SIDE STREET (1949)

Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, 82m 57s

As director Anthony Mann's opening credits unspool before a God-like perspective of New York City, it is made abundantly clear SIDE STREET will be the sort of urban story that could not take place anywhere else. According to our narrator Captain Walter Anderson (Paul Kelly), 8 million people call this huge city home. A suitable setting for film noir preoccupations, the sprawling streets of NYC are for many a place of anonymity and unimportance, an environment where people who live close together might hardly know one another. It is an atmosphere of unusual and sometimes frightening statistics, too, such as one murder per calendar day. Given the large number of people who populate “the city that never sleeps” and the economic circumstances that differentiate them, it seems self-evident some folks might feel excluded. That sense of economic dislocation is alluded to through occasionally erratic camera movements that give additional dimension to the opening credits sequence. I suspect the sometimes unsteady camerawork is more a reality of location shooting via helicopter than anything put fourth intentionally to convey thematic weight, nonetheless it is an effect that injects nuance into the distinctly big city noir story about to be told.

The major protagonist is a poster boy for the pronounced class differences that define large urban areas. Joe Norson (Farley Granger) is a failed businessman who now drudges around town as a letter carrier. Like scores of film noir characters, he dreams of material plenty, but more for his pregnant wife Ellen Norson (Cathy O'Donnell) than himself. He adores Ellen and thinks she deserves a floor-grazing mink coat. For the time being, however, the cash-strapped couple resides at the home of her parents, where it appears money problems are generational. Mr. and Mrs. Malby (Harry Antrim and Esther Somers) bicker over money and the impossibility of retirement. Joe's own shaky financial position changes due to his chance connection to a blackmail scheme. Prosperous broker Emil Lorrison (Paul Harvey) is the noir sap ensnared in a sex scandal engineered by scumbag attorney Victor Backett (Edmon Ryan) with help from his shady accomplices Georgie Garsell (James Craig), a violent ex-con, and Lucille "Lucky" Colne (Adele Jergens), who sarcastically calls her mark "grandpa." The extraction of money from the broker leads to the discovery of Lucille's lifeless body floating in the East River. As the singularly noir element of fate would have it, Victor’s office happens to be part of Joe's delivery route. When Joe notices Victor's door ajar, Joe seizes the opportunity and swipes a folder from the lawyer's file cabinet. Expecting to have made off with $200, Joe is stunned to realize he has taken possession of $30,000.

With no believable explanation for his newfound wealth, Joe tells his wife he has secured a new job via a trusted old friend. But in compliance with a durable Hollywood tradition, abrupt prosperity brings Joe nothing but misery. He is reduced to a state of paranoia the instant he steals the money. As he feigns respectable employment, he incongruously relocates to a fleabag hotel that is in dire need of renovation. Uncomfortable with holding the large sum of stolen money, Joe unwisely leaves the cash in a small package explained as something else at the bar tended by Nick Drumman (Edwin Max). Business is not exactly booming, and Nick claims turning the neon on will not help matters (even though in theory such basic marketing only could help). He seems oddly defeated, perhaps even more oppressed by the city than Joe, who does not recognize Nick might be susceptible to the identical impulses that converted a humble mail carrier into a thief. Nick is too much like Joe to be entrusted with money storage, especially the heavy coin dropped off by Joe. After Nick attempts to start a new life with the hot money he rips off from Joe, the barkeep is corrected in about the worst possible way. Nick's death by strangulation, triggered by his own greed, causes Joe to become a suspect on the run from local authorities. Greed not only is punished in SIDE STREET, the penalty has a compounding effect for the instigator.

The little man's desire for more stifled by the oppressor's unwillingness to share

"Lucky" becomes a statistic

Joe is framed in this composition to suggest he is about to make a mistake

What was thought to be a mere $200 is in fact life-changing money

The duality of man:  this mirror emphasizes Joe's potential to be two different
people:  both harmless letter carrier and a man capable of gun violence

The wife doesn't get the truth

A core essence of the film noir is the idea that an ordinary person could become a criminal sought by authorities, the criminal underworld, or both. Just one wrong step might be all it takes to go from law-abiding citizen to wanted man (or, less often, woman). That is the indefatigable engine that drives many of the most thematically rich noir films, which include the likes of DOUBLE INDEMNITY (1944), DETOUR (1945), SCARLET STREET (1945), THE BLUE DAHLIA (1946), THE BIG CLOCK (1948) and GUN CRAZY (1950), along with an assortment of others. SIDE STREET really promotes the idea that Joe's personal trap could be stumbled into by anyone. The narrative is carefully sympathetic to Joe, who is presented as not a bad person, just a good fella who made a poor decision. And boy does he have to pay after he steals for (in his mind, anyway) altruistic reasons. He convinces himself an extra few hundred dollars would make a significant difference to his emerging family. The level of hardship he then encounters underscores the perennial Hollywood theme that money cannot buy happiness. One fateful mistake, brought about by a feeling he and his wife should live better than they do, paves the road toward Joe sought as a clothesline murderer. In the process he endures not only psychological pain, but plenty of physical abuse. In an especially tense moment while he is absorbing punishment from the thugs from whom he stole, Joe makes a leap of faith to escape from their vehicle. He barely avoids getting flattened by a formidable oncoming vehicle. Everywhere he goes seems fraught with danger, and Joe's misfortune is not atypical of the many returning soldier characters that appear in film noir. The WWII vet alienated from a society he risked his own life to defend is a stock component of noir mechanics. Men struggle to re-enter society in a positive way or get pulled into a sordid criminal underworld in THE BLUE DAHLIA, THE KILLERS (1946), SOMEWHERE IN THE NIGHT (1946), CROSSFIRE (1947), OUT OF THE PAST (1947), RIDE THE PINK HORSE (1947), THE CROOKED WAY (1949), THE SNIPER (1952) and THE KILLER IS LOOSE (1956).

The constellation of recurring female archetypes in film noir tends to be small. The genre is heavily reliant upon the diametrically opposed categories of Madonna and whore, and that is what is going on in SIDE STREET to a large degree. Even so, the film grants some discernible textures to these often too rigid character types. Ellen is the supportive domestic figure who unconditionally loves her husband Joe, though she inadvertently puts pressure on him to keep the sort of cash rolling in not possible via letter delivery. In that sense she contributes to her husband's errant decision to steal money. Almost always there is a sense of blandness about the domestic woman, who offers stability but little in the way of excitement. Across from Ellen stands Lucille, who exudes bold sexual confidence just by standing a certain way. No doubt she delivers enjoyable nights to male company, but she is a manipulative woman of scorn whose callous deception will make any man wish he never saw her. More sympathetic is the hard-drinking night club singer Harriet Sinton (Jean Hagen and her unmistakable speaking voice), who tolerates an abusive relationship with the always dangerous goon Georgie. Though Harriet reveals more capacity for decency than Lucille, both women are shown to be completely disposable when of no further value to Victor and his gang. SIDE STREET veers into misogyny when a milkman (Ralph Montgomery) witnesses Georgie strangling Harriet, only to mistake the brutish murder for playful romance. There is a similarly creepy moment in MYSTERY STREET (1950), when the just murdered Vivian Heldon (Jan Sterling) is held upright as if in a loving embrace. The intermingling of sex and death is another trope that adds a layer of darkness to an already gloomy genre. Film noir carries a shadowed legacy that closely associates sex with death, especially sex outside of marriage. The tradition was established properly in DOUBLE INDEMNITY, in which sex anticipates murder. It can work the other way, too; the same year, LAURA (1944) entangles sexual longing with a man's unrelenting gaze at a portrait of a woman thought to be dead.

Attached to its compliance with established film noir gender roles, SIDE STREET challenges the sustainability of the nuclear family. Beyond the financial issues that plague Joe and Ellen Norson, there are related difficulties they face. For example, Joe's son is born while he is away from his wife, and later an on-the-run Joe must make a clandestine visit to her hospital bed. Joe thinks money will bring he and his wife closer together, but naturally the opposite is true. The film concludes with the narrator's assurance that Joe can be rehabilitated into decent society, but that assumption is called into question as Joe is driven away in an ambulance with his onlooking wife not along for the ride. It is a telling choice in terms of camera placement; the implication is Joe is a basically good guy worth preserving, but his relationship with his wife might take time to restore. In contrast to the somewhat fragile but repairable union between Joe and Ellen is the alternate noir family created by the lawyer Victor, career criminal Georgie and cab driver Larry Giff (Harry Bellaver), a sinister merger between white-collar and blue-collar criminals. Though I do not see a strong homoerotic subtext between the members of this alternative family, here again is a case where a crime network's crucial long-term players all happen to be male, with women only making supportive contributions as required before being discarded. In the gritty urban locale with all its complexities, could it be the all-male criminal family is the easier family unit to get kickstarted? The generous, legitimate job-giver related by Joe to his wife is in fact a fictitious person. But as it turns out, the masculine criminal family is not built for long-term success. Most interesting, the ultimate disruption of the alternate family emerges when Larry panics during the climactic getaway sequence. He cites his biological family as important to him, which prompts his partner in crime Georgie to execute him! Few sequences better establish the noir film's framing of family maintenance as difficult or impossible. As Nick the bartender puts it, "...I never got married. Raising a family makes a guy jumpy."

Granger exceeds the requirements of this scene with his grabby handling of O’Donnell

After Joe receives a gentle kick from his wife to be a consistent
provider, he is framed to suggest entrapment in the ensuing scene

Environmental danger that is uniquely urban

Stolen money leads to the demise of an opportunistic barkeep

Everyday household items within the frame sometimes cover more ground than the main
protagonist, a cinematic tactic that suggests the unimportance of the average person

Shadows threaten to consume everyman Joe Norson

I consider SIDE STREET an underrated film noir, in part because Granger and O’Donnell were paired more memorably in THEY LIVE BY NIGHT (1948). What the newer film certainly has going for it is a lot of convincing NYC location footage, along with early use of helicopter footage. The climactic car chase that plays out in Lower Manhattan is well constructed by director Anthony Mann and relays a splendid sense of desperate speed. Director of photography Joseph Ruttenberg was not often connected with productions that have a noir flavor, though he did handle the cinematography for GASLIGHT (1944), THE BRIBE (1949), CAUSE FOR ALARM! (1951) and KIND LADY (1951). Ruttenberg shows good understanding of the film noir visual delivery mode with frequent oblique camera angles that suggest an atmosphere of oppression, along with entrapping shadows that illustrate a character's slippery situation. Original story contributor and screenwriter Sydney Boehm worked for wire services and newspapers before his transition to screenwriting. His film noir writing credits include HIGH WALL (1947), MYSTERY STREET, UNION STATION (1950) and THE BIG HEAT (1953), one of the finest of all film noirs. Not sure whose idea it was, but I like the way the newspaper headlines persistently portray shameless exploitation, i.e. Lucille's "love diary." The staple film noir narration seems mostly unnecessary as employed here; the visual information related to the viewer could be understood were the film a silent movie. Noir fans are sure to appreciate the iconic presence of Charles McGraw as cop Stanley Simon, as well as film noir regular Whit Bissell as the milquetoast Harold Simpsen. SIDE STREET did not become a box office moneymaker for MGM. Box office receipts totaled $448,000 in the U.S. and Canada and $323,000 in other markets. The end result was a $467,000 loss.

Now available on Blu-ray as part of the Warner Archive Collection, SIDE STREET looks smooth in motion with solid contrast, framed at the original theatrical aspect ratio of 1.37:1. As the screen captures within this review testify, the film grain looks natural enough. The dual-layered Blu-ray contains the audio commentary track contributed by Richard Schickel for the DVD edition of SIDE STREET issued by Warner Home Video in 2007. The longtime film critic for TIME magazine notes the film under review reflects the presence of Dore Schary at MGM, who favored unflinching material over the escapist subject matter for which Louis B. Mayer was well known. Schickel spends a good amount of time on the uniquely urban aspect of SIDE STREET and how that element is portrayed. From the opening credits, the large city oppresses small people as carefully chosen camera angles stress the imposing size of the area buildings. A terrific example of this involves the car chase that closes the film, during which overhead shots convey a rats-in-maze effect. Schickel employs accepted cultural/historical film noir analysis for those who might be new to the genre, as when he mentions typical noir protagonists are indebted to hardboiled characters created by American crime novelists such as Dashiell Hammett, Raymond Chandler and W. R. Burnett. And for those already familiar with the film noir origin story, he shows a good eye for noir tropes that might not jump out at everyone. For instance, Joe Norson covers the same territory as many film noir protagonists in that he passes between every imaginable American social stratum, a journey that makes class distinctions more conspicuous. Another insightful Schickel observation is that people who populate film noirs often cling to people they would be better off without. A prime example in this film involves Harriet's ill-fated attraction to Georgie. Schickel finds a strong sense of authenticity to Cathy O'Donnell's presence, that there is something inherently girl-next-door about her. I cannot argue that, but at times I find her performance a little off-putting, especially when her feminine gaze at Farley Granger looks annoyingly vacuous. Also ported from the DVD is the featurette "SIDE STREET: Where Temptation Lurks" (2007, 5m 49s), which commends the location work captured by cinematographer Joseph Ruttenberg while giving a succinct overview of the production and its relevance.

The wrong man becomes front-page material

Shadows that resemble prison bars mark Joe

The WWII vet accused of a crime he did not commit

Noir city as fitting backdrop for the man in hiding

Noir lighting kept to a bare minimum

After Larry expresses family concerns, he is stopped by Georgie

New supplemental material for this Blu-ray edition features the sardonically entitled MGM short film "The Luckiest Guy in the World" (1947, 21m 9s), directed by Joseph M. Newman, who later helmed some respectable noirs, including ABANDONED (1949), 711 OCEAN DRIVE (1950) and DANGEROUS CROSSING (1953). With this short film, Newman needs just over 20 minutes to cover what most noir films explore in 80 minutes. Charles Vurn (Barry Nelson) is one of those dreamers who thinks he is one lucky dice roll away from easy street. He accidentally kills his wife Martha (Eloise Hardt) as he forcefully confiscates her inheritance money, then ironically learns he did not need her cash as desperately as he thought. He then assumes the identity of another man, only to learn he must resurrect the former self he destroyed. Also selectable is a pair of classic MGM cartoons:  "Polka-Dot Puss" (1949, 7m 45s) and "Goggle Fishing Bear" (1949, 7m 21s).

A theatrical trailer (2m 25s) is the last of the extras.