MY NAME IS JULIA ROSS (1945)

Columbia Pictures, 64m 58s

An adaptation of the Anthony Gilbert novel THE WOMAN IN RED, written for the screen by Muriel Roy Bolton, this rousing B-picture was directed by Joseph H. Lewis, who would go on to direct two of the most deservedly famous film noirs:  GUN CRAZY (1950) and THE BIG COMBO (1955).

Fire destroys an image of Julia Ross (Nina Foch)
Interestingly, the restoration of Ross involves water

Shot in 18 days on Columbia's backlots, MY NAME IS JULIA ROSS begins properly enough for a noir film, with our protagonist introduced upon rain-soaked streets. Londoner Julia Ross (Nina Foch) is looking for work with a certain sense of desperation. She learns of a secretarial position available with a Mrs. Hughes (Dame May Whitty), who seeks an applicant of unwavering commitment. Ross pledges she has no personal life to speak of that may interfere with her job performance, and agrees to move in with Hughes. Soon after that, the Hughes family leaves London behind for an isolated seaside estate in Cornwall. Ross awakens from a lengthy drug-induced slumber to be greeted as Marion Hughes. Her "husband" Ralph Hughes (George Macready) does not seem to be all there, as he makes a habit of destroying household fixtures with obsessive knifework in repeated displays of symbolic impotence. Sort of makes you wonder what happened to the original Marion Hughes.

The unlucky Ross falls into an extremely dark place through no fault of her own—all she wanted was a job! Her disorientation begins with being drugged, then she must endure being treated as someone she knows very well she is not. MY NAME IS JULIA ROSS anticipates the better-known noir films SORRY, WRONG NUMBER (1948) and SUDDEN FEAR (1952), both of which feature women being targeted by their own husbands. There is also a connection to "walking dead" noir permutations like DETOUR (1945) and DECOY (1946). In terms of setting, MY NAME IS JULIA ROSS involves a woman being menaced within the confines of a gated gothic environment, similar to the same year's THE SPIRAL STAIRCASE (1945). Ross even encounters a treacherous staircase in a particularly suspenseful sequence (staircase danger is an overused but stylistically bankable noir trope).

A Nosferatu-like presence torments Ross (Nina Foch)

Some traditional elements of the horror narrative come into play in MY NAME IS JULIA ROSS, especially in regard to visuals. Cinematographer Burnett Guffey's compositions recurrently emphasize the presence of closed doors, barred windows, elaborate fences, and imprisoning shadows. Guffey would work on a large number of high quality noir productions, including JOHNNY O'CLOCK (1947), IN A LONELY PLACE (1950), and THE SNIPER (1952), to name just a few. He teamed with Lewis again on SO DARK THE NIGHT (1946) and THE UNDERCOVER MAN (1949).

A personality oppressed via imagery

A commercial success, MY NAME IS JULIA ROSS likely influenced future noir films with horrific sequences like NIGHTMARE ALLEY (1947) and THE WINDOW (1949), as well as color thrillers that emerged in the '60s, i.e. DIE! DIE! MY DARLING! (1965) and THE COLLECTOR (1965). MY NAME IS JULIA ROSS would be remade as DEAD OF WINTER in 1987.

The noir psychopath usually comes to a bad end, as he does in MY NAME IS JULIA ROSS

Part of the Turner Classic Movies Vault Collection from Sony Pictures Home Entertainment, the Columbia Pictures Film Noir Classics III 5-disc DVD set contains a 1.33:1 presentation of MY NAME IS JULIA ROSS, along with some worthwhile supplemental material.

NIGHTFALL (1957)

Columbia Pictures, 78m 54s

The archetypal money satchel gets a workout in NIGHTFALL, an ambitious outing from the great director Jacques Tourneur, a pioneer in the art of horror noir, i.e. CAT PEOPLE (1942) and I WALKED WITH A ZOMBIE (1943). Written for the screen by Stirling Silliphant (5 AGAINST THE HOUSE [1955], THE LINEUP [1958]) and based on a novel by crime fiction writer David Goodis, NIGHTFALL concentrates on the whereabouts of the aforementioned satchel and its $350,000 of stolen money inside.

Heavy machinery spells danger in Jacques Tourneur's NIGHTFALL

In a nod to the noir form popularized in the ‘40s, and Tourneur’s own OUT OF THE PAST (1947) constitutes a prime example, present day complications have their basis in past events that are revealed via multiple flashbacks. The lead protagonist is Chicago-based commercial artist and veteran Art Rayburn (Aldo Ray in a likeable turn), who currently masquerades as James Vanning for reasons that are not apparent at the outset. So alienated from society is Rayburn that he carries no identification. He picks up model Marie Gardner (Anne Bancroft) only to become entrapped by John (Brian Keith) and his unbalanced accomplice Red (Rudy Bond in the noir psychopath role), a couple of bank robbers in search of their lost heist money, which lies somewhere in the vast mountainous wilderness of Wyoming. Rayburn knows—roughly, anyway—where the loot is.

Art Rayburn (Aldo Ray) and Marie Gardner (Anne Bancroft)

In a departure from the noir form of tarnished characters, our point of identification in NIGHTFALL is at no fault for his predicament. The wrong-man-on-the-run Rayburn finds himself pursued by not only the two crooks, but determined insurance man Ben Fraser (James Gregory). Rayburn is deceived, beat down, shot at, chased relentlessly, and suspected of getting rid of his hunting and fishing buddy Ed Gurston (Frank Albertson), who left behind a widow linked romantically to Rayburn. The classic noir element of randomness is palpable, especially when Rayburn explains to Gardner in no uncertain terms that fate brought them together, “Because you were unlucky enough to talk to me tonight.”

Red (Rudy Bond) toys with Art Rayburn (Aldo Ray)

The narrative is introduced in the traditional urban locales in which noir stories so often play out, then Tourneur and cinematographer Burnett Guffey (IN A LONELY PLACE [1950]) explore rural exteriors—atypical staging for the noir film, but not unique (ROAD HOUSE [1948], ON DANGEROUS GROUND [1951], CRY VENGEANCE [1954]). The mise-en-scène comes exceptionally tough for 1957, as when John and Red confront Rayburn at an oil field. And whenever the expansive snow-covered landscape is emphasized, as when Rayburn flees a murder scene while carrying the money satchel, and when a character meets a grisly fate via a most unforgiving snow blower truck, the progenitor of FARGO (1996) is strikingly evident.

My best fiend

The title track performed by Al Hibbler does not compliment this otherwise outstanding film noir, by far one of the most accomplished of programmer length. Tourneur’s suspenseful CURSE OF THE DEMON also was released in 1957. A clean-looking 1.85:1 anamorphic presentation of NIGHTFALL is available as part of the 5-film Columbia Pictures Film Noir Classics II DVD set available from Sony Pictures Home Entertainment.

TOO LATE FOR TEARS (1949) and ROADBLOCK (1951)

NOIR CITY 6: IT’S A BITTER LITTLE WORLD

Music Box Theatre, Chicago, IL

Friday, August 29th – Thursday, September 4th, 2014

Last night NOIR CITY 6 got started properly with the Film Noir Foundation's new 35mm restoration of TOO LATE FOR TEARS (1949, United Artists, 99m), pieced together from three different sources over a 5-year(!) period according to film historian and festival host Alan K. Rode.

Jane (Lizabeth Scott) and Alan (Arthur Kennedy) review finances in TOO LATE FOR TEARS

Even for a film noir femme fatale, Jane Palmer (Lizabeth Scott) is exceptionally venomous. She and her husband Alan (Arthur Kennedy) get possession of a sizeable satchel of money, which makes Alan nervous from the get-go. But Jane thinks her prayers have been answered, and will do absolutely anything to keep the money. Another claimant to the cash emerges, tough guy Danny Fuller (Dan Duryea), who does not hesitate to get rough with Jane when she proves uncooperative. Danny is used to having the upper hand with women, it seems, but it is not long before Jane starts to effectively manipulate him, as she does everyone else. She's so single-mindedly greedy and vicious even Danny can't believe it; his final look at her says it all.

Working from a screenplay by Roy Huggins (THE FUGITIVE [1963–1967], THE ROCKFORD FILES [1974–1980]), director Byron Haskin (I WALK ALONE [1947]) subtly drags the viewer uncomfortably close to the violent subject matter. TOO LATE FOR TEARS is one of the most complete examples of late '40s-era noir to feature Lizabeth Scott, though Rode noted this is not one of her favorites (the retired actress is still alive, now in her early 90s). This new restoration is not perfect—some artifacts sprout up from time to time—but overall this is a terrific presentation of TOO LATE FOR TEARS, and it was received enthusiastically by last night's large audience. Let's hope this resurrected noir treasure gets the Blu-ray or DVD reissue it so richly deserves.

Next up was a newly-created 35mm print of ROADBLOCK (1951, RKO Radio Pictures, 73m). Directed by Harold Daniels, it's another story with a large quantity of cash at its center, but a more mild brand of femme fatale. Insurance investigator "Honest Joe” Peters (Charles McGraw) earns $350 a month, hardly enough to maintain the interest of a sexy young brunette like Diane (Joan Dixon). Based on some inside information, Joe devises a plan working with local racketeer Kendall Webb (Lowell Gilmore) to secure sufficient funding to provide for Diane's needs. Rather amazingly, Diane does an about face regarding the importance of money. More predictably, it is not possible to cancel the crime operation that has been initiated.

This is a supremely entertaining "downward spiral" B-noir, with McGraw offering his usual assertive performance. The suspense builds to a climactic chase within the concrete confines of the Los Angeles River, a sequence well covered by cinematographer Nicholas Musuraca (CAT PEOPLE [1942], OUT OF THE PAST [1947]). ROADBLOCK is available as a made-to-order DVD via the Warner Archive.

This year's week-long NOIR CITY event has an international flair. Complete information on remaining showtimes can be found here:

http://www.musicboxtheatre.com/festivals/noir-city-6-its-a-bitter-little-world

For film fans of all kinds, attendance is mandatory.

THE BIG SLEEP (1946)

Warner Bros., 113m 51s

With the passing of Lauren Bacall on August 12^th at the age of 89, one of the last of the classic Hollywood screen legends has left us. Born Betty Joan Perske, Bacall was just 19 years of age when the tall, slender actress stole scenes in her screen debut, TO HAVE AND HAVE NOT (1944), directed by the great Howard Hawks. Her appeal was so obvious that her original role actually expanded while filming progressed. What more famously expanded was her relationship with her co-star Humphrey Bogart, who would become her husband in 1945. Bacall would be matched with her husband next in the film noir under review here, with Hawks again directing and co-producing, despite the fact he did not much care for the personal relationship between Bogart and Bacall.

The Look

As convoluted as THE BIG SLEEP becomes, its exposition is straightforward enough. Recently fired by the D.A. for insubordination, 38-year-old P.I. Philip Marlowe (Bogart) arrives at the Sternwood residence in LA. Almost instantly he is greeted by the flirtatious but vacuous Carmen Sternwood (Martha Vickers). Adorned in short shorts, she throws herself at Marlowe even before he gets to meet the family patriarch who has requested the detective's services. General Sternwood (Charles Waldron), paralyzed in both legs, is the polar opposite of his youngest daughter. The film noir landscape is rife with crippled males, and Gen. Sternwood is probably the preeminent example. He has more in common with plants than he does people; his blood is so thin he and his wheelchair are confined to the greenhouse. Sternwood is being blackmailed—again—and wants Marlowe to look into his youngest daughter Carmen's alleged gambling debts.

Marlowe (Humphrey Bogart) finds Carmen (Martha Vickers) in a mind-altered state

It would be futile to attempt to explain much beyond the abbreviated plot summary above. THE BIG SLEEP truly seems new every time you see Marlowe follow the trail of the dead. Noir conventions get started early and are persistent throughout the narrative. After reckless female sexuality is made perfectly clear, the tone-setting noir motif of rain soon punctuates Marlowe's investigation, and a maddeningly complex plot structure settles in, generally in nocturnal settings. There is also a WWII-era distrust of all things Oriental, as personified by the mysterious character Arthur Gwynn Geiger (Theodore von Eltz).

Based on the 1939 novel by Raymond Chandler, his first to feature Marlowe, THE BIG SLEEP was adapted for the screen by William Faulkner, Leigh Brackett and Jules Furthman. No doubt the sheer number of contributors added to the film's disjointed structure, but the source material was itself an amalgam of different Chandler stories. No matter, it's the hard boiled dialog that really makes this production get up on its feet. Bogart makes a terrific tough-talking detective, as he had proven beyond a shadow of a doubt in John Huston's THE MALTESE FALCON (1941). No matter the situation, Marlowe knows how to react effectively. He plays whatever is in front of him for all it's worth. No wonder Carmen and her big sister Vivian Rutledge (Bacall) are not the only women who express an interest in Marlowe. Other attractive women offer him a green light, including a schoolboy-fantasy book shop owner (Dorothy Malone) and a cute taxi driver (Joy Barlow).

Of course, only one female character is of serious interest to Marlowe, and she is played by Bacall. Interestingly, Bacall's character was developed further while a version of THE BIG SLEEP completed in early 1945 was getting lonely on the shelf at Warner. While the studio rushed more time-sensitive war stories to the theatrical market, Bacall's agent Charles K. Feldman lobbied Jack L. Warner to revise THE BIG SLEEP to include more of Bacall, who had received alarmingly bad notices for CONFIDENTIAL AGENT (1945). One of the new scenes interjected has become one of THE BIG SLEEP's best remembered:  the sexually-charged conversation between Bogart and Bacall about horse racing. Bacall is in sexual beast mode here, and it’s easy to forget that even with the additional material created for the 1946 release, THE BIG SLEEP is really Bogart’s vehicle. Another great scene that combines the two is also playful, with the duo antagonizing the police desk over the phone. The one chink in Bacall's armor was her singing voice, which is average at best as she offers her rendition of "And Her Tears Flowed Like Wine."

"A lot depends on who's in the saddle."

Sharing a fun moment

Despite rewrites, reshoots, and an extremely delayed release, theatrical audiences didn't seem to object to the final product. THE BIG SLEEP became the third-highest grossing Warner release of 1946. Warner paired up Bogart and Bacall again in the mediocre DARK PASSAGE (1947) and the superb KEY LARGO (1948). Most of THE BIG SLEEP was shot on Warner backlots by cinematographer Sidney Hickox (TO HAVE AND HAVE NOT, DARK PASSAGE, WHITE HEAT [1949]). As of this writing, the Warner Home Video DVD is readily available, and it contains both the 1945 prerelease version (116m 12s) and the more familiar 1946 version, as well as a brief featurette that helpfully documents the major differences between the two.

Darkness sets in on Marlowe (Humphrey Bogart)

Director Michael Winner remade THE BIG SLEEP in 1978, with Robert Mitchum starring as Marlowe. Definitely worth a look, especially for fans of the revisionist noir movement of the 1970s.

THE BIG COMBO (1955)

Allied Artists Pictures, 87m 52s

A masterful achievement in film noir:  THE BIG COMBO

Lieutenant Leonard Diamond (Cornel Wilde, LEAVE HER TO HEAVEN [1945], ROAD HOUSE [1948]) has been investigating notorious big timer Mr. Brown (Richard Conte) for years, but cannot make anything stick. Captain Peterson (Robert Middleton) lectures Diamond about lost time and money spent in hopeless pursuit of an untouchable, but Diamond is not discouraged easily. The lieutenant's determination is explained in part by his more than merely professional interest in Brown's beautiful blonde girlfriend Susan Lowell (Wilde's wife Jean Wallace). After an attempted suicide, Lowell mumbles the name "Alicia," which Diamond correctly identifies as an important lead when it comes to putting away the maddeningly elusive Brown.

L-R:  Fante (Lee Van Cleef), Susan Lowell (Jean Wallace) and Mingo (Earl Holliman)

Lowell is a decent, cultured woman, ostensibly the antithesis of the arrogant crime lord Brown, who hates her passion for classical music (though definitely a man of means, he's connected to the low-brow culture of professional prizefighting). Why would such a woman become attracted to a man like Brown? The answer is suggested memorably when Brown disappears from a close-up to focus his attention on Lowell below her neck (a controversial scene that infuriated Wilde).

Brown (Richard Conte, off-camera) pleasures Susan Lowell (Jean Wallace)

While attending a piano concert, Lowell reveals, "I live in a maze, Mr. Diamond, a strange, blind and backward maze, and all the little twisting paths lead back to Mr. Brown." As obsessed as he is, Diamond could have made a similar statement at this juncture. In a related sequence, Brown mutates his girlfriend's passion for music into an unnervingly painful torture session for Diamond (and the viewer).

Can you hear me now?

The other featured females of THE BIG COMBO effectively elevate Lowell the gangster moll to respectability. Alicia (Helen Walker) is a lush who became an embarrassment to Brown. Diamond's plaything Rita (Helene Stanton) is a dancehall girl who lives with less consideration than she deserves from her part-time lover. Conventional man/woman relationships all have their issues in THE BIG COMBO. The most loving relationship in the film is between Fante (Lee Van Cleef) and Mingo (Earl Holliman), a romantic angle that seems strikingly overt for an American film released almost 60 years ago.

L-R:  Fante (Lee Van Cleef), Joe McClure (Brian Donlevy) and Mingo (Earl Holliman)

Leonard Diamond (Cornel Wilde) and Rita (Helene Stanton)

Actors again face the camera in conversation:  a popular noir convention

Screenwriter Philip Yordan was a creative power behind a number of notable noirs before the production of THE BIG COMBO, such as THE CHASE (1946), HOUSE OF STRANGERS (1949), PANIC IN THE STREETS (1950), NO WAY OUT (1950) and DETECTIVE STORY (1951). The emphatic chiaroscuro B&W imagery captured by cinematographer John Alton is among the most expressionistic of the mid-'50s noir strain. Alton had served behind the camera for some other gritty noir classics, including T-MEN (1947), RAW DEAL (1948), HE WALKED BY NIGHT (1948), and the underappreciated MYSTERY STREET (1950). Director Joseph H. Lewis adapted the ending of his top-tier noir GUN CRAZY (1950) to conclude THE BIG COMBO, with unseen police voices, again obscured by fog, closing in on the criminal.

A new beginning is implied when the principals turn away from the camera

Having earned his noir stripes in CALL NORTHSIDE 777 (1948), HOUSE OF STRANGERS (1949), THIEVES' HIGHWAY (1949), WHIRLPOOL (1949), and THE BLUE GARDENIA (1953), Conte is superb as the confident, smooth-talking hoodlum fond of imparting life lessons to all those he encounters. Sadly, the behavior of the Lowell character reflects the troubled life of Wallace, who attempted suicide twice in the 1940s.

Restored by UCLA Film & Television Archive in association with The Film Foundation, the Blu-ray available from Olive Films is not entirely free from artifacts, but it’s newly re-mastered in HD, framed at 1.78:1, and a nice upgrade for film noir fans.