This
enjoyable murder mystery conceived by Raymond Chandler is primetime film noir, even while it falls somewhat
short of its contemporaries in terms of visual style. Unpretentious director
George Marshall may not demonstrate much flair for iconic noir compositions, but he displays a great talent for conveying how
suddenly people can become irritated with one another, and how quickly a
setting of calmness can mutate into a scene of violence. Set in a nation
reconfigured during WWII, the characters who occupy this distinctly LA-based
landscape know each other's weaknesses and are all too eager to exploit them.
Back
from serving in the South Pacific, a trio of veterans disembarks a
Hollywood-branded bus and enters the nearest place in sight that dispenses
bourbon. The three United States Navy fliers are Lieutenant Commander Johnny
Morrison (Alan Ladd), George Copeland (Hugh Beaumont) and Buzz Wanchek (William
Bendix). Almost instantly, the hot-tempered Buzz takes issue with the upbeat
song blasting out of the watering hole's jukebox, and even pushes around the
guy (Anthony Caruso) who selected the tune. Without question Buzz is
shell-shocked; he has shrapnel lodged in his skull, suffers from memory loss
and endures a debilitating headache whenever he hears what he pejoratively
deems "monkey music." The scuffle is broken up and the fellow
military men share an "it's all good" moment, but the sequence casts
an ominous shadow over what should be a day of cheerfulness. "Well, here's
to what was," Johnny coldly summarizes.
The
ensuing scene is even more intense than the establishing sequence. Johnny drops
by unannounced on his wife Helen (Doris Dowling) at her bungalow residence
within Cavendish Court in Santa Monica. The porcelain-skinned beauty is busy
hosting a lively party, and seems disappointed to receive her returning veteran
husband, who has been placed on the inactive list. In attendance is her current
romantic interest Eddie Harwood (Howard Da Silva), who owns a local nightclub called
The Blue Dahlia. Johnny would like to resume a relationship with his wife, but
the more Helen reveals about herself, the more hopeless the situation appears
to be. She condescendingly calls Johnny "hero" and tells him their
son did not die from diphtheria as she originally had stated. In truth the boy
was killed in a car accident caused by his mother's drunken carelessness. Since
that event, she has become a witch of a woman who does as she pleases, everyone
else be damned. The defeated condition of the married couple is emphasized by
the heavy rainfall that commences after Johnny learns the bleak truth about his
son's death. Congruent with CONFLICT
(1945), SCARLET STREET (1945), MILDRED PIERCE (1945), THE STRANGE LOVE OF MARTHA IVERS (1946)
and many other noir films of this
timeframe, the marriage under consideration in THE BLUE DAHLIA is a flower without bloom.
Joyce
Harwood (Veronica Lake) is injected as the positive counterpart to the thoroughly
contemptible Helen character. Like a little blonde angel from heaven, she
scoops up Johnny on a rainy night, and is shown repeatedly in idealized
portraits (even the best of noir
women seldom can live up to those framed images to which men cling). It is
suggested Joyce is on the outs with her husband Eddie because of his tendency
toward shady business dealings. When her antithesis Helen is found dead on her
davenport, a head-scratcher of a case is born. Helen was such a miserable
person, any number of people may have had reason to kill her. A man of few
words and a strong moral code, the prime suspect Johnny becomes the film's
hard-boiled investigator. Joyce does not view Johnny as the type of man who
would knock off his wife, while the police seem less charitable. Thus THE BLUE DAHLIA serves as an early
example of the "wrong man" film
noir subgenre that would gain traction with titles such as DARK PASSAGE (1947), DESPERATE (1947), HIGH WALL (1947) and THE BIG
CLOCK (1948).
As
designed by screenwriter Raymond Chandler, THE
BLUE DAHLIA is dripping with sordid noir
characters, some of whom seem to have slithered out of the gutter amid the
drenched city streets. The Scotch-swilling, unfaithful wife Helen probably is
less known to noir fans than Chandler's
more iconic femme fatale characters who heat up the screen, i.e. Helen
Grayle (Claire Trevor) from MURDER, MY
SWEET (1944) and Carmen Sternwood (Martha Vickers) from THE BIG SLEEP (1946). Though when Helen
laughs after revealing her young son's tragic cause of death, to conjure up a
more reprehensible noir dame would be
a challenging matter. In a nice thematic touch, the nighttime rain (cleansing?) has given way to sunshine once her corpse is discovered. Another useless broad is
the overly-friendly, drunken blonde (Vera Marshe) in attendance at Helen's
party, who does nothing to advance how men might think of her gender.
Not
to be outdone by the aforementioned females, there are plenty of deplorable
males on hand. The scumbag "Dad" Newell (Will Wright) is an
opportunistic bottom feeder and one of the most manipulative of noir lowlifes. The pleasant front desk
attendant has the right idea when she brushes him off early in the film. Eddie
Harwood may be having an affair, but that is not necessarily why his wife ran
away from him. Clearly Eddie has more than his share of baggage. His business
partner Leo (Don Costello) serves as Eddie's bookkeeper, but perhaps not his best
friend. Leo implies Eddie factored in the murder of a man named Quinlan. One
gets the feeling Leo would not be above using that information to his
advantage. Similarly, Helen reminds Eddie she could make him pay for his past
when he lived on the East Coast under an alternate identity. Supporting characters
that seem to have emerged from under a rock include the thugs (Frank Faylen and
Walter Sande) who recommend a nearby flophouse after Johnny is turned away from
a more respectable establishment. The off-the-beaten-path hotel is managed by
Corelli (Howard Freeman), who operates on the same level as the creeps who
bring in Johnny. Then there is the more complex case of Buzz Wanchek, who seems
to have a problem with everyone, as when he repeatedly disrespects a
"copper" for no apparent reason. The post-traumatic stress case's
disdain for "monkey music," a term with obviously insensitive
connotations, is at odds with his deep affection for the well-being of his
friend Johnny. The war has converted Buzz into a divided personality, protective
and sweet at times, needlessly aggressive on other occasions. The theme of multiple
identities, a frequent noir bullet
point, extends to Johnny (Jimmy Moore) and Eddie Harwood (Bauer), who both out
of self-preservation assume new identities.
THE BLUE DAHLIA was
the first and only produced original screenplay from the noted crime novelist
Chandler, a WWI veteran whose experiences in combat no doubt informed his written
work. While writing THE BLUE DAHLIA,
the well-known hard drinker's creative process surely was sacrificial to his
health according to the memoirs of producer John Houseman. Chandler struggled
mightily in his attempt to finish his screenplay as the director George Marshall
began filming the work in progress. Because Marshall was catching up to
Chandler, the writer felt he would have to abandon the studio environment and
immerse himself in the bottle at home to finish the script. Though working from
home was atypical of the Hollywood process, the plan resulted in the screenplay's
completion and Chandler's second Academy Award nomination (the first was for DOUBLE INDEMNITY [1944], on which he served as a co-writer). The film's
conclusion differs from Chandler's original treatment; according to the author,
censors did not like the idea of a veteran being responsible for the murder of
Helen. Chandler was not a fan of Marshall, who introduced other changes into
the original script.
A
faithful adaptation of the written material or not, THE BLUE DAHLIA received positive notices and performed well at the
box office, perhaps in part due to its final scene that opposes much of the
pessimism that precedes it. Johnny and Joyce, both victims of mates who strayed
from them, will be afforded a second chance as the story concludes. Both strong
people, the two appear to have a good chance to make a go of it together. After
THIS GUN FOR HIRE (1942) and THE GLASS KEY (1942), THE BLUE DAHLIA was the third film to
feature Alan Ladd and Veronica Lake. They would team up once more for SAIGON (1948).
Now
available on a dual-layered Blu-ray disc from Shout! Factory as part of their
SHOUT SELECT product line, this edition of THE
BLUE DAHLIA looks far superior to the Universal DVD rendition issued in
2012 under the Turner Classic Movies Vault Collection stamp. Though the
packaging announces framing at 1.33:1, the new scan is framed at 1.36:1, which
is a much closer approximation of the original theatrical aspect ratio of
1.37:1. The crispness of this excellent HD transfer compared to the DVD from
2012 is easy enough to appreciate in the following screen captures.
Shout! Factory Blu-ray |
Universal DVD |
The
supplemental material adds considerable value to this Shout! Factory release.
The audio commentary track with film historians Alan K. Rode and Steve Mitchell
is one of the best recordings I've heard from a preparedness standpoint, even
though it never sounds overly rehearsed. Rode is especially good as he
challenges some of the myths surrounding the film's colorful history,
especially in regard to producer Houseman's perhaps self-serving account of
Chandler's screenwriting endeavors that supposedly threatened the production
schedule. Rode says Houseman's recollections do not withstand scrutiny very
well. For instance, Rode has found no evidence to confirm Marshall ever approached
a point in the production when he was running out of screenplay to film. Chandler's
claim that he was forced to alter his planned conclusion for his script due to
pressure from the U.S. Navy could not be substantiated by Rode either, and the
notion that the studio had to rush THE
BLUE DAHLIA to completion before its star Alan Ladd had to return to the
service makes no sense. There already were multiple Ladd vehicles in the can at
the time.
On
a rather depressing scale, Rode reveals unflattering details about Veronica
Lake, particularly in regard to her questionable professionalism on the set.
According to his review of THE BLUE
DAHLIA's shooting schedule, her featured scenes required many takes, which
suggests the actress was ill at ease with her dialog. Chandler derisively labeled
her "Moronica" because he felt she only maintained credibility as an
actress through silence. Lake developed a reputation of being difficult to work
with, and her later years were accelerated by heavy drug and alcohol abuse. She
died of hepatitis at the age of 50 in 1973. Her ashes went unclaimed for three
years at a funeral home.
Another
welcome bonus feature of this Shout! Factory edition is The Screen Guild
Theater's radio broadcast of THE BLUE DAHLIA (28m 27s), which originally aired
April 21, 1949, with Ladd and Lake in their original film characters. This
greatly condensed version of the film is marred by audio hum, but is
understandable for the most part; just be ready to crank the volume. The radio
episode’s sponsor Camel motivates the listener to enjoy their smooth brand of
healthier cigarettes—quite a hoot to hear today. The remaining supplements
include a theatrical trailer (2m 31s) and a very extensive photo gallery (5m).
This
healthy Blu-ray disc must be considered one of the year's most important
classic film reissues.
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