was head of production at
MGM at the time. Schary always favored a project with a modest budget that
maintained a healthy social heartbeat. Mann and Alton proved themselves worthy
of the assignment, which easily could have degenerated into more standard fare
had the project landed in lesser hands. The regional location work, which
includes footage captured in agricultural Coachella Valley, adds to the
starkness of setting necessary to establish a corrosive film noir
climate. The recurrent visual patterns of noir find articulation through
the virtuosic skill set of Alton, an absolute master of light and shadow.
Oppressive noir stylistic choices accent the fragility of the illegal
human smuggling operation, which is under intense pressure from multiple
governments. Insistently low camera angles intensify the pressure on everyone
involved. Sequences that feature government men in an office environment are
filmed in an inexpressive manner, but that changes exponentially when the
filmmakers depict field operations. In terms of blocking, actors are placed
strategically to stress one person's superiority over another. The Mann/Alton
team should be credited for injecting the production with a heavy dose of
suspenseful action sequences and intense moments: Bearnes tortured by Hugo Wolfgang Ulrich (Sig
Ruman) and his cronies, a risky water tower climb, a well-crafted car /
motorcycle chase, a truck heist, a shootout in a ravine that features a deadly
quicksand pit (perhaps the ideal film noir death trap) and above all
else a ghastly harrow tractor murder. Amboy's grisly killing of a helpless man
stands as one of the most excruciating murders ever committed to celluloid.
Another frequent collaborator with Mann, screenwriter John C. Higgins had
writing credits for four other titles directed by Mann: RAILROADED! (1947), T-MEN, RAW
DEAL and HE WALKED BY NIGHT. For BORDER INCIDENT, Higgins
worked from a story by George Zuckerman. His screenplay never portrays the
migrants as an invasive menace; the only villains are those who take advantage
of them for cheap labor. A low-budget production, BORDER INCIDENT earned
$580,000 in US and Canadian box office receipts plus an additional $328,000 in
international earnings. Ultimately the film lost $194,000 for MGM.
Harrowing: the barbaric murder of Bearnes
The
dual-layered Blu-ray version of BORDER INCIDENT available as part of the
Warner Archive Collection is framed at 1.37:1 and looks well-preserved in
motion. Compared to the 1.33:1 DVD that Warner issued in 2006, the HD scan
yields a noticeable improvement over its DVD counterpart, which looks dark and much
less defined in comparison. In terms of content within the frame, the Blu-ray
version offers more information on the left, slightly less on the right, a
little more at the top and somewhat less at the bottom:
A home
invasion thriller set in the heart of Midwestern suburbia, THE DESPERATE
HOURS employs the idyllic middle-class American family as organizing
principle of the film noir. Intelligently sustained by producer/director
William Wyler, hostile intruders take up residence in an otherwise stable
household, where routine family matters suddenly become anything but routine.
The family is tested to the max by the destabilizing force of the trespassers,
but ultimately proves its resolve, bravery and long-term viability.
After family patriarch Daniel
Hilliard (Fredric March) leaves his wife Ellie (Martha Scott) at home to tend
to daily housekeeping rituals, the Hilliard family is left vulnerable to
members of quite a different social stratum:
the Griffin brothers, recently escaped from the Indiana State Prison. In
an instructive instance of film noir fatalism, the outfit's leader Glenn
Griffin (Humphrey Bogart) targets the Hilliard property as a suitable hideout
when he notices a kid's bicycle accents the otherwise unsullied front lawn.
Glenn's safe assumption is that responsible parents never would take any
chances with the safety of their children always in check. And so the unwelcome
Griffin crew occupies the Hilliard property, where they challenge the strength
and togetherness of the Hilliard family.
Good neighborhood gone bad
A mirror speaks to the duality of man: the family patriarch must access the side of himself normally suppressed
Pretty as a painting: all the hallmarks of a carefully-staged William Wyler composition
Predictably, the social
pariahs led by Glenn cause an instantly repellent disruption to this normally
safe, antiseptic family environment situated in Marion County, Indiana. The
three escaped convicts desecrate the neatly arranged family dwelling without
much delay, their actions often characterized by the expected absence of moral
constraints. A corpulent, clumsy oaf, Sam Kobish (Robert Middleton) is the most
obnoxiously intrusive and upsetting to the established family framework. He
starts trashing the Hilliard place minutes after he is inside. In contrast,
Glenn's younger brother Hal Griffin (Dewey Martin) is too envious of the
Hilliard home to cause the sort of upheaval Kobish accomplishes. Glenn falls
somewhere between Kobish and Hal in his lack of refinement, as when he deposits
his cigar in a teacup or stomps out a cig on the floor. It is as if the house
itself is being challenged, not just the family that resides there. Before long
the Griffin gang converts the Hilliards into servants within their own home.
The narrative is intensified
by a Hilliard family in a state of transition. During the early moments of the
film, the two children show signs each would like to break free from the family
system and its somewhat regimented aspects. Little pipsqueak Ralphy Hilliard
(Richard Eyer) wants to be treated more like a man, starting with being
addressed as Ralph. Comically assertive, he is emboldened by the danger the
gang represents, too youthfully energetic to recognize danger as he should.
Ralphy's teenage sister Cindy Hilliard (Mary Murphy) takes a glance at her
blossomed female physique in the mirror and deems herself ready for marriage.
Neither of the siblings yet understands the complexities of maturity, that the
transition to adulthood involves tough decisions that sometimes come with
unexpected or wildly unfair consequences. Each energized by a certain amount of
gumption, Ralphy attempts a daring escape and Cindy (tagged
"spitfire" by Glenn) sinks her teeth into Hal's hand, but neither of
the Hilliard children proves to be equipped to confront the menace exhibited by
the unshackled convicts.
Night terror
Caught
The man who knew too much
The Hilliard family is headed
by Daniel, a man of quiet demeanor who must face his antithesis in Glenn. Much
of the narrative's momentum revolves around the question as to whether Daniel
is able to protect his family and expel the unwelcome criminals from his home.
In a crucial sequence, Daniel admits to his impressionable son he is dealing
with fear. Nobody is more aware of Daniel's internal struggle than Glenn, who
openly mocks Daniel's masculinity. A major turning point transpires when Daniel
acknowledges his potential to become a killer, to think exactly like Glenn
should there be no better alternative. Glenn acknowledges the base similarities
the two men share when he declares Daniel would make a great confidence man.
Like a transcendent mythological figure who must cope with adversity and grow
stronger, Daniel becomes a different man by the end of the film compared to who
he is at the outset. That he must somehow defeat the threat embodied by the
Griffin band, however, is not to say he must harness his most primitive
impulses, as sometimes plays out in such stories. Instead he must outthink both
the hardened criminal and the seasoned crime fighters who seek the
escaped inmates. His ascendancy is made possible through quick thinking, not
from getting immersed in the gutter with his adversaries. A beacon of unmuddied
reasoning and clarity of purpose, Daniel outlasts the chaos presented by Glenn
through mental fitness, not force, all while putting the safety of his family
ahead of his own.
As Daniel and his family are
pressured to prove they belong in their home, so the Griffin party reveals they
have no proper place in such surroundings. While the Hilliards cope with the
unenviable circumstances that cause them to become prisoners of former
prisoners, they must adapt and change in ways they likely never considered
would be necessary. The archetypal middle-class family unit strengthens as the
Griffin outfit gradually unravels. The gang is dysfunctional by comparison,
unable or unwilling to demonstrate the same sense of unity. Much of their
conversation results in disagreements and outright arguments. Glenn is
sometimes crude in his expressions, a victim of his own self-limiting belief
system. Perhaps he is too old and battle-scarred to do anything other than what
he has done in the past. His brother Hal shows his lack of maturity when he
acts childish once in possession of the Hilliard family handgun. Hal's
determination to be his own man, to break from his family unit, will ensure the
gang's destruction. The uncouth Kobish acts like an undisciplined little kid
that seems to legitimize the maturity of young Ralphy. In elementary school,
Kobish might have been that poor kid who just could not do anything right; the
type of misfit who couldn't tie his own shoes or follow the most basic set of
instructions. As an adult, he is a childish brute who is far too mean to earn
any of the viewer's sympathies, especially when he foolishly risks his own neck
to encourage a vehicle's collision with a loose dog. To solidify his outcast
status, Kobish later guns down "local trashman" George Patterson
(Walter Baldwin), an obviously harmless man. Ultimately the outdated criminal
family led by Glenn proves itself more error-prone and less cohesive than the
stable and supportive Hilliard family.
If a sense of fatalism brings
the Griffins and the Hilliards together, the hand of fate also is in effect
when Glenn's moll Helen gets pulled over for a traffic violation. No longer en
route with Glenn's cash, she arranges to mail him the money, which causes the
gang to remain at the Hilliard residence much longer than originally planned.
Glenn and the boys could have departed with the fistful of cash Daniel forks
over, but the notion additional funds are in transit ensures the gang will remain
right where they are at. It is nothing more than greed, that essential noir
motivator, that keeps the Griffin bunch hanging around past their expiration
date.
Idealized family photos emphasize a man's priorities
Road kill
This composition implies a divide between the gang members
A time of social cohesion and
financial discipline, the entrenched family-based ideology of the mid-1950s was
at odds with classic film noir pessimism that persistently questioned
the feasibility of the family. Consider the vast array of crucial noir
films that challenge the very concept of marriage and its traditional family
structure, i.e. SHADOW OF A DOUBT (1943), DOUBLE INDEMNITY
(1944), LEAVE HER TO HEAVEN (1945), MILDRED PIERCE (1945), THE
STRANGE LOVE OF MARTHA IVERS (1946), THE BIG CLOCK (1948), CAUGHT
(1949), SUDDEN FEAR (1952), ANGEL FACE (1953). With its focus on
the sturdiness of the traditional American family and the human gravity
embodied by its family patriarch, in terms of family values THE DESPERATE
HOURS seems to signal the end of the film noir movement. As the noir
film moved from the 1940s into the 1950s, its skepticism in regard to the
American family's enduringness was at odds with the new normal: the American rate of divorce was lower in the
1950s than the prior decade. Historically speaking, the America of the 1950s
was known for social conformity and its stable, idealistic nuclear family,
epitomized by popular television programming like I LOVE LUCY (1951–1957), THE
ADVENTURES OF OZZIE AND HARRIET (1952–1966), FATHER KNOWS BEST (1954–1960) and LEAVE
IT TO BEAVER (1957–1963), all enriched with moral lessons intended for broad
public consumption. How interesting that the front of the Hilliard home was
utilized for LEAVE IT TO BEAVER! Notable films of the mid-1950s that were more
cynical about the supposed strength of the nuclear family tend to fall within
the emotional excesses of the melodrama category, i.e. ALL THAT HEAVEN
ALLOWS (1955), REBEL WITHOUT A CAUSE (1955), BIGGER THAN LIFE
(1956), WRITTEN ON THE WIND (1956). It is probably fair to assume the
vibrant color palettes of the Sirkian melodrama displaced the film noir
in some respects, especially in terms of the genre film as manifestation of the
dark side of the American Zeitgeist.
In harmony with the times, THE
DESPERATE HOURS repeatedly validates the importance and resilience of the
family as a team. Family members can be counted on to look out for each other,
unlike the criminal family, which is shown to be undisciplined and less
structured in comparison. The common criminal still might be able to eke out
his livelihood in the big city, though that type of individual is shown to have
no ideological place in the suburban world depicted in THE DESPERATE HOURS,
where consequential family values crystallize with a collaboration of law
enforcement officials in the shared interest of delivering a kick in the pants
to the criminal minded. But even the finest of families can invite danger into
their lives through complacency, a theme repeatedly underscored by references
to Ralphy's bicycle left conspicuously in the front yard. One cannot take
suburban middle-class safety for granted. No matter, the Hilliards confirm they
can stick together when it matters most, as when Cindy instinctively returns to
her home base. Conversely, when Hal acts on his instincts to abandon his
family, his reward is a gun battle with the law that leaves him in the path of
a punishing semi-trailer truck. In other words, the first of the Griffin gang
to part ways with his family is the first to be exterminated. Though the
difference in Hal's lifespan well might have been academic, it is implied he
and his mates would have been better off had he remained with his group, its
emotional emptiness notwithstanding. Even the Griffins are better off together
than separated.
Window surveillance shots often underscore the classic noir chiaroscuro visual style while implying a sense of entrapment
The home invasion story is
intertwined with police procedure intended to reinforce the ultimate triumph of
patriarchal family values, though competing pressures create conflict between
the lawman and the citizen. Policemen are highly motivated to capture the
fugitives at large, especially after one of them kills a local man. Daniel must
be more concerned with the preservation of his family than whatever happens to
Glenn and his men. That understandable concern causes Daniel to be reluctant to
involve the police. What if the cops lose control of the situation and bust
into his home all guns blazing? Indeed the final resolution to the social
problem presented by the three convicts supports Daniel's concern that a police
presence on his property could cause irreparable harm to his family. As it
turns out there is no rehabilitation program in the future for the members of
the Griffin gang. In testimonial to their collective lack of worth, all three
gang members are gunned down by the police, not arrested. Along with the moral
goodness represented by the Hilliard family comes a validation of the law-abiding
citizen who makes it possible for the police to move in on nefarious
forces: it is the discovery of the registered
Hilliard handgun that works to restore law and order to the Hilliard family
home (unregistered firearms could bring about no such positive outcome).
Screenwriter Joseph Hayes also
wrote the novel (1954) and the play (1955). The novel was based on actual
events that began on (of all dates) 9/11 of 1952, when the Hill family of
Whitemarsh, Pennsylvania was invaded by three escaped convicts. The Hills were
held hostage by the trio for nineteen hours. Later in 1952 LIFE magazine
dramatized the story, which resulted in a lawsuit that had right to privacy
implications; the Hills did not appreciate that the terror they experienced
became fodder for entertainment. Moreover, they claimed the magazine article
was an inaccurate portrayal of the events that transpired. In 1967 the U.S.
Supreme Court sided with LIFE magazine, which made the Hill lawsuit an
important First Amendment victory for media outlets. The Hill case might have
inspired numerous variations on the home invasion thriller; a number of such
films cast in the noir form populated the 1950s and some of them came
before THE DESPERATE HOURS. Noir films that explore the invasion
theme include HE RAN ALL THE WAY (1951), SPLIT SECOND (1953), BLACK
TUESDAY (1954), SUDDENLY (1954), WITNESS TO MURDER (1954), CRASHOUT
(1955), THE NIGHT HOLDS TERROR (1955) and VIOLENT SATURDAY
(1955).
The stage version of THE
DESPERATE HOURS made its Broadway debut February 10, 1955 at the Ethel
Barrymore Theatre. It ran for 212 performances and featured Paul Newman as
Glenn Griffin and Karl Malden as Dan Hilliard. On October 12, 1955, master
filmmaker William Wyler's adaptation of THE DESPERATE HOURS was in wide
release in the United States. Wyler’s modes of expression sometimes remind us
the stage version came first, though his coverage is always cinematic and
imparts craftsmanlike thought on the part of the man at the helm of the
production. There are nice little touches along the way, as when Chuck Wright (Gig
Young) lifts up the armrest of his convertible in the hope his date Cindy wants
to snuggle up to him (she doesn't, and he fails to realize it). A creepy Wyler
moment plays out when Kobish rises from the darkness, his sexual appetite
stirred by the appearance of the attractive young Hilliard daughter. And in one
of my favorite Wyler sequences, Hal observes the assembly of fun-loving young
people in the neighborhood. Hopelessly detached from basic human wants and
needs, on the outside the escaped prisoner remains on the inside. The only
error in judgment that leaps out at me is the way Glenn repeatedly says
"clickety clickety click" to Daniel (the reference is to Daniel's
brain on overdrive trying to outwit the ruffians). The phrase grows stale by
the second reel. Though his filmmaking career covered 45 years from the silent
film into the New Hollywood era, Wyler was not noted for extensive work in the film
noir genre. He did direct DETECTIVE STORY (1951), another noir
narrative ported from the stage, and THE COLLECTOR (1965), a noirish
captivity narrative with a claustrophobic sense of alienation. Director of
photography Lee Garmes is probably the bigger name in terms of experience with noir
productions. His most important credit in that vein undoubtedly is NIGHTMARE
ALLEY (1947), and he also handled the cinematography for CAUGHT
(1949), THE CAPTIVE CITY (1952) and Wyler's DETECTIVE STORY.
Low-angle shots work to close in on the gang led by Glenn Griffin
Trapped
The Hilliard home minimizes Glenn, even as he attempts to make a last stand
Reduced to a news story
Of course the Wyler
interpretation of THE DESPERATE HOURS benefits from the presence of film
noir royalty in Humphrey Bogart, one of the foremost figures to inhabit the
genre from beginning to end. After starring in the two genre-shapers HIGH
SIERRA (1940) and THE MALTESE FALCON (1941), Bogart left his
charismatic mark on the 1940s with CONFLICT (1945), THE BIG SLEEP
(1946), DEAD RECKONING (1946), DARK PASSAGE (1947), THE TWO
MRS. CARROLLS (1947) and the superb KEY LARGO (1948). He would grace
the 1950s with IN A LONELY PLACE (1950), one of the most iconic of all noir
films, and follow up with THE ENFORCER (1951), DEADLINE - U.S.A.
(1952), THE DESPERATE HOURS and his final project THE HARDER THEY
FALL (1956). Before all of that, Bogart found his star-making vehicle in THE
PETRIFIED FOREST (1936) thanks to his inspired performance as gangster Duke
Mantee. The following year, DEAD END (1937) was directed by William
Wyler and featured Bogart as "Baby Face" Martin. Roughly 18 years
later, Wyler's THE DESPERATE HOURS brought the curtain down on Bogart's
gangster persona. Obviously a lot of time had passed since Bogart's gangster
films of the 1930s, and that passage of time is apparent within the actor's
appearance. The lines that accent his facial features have deepened, etched
with an accelerated aging process one might associate with the frequently
incarcerated (and the heavy smoker). One gets the impression his Glenn has been
beaten with the hammer of oppression all his life. As forces opposed to Glenn
converge toward him, Bogart's dour mug conveys a deadening sense of purpose as
a life marked by existential choices grinds down. On the wrong side of a
handgun brandished by Daniel, Bogart's Glenn makes his existential
declaration: "What are you waiting
for?" The viewer is met with the feeling it is not just a character
recognizing the end of the line, but a genre personality drained of his
vitality. We are witness to the exhaustion of a tradesman who’s walked a genre
from beginning to end. Indeed Bogart would pass away just a few years after his
memorable turn in THE DESPERATE HOURS. In retrospect the genre died with
him, at least in terms of film noir as a highly active Hollywood
filmmaking formula. Somewhat surprisingly, THE DESPERATE HOURS also
accounted for the only occasion Bogart and Fredric March worked together.
Thanks to a highly
questionable casting decision, Gig Young seems light years out of place in his
supporting role as Cindy's suitor Chuck. Young was about 18 years older than
Mary Murphy, which strains credulity in terms of his relationship with the
vulnerable Hilliard daughter. As time marched on, Young would be an odd choice
for another reason to portray the man invited into the Hilliard home during the
narrative's concluding scene: on the
19th day of October, 1978, Young and his wife were found dead in their
Manhattan apartment. It was believed Young shot his wife before turning the gun
on himself. Other supporting roles allow some familiar faces to lend
credibility to the proceedings, especially among the law enforcement crew, which
features Arthur Kennedy as Deputy Sheriff Jesse Bard, Whit Bissell as FBI Agent
Carson and Ray Collins as Sheriff Masters. Beverly Garland also appears in an
uncredited role as Miss Swift (a schoolteacher).
Arrow Video issued a
"Limited Edition" dual-layered Blu-ray edition of THE DESPERATE
HOURS in the fall of 2023. Framed at 1.85:1, this new restoration was
completed by C Films from a 6K scan of the original VistaVision negative.
Paramount's proprietary widescreen film process, the VistaVision format ran
film horizontally through the camera instead of vertically. This process
allowed for a larger image area and thus higher image resolution that became
apparent when projected on large theatrical screens. The restorative work
results are easy for the home video collector to appreciate; this is one of the
sharpest Blu-ray versions of a film noir a genre fan is likely to
encounter. I did notice a glitchy moment around the 75m 33s mark, either an
editing imperfection or perhaps some frames were missing. The restoration also
features the original lossless mono audio. THE DESPERATE HOURS was the
first black & white film shot in VistaVision. The difference between the
Arrow Blu-ray and the DVD issued by Paramount Pictures in 2003 is downright
shocking:
Paramount DVD (2003)
Arrow Blu-ray (2023)
The impressive Arrow Video
presentation of the feature film gets an added boost from an informative range
of supplemental material. The newly-recorded audio commentary track by
filmmaker and film historian Daniel Kremer covers the penultimate Humphrey Bogart
film from a variety of angles. Kremer explores the trademarks of director
William Wyler, which include deep focus cinematography to best capture his
"stacked staging." There is always a lot going on in a Wyler frame. His
carefully considered blocking suggests a seasoned filmmaker at work who takes
his job very seriously. Wyler always maintains a perspective as he guides the
viewer into a perception; the audience is meant to experience a setup a
predetermined way. Wyler was noted for making his actors perform many, many
takes. This was especially true for Fredric March, whom Wyler wanted to beat
down enough to look appropriately frazzled. In one of my favorite moments of
the film, March's efforts as an actor reach their apex when his character
finally reclaims his family home. In terms of auteur theory, THE DESPERATE
HOURS follows a recurring Wyler template in which non-violent people are
forced into action. The March character is on common ground with pacifists who
rise to the occasion in FRIENDLY PERSUASION (1956), THE BIG COUNTRY
(1958) and BEN-HUR (1959).
THE DESPERATE HOURS was remade
as a TV movie in 1967 directed by Ted Kotcheff (WAKE IN FRIGHT [1971], FIRST
BLOOD [1982]). George Segal portrayed Glenn Griffin and Arthur Hill played
Dan Hilliard. I have not had the opportunity to watch this version of the
story. The more readily available remake DESPERATE HOURS was released in
1990, directed by Michael Cimino (THE DEER HUNTER [1978], HEAVEN'S
GATE [1980]). The Cimino interpretation of the source material written by
Joseph Hayes was among the first of numerous titles that resurrected film
noir themes and motifs released in the early-to-mid 1990s. These neo-noir
thrillers include AFTER DARK, MY SWEET (1990), SHATTERED (1991), BASIC
INSTINCT (1992), FINAL ANALYSIS (1992), ONE FALSE MOVE
(1992), RESERVOIR DOGS (1992), RED ROCK WEST (1993), ROMEO IS
BLEEDING (1993), THE LAST SEDUCTION (1994), PULP FICTION
(1994), SEVEN (1995) and THE USUAL SUSPECTS (1995). Also in the
mix were a number of remakes such as CAPE FEAR (1991), A KISS BEFORE
DYING (1991), GUNCRAZY (1992), NIGHT AND THE CITY (1992), KISS
OF DEATH (1995) and THE UNDERNEATH (1995). DESPERATE HOURS of
course falls into the remake bucket, but unfortunately stands as one of the
least impactful of the group. It is as if the premise engineered by Hayes were
forced at gunpoint to move from 1955 to 1990. More plot-driven than
character-driven, the Cimino film lacks the character development necessary to
gain the viewer's commitment. The family in peril is ill-conceived, with
Anthony Hopkins and Mimi Rogers combined to form one of the genre's least
plausible couples. Another problem is the casting of Mickey Rourke as the
leader of the home invasion team. Rourke at times seems to have emerged from
the set of another production. Whatever motivates his lawyer Nancy Breyers
(Kelly Lynch) is particularly hard to follow. Worst of all is with Cimino at
the helm, the basic themes that were so central to the Wyler original become murky
at best. If all of that were not disappointing enough, Cimino should be ashamed
of the highway sequence that highlights young actresses obviously selected for
their ability to fill out skimpy jean shorts.
At the
time of this post, the Arrow Video release of William Wyler's THE DESPERATE
HOURS is still available through online retailers and should be purchased
by film noir fans without hesitation.
Behind
the white picket fence of suburban tranquility lies a fractured marriage in CAUSE
FOR ALARM!, a longtime favorite programmer-length film noir of mine.
Led by director Tay Garnett, the creative team synthesizes the woman's picture
with film noir mechanics, in particular the "downward spiral"
theme so prevalent in noir formulas. Our lead protagonist falls deeper
and deeper into trouble through no apparent fault of her own, other than
perhaps having fallen in love too quickly. But other than her disastrous
selection of a husband, there is no evidence offered the good-natured lead
protagonist deserves to endure such a veritable noir shitstorm.
The
grasp of film noir sometimes reaches beyond its traditional urban
environment to wreak havoc on the heart of suburbia, in this case at a home
located in a seemingly idyllic Los Angeles neighborhood. As the film noir
fan has been calibrated to expect, the misaligned couple that resides there is
out of step with the stable sense of community suggested by the handsome homes
and well-manicured front yards. Routinized housewife Ellen Jones (Loretta
Young, top-billed) is an upbeat but somewhat frustrated woman trapped in a
dispiriting marriage to George Z. Jones (Barry Sullivan), a bedridden man with
a heart condition. For reasons never made entirely clear, George has slipped
into a deep state of despondency. He wrongly believes his wife is planning to
run off with Dr. Ranney Grahame (Bruce Cowling), his old friend and family
physician, after the two get rid of him. George expresses his misguided
thoughts in writing to the local district attorney and tricks his wife into
mailing the letter. Ellen learns of the letter's content just before her
husband drops dead. Faced with a probable prison sentence, Ellen is determined
to retrieve the letter by any means necessary.
This means not welcome
Diary of a madman
Recollections of a better time
As the
narrative unfolds, the hot July temperature has its impact on the townspeople,
who make reference to the devastating heat from time to time. It is safe to
assume the heat affects nobody more than George, who embodies the antithesis of
healthy male vitality. His relationship with his wife has eroded thanks to his
excessive jealousy and wrongheaded suspicions. Film noirs that revolve
around jealousy are numerous: consider LAURA
(1944), LEAVE HER TO HEAVEN (1945), GILDA (1946), THE POSTMAN
ALWAYS RINGS TWICE (1946), POSSESSED (1947) and SUNSET BOULEVARD
(1950), just to name a few. Locked inside an irredeemable marriage with no
breathing room, Ellen inhabits a household torn asunder by endless conflict
instigated by George.
"...a man wrapped
up in himself makes a very small package." —Aunt Clara Edwards
(Margalo Gillmore)
The
burden of masculinity is a heavy weight on the narrow shoulders of George,
whose porcelain state of mind exacerbates his heart condition. He embodies the
archetypal fallen veteran displaced since the conclusion of World War II. That
character type is well traveled within the framework of the film noir,
on record in THE BLUE DAHLIA (1946), CROSSFIRE (1947), RIDE
THE PINK HORSE (1947), ACT OF VIOLENCE (1948), THE CLAY PIGEON
(1949), THE CROOKED WAY (1949), SOMEWHERE IN THE NIGHT (1946), THE
SNIPER (1952) and THE KILLER IS LOOSE (1956). Certainly the
embittered George is a lesser man than he was at wartime, when he served as a
Navy pilot. Now he is psychologically defeated and socially incapacitated, an
irritable portrait of stubborn male attitudes. Aunt Clara even comments that
George had issues before he met Ellen, which seems to absolve Ellen from any
blame for her husband's disturbing decline. Dr. Grahame believes George would
benefit from a session or two with a psychiatrist. Given George's endlessly
brooding frame of mind, it is tough to argue with that contention. He is
persistently callous in all communication toward his wife and downright creepy
when he tells her a story about beating another kid when he was a boy. George
makes it all too apparent she might be in for the identical treatment; he would
rather destroy his wife than cede her to Dr. Grahame. In an unnerving
punctuation of his dark memories, George threatens Ellen while he touches her
throat! Later he declares he will kill the wife he has (erroneously)
determined to be faithless. George's paranoid jealousy even extends to the
neighborhood kid Billy, AKA "Hoppy" (Brad Morrow). Mostly confined to
his bed (though he can move around when it suits him), the irascible,
worthless husband George does not trust anyone.
In
terms of the unlikable invalid noir personality, George shares an
obvious kinship with Barbara Stanwyck's detestable Leona Stevenson from SORRY,
WRONG NUMBER (1948). But there are many instances of male film noir
characters who are in some way rendered immobile, i.e. THE GLASS KEY
(1942), DOUBLE INDEMNITY (1944), THE BIG SLEEP (1946), KEY
LARGO (1948), ACT OF VIOLENCE, CRISS CROSS (1949), HOUSE
BY THE RIVER (1950), THE BIG COMBO (1955), TOUCH OF EVIL
(1958). Such characters obviously reflect historical realities. Many of our
veterans returned from combat with irreversible physical damage. With his
frequently hostile outbursts, George reminds us that psychological issues were
part of the equation as well and might in fact have been worse than anything physical
our soldiers experienced. An unpleasant side effect of this sort of drama
causes the viewer to wonder what the filmmakers think of our veterans in
general. George debases himself whenever he opens his mouth, so much so that
when his heart finally gives up on him, one feels a sense of relief, not
sympathy. His inability to muster up the strength to gun down his wife before
he expires is kind of pathetic, a gutless account of an ex-soldier with nothing
left to offer humanity. I suppose the limitations of the B film are at least in
part responsible for this treatment; perhaps a 90-minute film might have
offered a more layered version of George, whose death might have had some
tragic implications.
I'd wanna marry her too
Awww, how cute
A bewildered Ellen in front of a paranoiac
Other
male characters who populate CAUSE FOR ALARM! reinforce various
masculine stereotypes as required to confirm our allegiance to Ellen. The
postal carrier Joe Carston (Irving Bacon) is the dutiful public servant who
will talk at length to anyone whose ear he can bend. He also constitutes male
fragility as he complains at length about his tough lot in life. Joe also
stands for the rigidity of bureaucratic systems such as the United States
Postal Service. The USPS superintendent (Art Baker) validates the importance of
the system over sympathetic individuals like Ellen, who deserve more
flexibility under the circumstances than the system can offer. The local
druggist Mr. Phillips (Louis Merrill, uncredited) is suspicious of Ellen (George
accidentally spilled his last prescription; Ellen had nothing to do with the
sudden need for more drugs), and so is Mr. Russell (Don Haggerty), a notary
whose afternoon visit catches Ellen off guard. Then we have the distinctly male
conviction of the handgun as universal problem solver.
If the
unstable, displaced veteran George personifies an archetypal noir
character, Ellen also represents a signature noir staple: the woman in distress. A persona that emerges
in different forms, such a woman might be a simple character of limited texture
or a more complex figure. With varying degrees of anxiousness, vulnerability
and culpability, variations of this female archetype can be witnessed in DANGER
SIGNAL (1945), MILDRED PIERCE (1945), NOTORIOUS (1946), SORRY,
WRONG NUMBER, THE ACCUSED (1949, also starring Loretta Young), MANHANDLED
(1949), THE RECKLESS MOMENT (1949), WHIRLPOOL (1949), IN A
LONELY PLACE (1950), WOMAN IN HIDING (1950), THE HOUSE ON
TELEGRAPH HILL (1951), SUDDEN FEAR (1952), THE BIG HEAT
(1953), THE NIGHT OF THE HUNTER (1955) and TOUCH OF EVIL. Stuck
with a husband with whom it is impossible to reason or even converse, Ellen
earns a special place among these imperiled noir women. When she is
introduced during the film's opening sequence, the Midwest gal Ellen appears as
devoted to her troubled marriage as one could wish, despite her mild
disappointment children are not yet part of the equation. The plot mechanics
lunge forward mostly through husband-induced traumas experienced by Ellen.
Despite the presence of an increasingly irrational George, Ellen maintains a
sense of loyalty to her abrasive husband. Other women on the scene exist
largely to strengthen our sympathies for Ellen. There is the buttinsky neighbor
Mrs. Warren (Georgia Backus), her eyes always wide open to anything unusual,
along with Aunt Clara, an endless talker who neither Ellen nor George are
excited to welcome.
Full-on breakdown mode
Somebody somewhere is out to get me
Please stop
Ellen
questions her circumstances via narration, a customary storytelling device
utilized frequently in film noir exercises. Her narration dovetails
nicely with a flashback that helps explain her present-day existence in which
she questions her union to George while she tries to cling to optimistic
thoughts. From a practical point of view, especially for a B film of limited
runtime, the flashback allows filmmakers to cover a lot of ground quickly, in
this case why a nice woman like Ellen got hooked up with a headcase like
George. During WWII, Ellen worked as a nurse at a naval hospital, where she
first encountered George, a friend of Dr. Grahame's. Before the couple-to-be
even met, a warning shot was fired when George commented that women derive
pleasure from "...shoving a man around." Even more tellingly, the
relationship between Ellen and George got started via deception as
George played the role of patient in need of a nurse's care. After a
problematically brief courtship, Ellen ended up married to George. This is
where the flashback becomes something beyond a way to expedite the plot in this
film noir and many others: it is
impressed upon the viewer that Ellen's marital difficulties are grounded in the
past, a notion that informs many of the most significant noirs.
The assumption that unsolvable problems are rooted in past events that cannot
be undone makes the film noir the most pessimistic of Hollywood genres.
What makes the genre darker still is the strong sense of fatalism that energizes
the majority of noir narratives. Given the structure of CAUSE FOR
ALARM!, one is left with the impression it was fate that led Ellen to
George, not bad luck. That explanation is given credence during the flashback
segment, when Ellen admitted to Dr. Grahame she had no way of knowing for
certain if George was the right man for her. She described her attraction to
George in emotional terms beyond her control:
"...it's just something you feel...you can't do anything about
it."
If the
random nature of the noir universe brings Ellen and George together, an
atmosphere rich in irony emphasizes their fatalistic connection. In perhaps the
best example, years after George playfully pretended to be in need of Ellen's
nursing, she eventually does have to care for George the sickly husband.
Interestingly, George's concerns about his wife's loyalty are not completely
without merit. Before he laid eyes on Ellen, Dr. Grahame expressed hopes of
developing a relationship with her, though he seemed to agree with her
assumption that his attentiveness to countless war-related injuries prohibited
a courtship of any kind (that scenario indeed played out in a scene at the
beach). That point notwithstanding, Ellen seemed unaware of how disappointed
Ranney was in her long-term choice of his friend George. With the film's
restorative conclusion comes the ultimate irony that cruelly mocks George: his letter of condemnation is returned for
insufficient postage! So much for the power of the patriarchal system.
An ill-fated marriage about to go up in smoke
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust
CAUSE
FOR ALARM! was shot in two weeks. Location footage was captured on
residential side streets near Melrose Avenue in Hollywood. US and Canadian box
office receipts totaled $518,000, along with $250,000 in other territories. The
end result was a loss for MGM, a shame considering how well the film holds up
after so many years. Director Tay Garnett (THE POSTMAN ALWAYS RINGS TWICE,
THE RACKET [1951]) brings nothing stylish to the production, which
always is stated with economy, but he does imbue the narrative with palpable
tension and a punchy sense of rhythm ideal for a film of this length. As one
might expect, it appears most of the setups were conceived with the goal of
making the production's female star look attractive. The unadorned
cinematography by Joseph Ruttenberg (GASLIGHT [1944], KILLER MCCOY
[1947], SIDE STREET [1949]) reflects the filmmaking industry's
transition to authenticity and realism that would distinguish the 1950s noir
movement from the more expressionistic look that characterized the noir
film of the 1940s. Co-screenwriter Mel Dinelli was something of a specialist
when it came to women and children in jeopardy; the first three films to his
credit were THE SPIRAL STAIRCASE (1946), THE WINDOW (1949) and THE
RECKLESS MOMENT. Co-screenwriter and producer Tom Lewis was married to
Loretta Young at the time of production. The source material was the radio play
by Lawrence B. Marcus. Warner Bros. spoofed the title with "Claws for
Alarm" (1954), one of the very best Merrie Melodies cartoon shorts.
Released
earlier this year by ClassicFlix, CAUSE FOR ALARM! finally made its
Blu-ray debut in a newly restored edition worthy of the film noir fan's
investment. The presentation begins with this note about the restoration:
The difference
in source material is evident at times but not overly distracting. Minor
scratches are minimally invasive and the level of film grain looks appropriate
to my eye. Contrast is solid.
An original
theatrical trailer (2m 1s) is selectable, along with trailers for five other
titles available from ClassicFlix.