SUNSET BOULEVARD (1950)

Paramount Pictures, 110m 17s

The film noir genre is a grim category in terms of its outlook on human existence, and director Billy Wilder's SUNSET BOULEVARD is one of the more depressing instances of an already dark tradition. Even if one is fortunate enough to carve out a career in Hollywood, what happens after one's starpower inevitably fades? SUNSET BOULEVARD offers no parachute after the ripcord is pulled, and it is a long way down.

Like Wilder's DOUBLE INDEMNITY (1944), two people who need each other are brought together in SUNSET BOULEVARD, but what seems expedient for both proves mutually disastrous. Wilder began DOUBLE INDEMNITY with narration from a dying man; SUNSET BOULEVARD's narrator Joe Gillis (William Holden) already is dead as the story opens! Most of the remaining narrative plays out in flashback form, with the dead man Gillis as humble narrator. An ex-journalist and former resident of Dayton, Ohio, Gillis is trying to make it as a screenwriter in Hollywood. His financial position is such that his car has been targeted by fiercely determined repossession agents. Gillis reaches out in desperation to colleagues within the film industry for assistance, to no avail.

The dead pool

Gillis is resigned to a humiliating return to his home state, but the mysterious noir force of fate intervenes. Gillis suddenly finds himself at the dilapidated Desmond estate, where Norma Desmond (Gloria Swanson) reclusively resides. She was the goddess of silent films, thoroughly forgotten today. Her surroundings are in shambles, her swimming pool is dry. The only fan mail she receives is composed by her stone-faced manservant Max Von Mayerling (Erich von Stroheim), who does his damnedest to keep his employer feeling relevant. Desmond is in love with the idea of fans still in love with her. Based on the trustworthiness for which Sagittarians are noted, she offers Gillis a hopeless writing project, and he sees an opportunity to make ends meet. Desmond soon gets other ideas about the relationship that somehow come as a surprise to Gillis, who ultimately prostitutes himself in a sleazy attempt to advance his status in Hollywood.

"I am big. It's the pictures that got small."

Desmond cannot face the simple fact that Hollywood has moved on without its premier female star of the silent era. The castaway nonetheless maintains a pathetic pomposity, despite the 20-year lapse since her last feature role. She surrounds herself with images of her former celebrity, and screens her own silent films at home on a regular basis. Her touring car is monogrammed. The way she orders Max around is deplorable, especially in light of the long-term history between them. She is the most insufferable combination imaginable of bitchy and needy, a has-been with suicidal tendencies. Her only friends are bridge-playing "waxworks" left over from the silent era, tellingly portrayed by Buster Keaton, Anna Q. Nilsson, and H.B. Warner. Current studio personnel who remember the fossil Desmond are old-timers. The only division of Paramount to take serious note of today's Desmond is Paramount News, whose agents descend upon the Desmond residence after she becomes a news story in about the worst imaginable way.

Without a doubt, Desmond is a contributory factor in the downfall of Gillis, but she is something other than a traditional film noir femme fatale. Though arrogant and painfully out-of-touch with reality, she begins to earn our sympathy when she plans a New Year's Eve party for two. When she expresses her genuine affection for an indifferent Gillis at poolside, the sequence is shot to make Gillis the heel. It is especially heartbreaking to witness Desmond’s delusional return to the Paramount lot, where Cecil B. DeMille (playing himself) views her visit as an uncomfortable distraction from his work on SAMSON AND DELILAH (1949) on Stage 18. In a particularly insulting moment on the set, Desmond is bothered by a boom mic, one of the primary instruments of her career's destruction. Betty Schaefer (Nancy Olson) is more than just the youthful antithesis of the aging Desmond; Schaefer represents the ambitious new generation of Hollywood hopefuls who will replace the names of the past. Anyone who has held a long-term job can identify with the displaced relic Desmond. We would like to think we are indispensible in the workplace, yet in truth any of us can be replaced. That reality is disconcerting, but unavoidable. Every individual has a shelf life.

House of horrors

Eyes upon us

An indictment of the sometimes unfair Hollywood system, SUNSET BOULEVARD is a film noir that imports elements from the horror genre to meaningful effect. In terms of setting, a mansion in ruins houses an organ that is given a voice by the wind. Recreational areas have fallen into complete disrepair, surrounded by out-of-control vegetation. After he is shown to the spare room above the garage, where low camera positioning emphasizes his containment, Gillis describes what he sees outside:

"...the whole place seemed to have been stricken with a kind of creepy paralysis, out of beat with the rest of the world, crumbling apart in slow motion."

The same could be said about Desmond. As the sequence continues, animals are likened to people. In an extremely unflattering implication, Gillis is linked to the rats that infest Desmond's empty pool, where he ultimately finds the Hollywood fame he had found so elusive. Soon after the rats are shown, the burial of Desmond's monkey provides a disturbing metaphor for past and future husbands. Gillis is associated mistakenly with the expired creature when he first meets Desmond, but at this juncture effectively replaces the creature to become Desmond's new pet.

Of course every house of horrors requires a resident crazy, and Desmond doesn't disappoint. With her large eyes wide open, head tilted back, and claw-like hands, Desmond hardly could pass for anyone's definition of normal. The exaggerated acting style of the silent cinema has taken over her mind and body, to the point Desmond doesn't really exist anymore, other than as a mechanical walking-dead figure who no longer functions in the outside world. The film's conclusion, which emphasizes Desmond's connection with the audience, anticipates Norman Bates (Anthony Perkins) speaking as his mother at the end of Alfred Hitchcock's PSYCHO (1960). Both Wilder and Hitchcock recognized something perversely binding about a theatrical audience's shared connection with a disturbed protagonist. In both cases, the characters register awareness of the audience eyes upon them, and seek some form of acceptance from a world that has, foolishly it seems, relegated them to isolated old houses other people only encounter by accident. We may not want Desmond or Bates for a neighbor, but as viewers of SUNSET BOULEVARD and PSYCHO, we are forced to confront the existence of such people, and perhaps even empathize with them to some degree. The closing sequence of SUNSET BOULEVARD is even more disheartening when one considers the public humiliation of Desmond, a once beloved movie star now reduced to murderess, is what finally gives a teary-eyed Max the opportunity to direct again.

The proper on-screen title

The horror tropes notwithstanding, SUNSET BOULEVARD is a film noir through and through, with perhaps the most sustained downbeat tone of any example of the genre. The presentation of the film's on-screen title (SUNSET BLVD.) comes in the form of curb identification, one step away from the gutter. Clearly what follows will not be a red carpet review of Hollywood. Compared with classic film noir blueprints like DOUBLE INDEMNITY and OUT OF THE PAST (1947), SUNSET BOULEVARD represents an evolutionary step for the genre, especially in regard to cynicism. Now most everyone puts his or her own interests ahead of someone else's, and not without penalty—there is a persistent sense of self-loathing that informs the narration by Gillis. He is the noir sap who only too late becomes aware of how flat on his face he has fallen, and why. In a morbid sense, everyone gets what he or she wanted in SUNSET BOULEVARD.

In his oft-cited essay “Notes on Film Noir” (Film Comment, Spring, 1972), Paul Schrader observes, "There seems to be an almost Freudian attachment to water. The empty noir streets are almost always glistening with fresh evening rain (even in Los Angeles), and the rainfall tends to increase in direct proportion to the drama." That last idea certainly empowers the SUNSET BOULEVARD narrative. It is invasive rainwater that forces Gillis from the room above the garage to the "husbands" room within the gloomy mansion. Rain again impacts the complicated romantic life of Gillis when Schaefer's fiancé Artie Green (Jack Webb) must extend his stay in Arizona when rainfall delays the production schedule of his current project. This circumstance allows the professional relationship between Gillis and Schaefer to become personal. In noir fashion, Gillis covertly develops his relationship with Schaefer exclusively at night, the most common timeline for noir activity. Of course the recurring motif of water begins and ends with death in the swimming pool.

Another familiar noir motif is the use of mirrors. The mirrors of SUNSET BOULEVARD reflect the truth that Desmond would prefer to suppress. This point is illustrated when Max notes a flaw in Desmond's appearance via her car's rear-view mirror. The mirror motif recurs throughout the film, interwoven with another noir staple:  idealized images of the past. A vast collection of framed pictures mark Desmond's days as a popular silent film actress and stand in direct contrast to the current image of Desmond that various mirrors reflect. And in the tradition of the expository camera placement established in DOUBLE INDEMNITY, the same dynamics inform SUNSET BOULEVARD, with Desmond framed in her home to suggest control over men, particularly in relation to the mansion's elaborate staircase, another common noir motif that so often leads to danger.

The woman dominates the man in this composition

As was the case with DOUBLE INDEMNITY, SUNSET BOULEVARD experienced some alterations after audience testing. At a test screening in Evanston, Illinois, the original opening sequence set in a morgue of conversing corpses elicited raucous audience laughter of the unintended kind. But apart from the original morgue concept that was replaced with the now iconic opening pool sequence, Wilder never deviated from the finished screenplay according to Nancy Olson. Swanson recalls a 12-week, chronological shooting schedule, during which cinematographer John F. Seitz established the Hollywood setting with location footage from Alto-Nido Apartments, Schwab's Pharmacy, the Getty Mansion, as well as Stage 18, the Dreier Building, and the very recognizable Bronson Gate at Paramount Pictures.

Though he definitely paid his dues, Billy Wilder was a success at the time of filming SUNSET BOULEVARD, so it is somewhat ironic he would provide such a scathing review of his industry. The director collaborated on the screenwriting of 13 films with Charles Brackett between 1936 until 1950. SUNSET BOULEVARD would be the final project they would work on together. THE LOST WEEKEND (1945) may be the writing team's most celebrated production, the winner of Academy Awards for Best Picture, Best Actor in a Leading Role, Best Director and Best Writing, Screenplay. SUNSET BOULEVARD racked up 11 Academy Award nominations, but won just three, including Best Writing, Story and Screenplay (Brackett, Wilder and D.M. Marshman Jr.), Best Art Direction-Set Decoration, Black-and-White (Hans Dreier, John Meehan, Sam Comer, Ray Moyer) and Best Music, Scoring of a Dramatic or Comedy Picture (Franz Waxman).

Interestingly, Swanson was not the first choice to portray Desmond. Mae West and Mary Pickford were approached, among others. George Cukor advised Wilder to pursue Swanson, a star of the silent era who had not appeared in a film for almost a decade. In probably the most striking case of intertextuality on display in SUNSET BOULEVARD, the silent film Desmond presents to a bored-looking Gillis is QUEEN KELLY (1929), a silent film directed by von Stroheim, with Swanson in the title role! After he was fired from the production, von Stroheim's career as a director never would recover. He essentially plays himself in SUNSET BOULEVARD, and even laments his unrealized promise as one of Hollywood's most talented filmmakers; he even mentions his real-life contemporaries D.W. Griffith and Cecil B. DeMille. DeMille actually directed some of the most notable silent films that featured Swanson, such as DON'T CHANGE YOUR HUSBAND (1919), MALE AND FEMALE (1919) and WHY CHANGE YOUR WIFE? (1920). She received a nomination for the very first Academy Award in the Best Actress category for her title role in SADIE THOMPSON (1928). William Holden claimed the role of Gillis after Montgomery Clift bowed out only weeks before filming was to commence. Wilder and Holden would re-team for STALAG 17 (1953), SABRINA (1954) and FEDORA (1978). Nancy Olson would be paired with Holden three more times:  the fine film noir UNION STATION (1950), and the war dramas FORCE OF ARMS (1951) and SUBMARINE COMMAND (1951).

Other films critical of Hollywood that soon followed in SUNSET BOULEVARD's wake included director Vincente Minnelli's THE BAD AND THE BEAUTIFUL (1952) and SINGIN' IN THE RAIN (1952), directed by Stanley Donen and Gene Kelly. The following decade, director Robert Aldrich's WHAT EVER HAPPENED TO BABY JANE? (1962) features an even more exaggeratedly horrific washed-up star than SUNSET BOULEVARD's Desmond, but the ancestry of Jane Hudson (Bette Davis) is obvious. The early 70s brought the darkly comic SUNSET BOULEVARD remake HEAT (1972) directed by Paul Morrissey, and produced by Andy Warhol. In the early 90s, SUNSET BOULEVARD opened as an Andrew Lloyd Webber musical, perhaps the ultimate tribute.

The finest home video presentation of SUNSET BOULEVARD to date is the dual-layered Blu-ray released in late 2012 by Paramount. The disc contains a1080P transfer, digitally restored frame-by-frame, presented in the original theatrical aspect ratio of 1.37:1. The feature film is unlikely to look significantly better in the near future, so this Blu-ray is well worth the upgrade for owners of the prior DVDs. The main audio track is English Mono Dolby TrueHD.

The Blu-ray's packaging promises "Over 2 1/2 Hours of Special Features," but the supplemental material is frustratingly redundant and mostly culled from past DVD editions, released in 2002 and 2008 respectively. The deleted musical number, "The Paramount Don't Want Me Blues" (2012, 1m 26s) is a new addition for the Blu-ray, everything else has been ported. The audio commentary track (2002) from Ed Sikov, author of ON SUNSET BOULEVARD: THE LIFE AND TIMES OF BILLY WILDER (1998), is one of the most informative of the supplements, even if he starts to run out of things to say during the film's third act. "The Noir Side of SUNSET BOULEVARD" (2008, 14m 19s) features Joseph Wambaugh, a former LAPD detective and author of THE ONION FIELD (1973), THE BLACK MARBLE (1978) and THE BLUE KNIGHT (1972), the latter was adapted as a made-for-TV movie that starred Holden. The other supplements:

•"SUNSET BOULEVARD:  The Beginning" (2008, 22m 47s).

•"SUNSET BOULEVARD:  A Look Back" (2002, 25m 52s).

•"SUNSET BOULEVARD Becomes a Classic" (2008, 14m 29s).

•"Two Sides of Ms. Swanson" (2008, 10m 37s).

•"Stories of SUNSET BLVD." (2008, 11m 22s).

•"Mad About the Boy:  A Portrait of William Holden" (2008, 11m 13s).

•"Recording SUNSET BLVD." (2008, 5m 51s).

•"The City of SUNSET BOULEVARD" (2008, 5m 36s).

•"Franz Waxman and the Music of SUNSET BOULEVARD" (2002, 14m 27s).

•"Morgue Prologue Script Pages" (2002) accompany the opening footage (without audio) that was scrapped.

•A Hollywood location map (2002) with information on the Paramount Pictures lot, the Gillis apartment building, Schwab's Pharmacy, the Getty Mansion, and Desmond's customized Isotta Fraschini Tipo 8A luxury vehicle.

•"Behind the Gates:  The Lot" (2008, 5m 5s).

•"Edith Head:  The Paramount Years" (2002, 13m 43s).

•"Paramount in the 50's" (2000, 9m 33s).

•Three photo galleries (2002), and a theatrical trailer (2002, 3m 16s).

Fan poster by Eric Knaus (5/24/2016)

DOUBLE INDEMNITY (1944) and (1973)

Paramount Pictures, 107m 39s

My favorite of all film noirs was based on the 1935 novella by James M. Cain, author of THE POSTMAN ALWAYS RINGS TWICE (1934) and MILDRED PIERCE (1941). The original Cain material was adapted for the screen by Billy Wilder and Raymond Chandler. Co-writer/director Wilder's first film noir undoubtedly was his most important and influential. That is high praise considering Wilder would go on to helm the transcendent noir classics SUNSET BOULEVARD (1950) and ACE IN THE HOLE (1951). Most of the pertinent themes and motifs associated with film noir can be identified in DOUBLE INDEMNITY, which effectively set the benchmark for every noir film that would follow it. One project observed the blueprint a little too closely:  the Sigmund Neufeld Productions release APOLOGY FOR MURDER (1945) was so similar to DOUBLE INDEMNITY that Paramount sued and won.

Cain's DOUBLE INDEMNITY amounts to a written confession from the main character. Set in California, 34-year-old insurance man Walter Huff makes a routine renewal stop at the residence of oil man H.S. Nirdlinger, only to find the Mr. of the house absent. Instead Huff meets his customer's wife Phyllis, an attractive early-thirtysomething who asks about purchasing accident insurance for her husband. Huff instinctively recognizes this broad is big trouble, but Mrs. Nirdlinger has a burning-hot body. Instead of running the other way, Huff teams with Phyllis to plot her husband's demise, all for a sizeable insurance check and a newly-available Phyllis.

It is made clear Huff entertained thoughts of how to rig the system to his advantage before meeting Phyllis, but it is her situation that provides the opportunity. Huff is determined to hit it big:

"Just pulling off some piker job, that don't interest me. But this, hitting it for the limit, that's what I go for. It's all I go for."

Huff's dream of "hitting it for the limit" is one of the major themes carried over to the film, and indeed a theme that would recur as the film noir genre proliferated. The defining noir films frequently concentrate on flawed individuals and the risks those characters take in the hope of bettering their economic prospects.

An opening image that sets the tone of a genre

The theatrical run of DOUBLE INDEMNITY ushered in the classic noir period (roughly 1944-1950). During that timeframe, a cavalcade of noir exercises appeared that emulated DOUBLE INDEMNITY's narration/flashback structure, including MURDER, MY SWEET (1944), MILDRED PIERCE (1945), THE KILLERS (1946), OUT OF THE PAST (1947), CRISS CROSS (1949) and Wilder's SUNSET BOULEVARD. Narration was a pragmatic convention considering the complexity of some of these plot structures. To set up the narration in DOUBLE INDEMNITY, the story begins at the end. Pacific All Risk Insurance Company's ace salesman Walter Neff (Fred MacMurray) narrates his story into a dictating machine for the benefit of both the film audience and Barton Keyes (Edward G. Robinson), the dogged chief claims investigator and Neff's close friend. Through Neff's "confession," he explains how an ostensibly respectable man could become hopelessly tangled up with the likes of Phyllis Dietrichson (Barbara Stanwyck beneath platinum blonde wig). Since the outcome of the story is clear from the outset, and Neff is not long for this world, his confession has a therapeutic function. As he addresses Keyes, he seeks redemption from his surrogate father, the man who never doubted Neff's character for a second. Keyes could not have been more wrong.

"I didn't get the money and--I didn't get the woman."

Released in May of 1944 but set in 1938 Los Angeles, DOUBLE INDEMNITY was the first American crime film to really concentrate on killers who are not gangster types. Instead, unremarkable personalities are presented, on the surface not much different from the casual filmgoers who attended DOUBLE INDEMNITY showings. The perfect illustration of this point occurs whenever Neff and Dietrichson meet at the local supermarket, surrounded by patrons who know nothing of the murderers perusing the canned goods aisle. The film's implications are far-reaching; even someone like MacMurray, who normally appeared in benign comedies and melodramas, could stray from the moral path and encounter the ruinous femme fatale portrayed by Stanwyck.

The premeditated murder of Mr. Dietrichson (Tom Powers) is conceived following a lovemaking session between Neff and Phyllis. The two lovers never will be so close again. After Mr. Dietrichson is eliminated, there is no suggestion made that Neff and Phyllis will live happily ever after. Instead the two are at each other's throats. Neff unravels the most, and for good reason. Even if Mrs. Dietrichson helped topple the first domino, the remaining ones that fall derive momentum from Neff's arrogance and lack of foresight. In that sense, the film is a cautionary tale about how self-destructive a man can become in pursuit of the wrong woman and ill-gotten money. Neff is done in by his own greed and lust. As the narrative plays out, the compressive force of a moral vice slowly tightens, and both Neff and Dietrichson eventually succumb to the pressure. The palpable sense of doom is best described by Neff when he says, "I couldn't hear my own footsteps. It was the walk of a dead man."

The worst type of backseat driver

After the crime:  a dark romance

Falling apart at the seams

The novella in particular is Huff's tragedy, written in the first person. The film follows the source material fairly closely until the final four chapters, which play out quite differently compared to the film's denouement. Other departures from the original story are slight, but interesting. In the novella, Walter Huff seems less educated than his film counterpart--Huff's grammar is atrocious--but he is more experienced and streetwise. When Phyllis Nirdlinger broaches the subject of accident insurance, Huff reacts as follows:

"But all of a sudden she looked at me, and I felt a chill creep straight up my back and into the roots of my hair."

The film's smooth-talking Walter Neff speaks a lot more eloquently than the book's Huff, but is a little less practiced in insurance sales (11 years experience versus 15). It is not until Neff visits the Dietrichson home for the second time that he realizes the implication of a wife inquiring about accident insurance for her husband. Though a more polished man, Neff is nonetheless more susceptible to Phyllis than the novella's Huff.

The Barton Keyes character is more critical to the film than the original Cain story. As the film's most disciplined insurance professional, chief claims adjuster Keyes is suspicious of Phyllis from the moment he sees her, but never does he get the idea that her partner in crime could be his colleague and close friend Neff. Not even the 26-year man Keyes can explain the contagion of events correctly that revolve around the film's scheming femme fatale. Keyes serves as the film's doggedly determined private eye, though he fails to solve the case. Instead he must face the frustrating conclusion that he does not understand human nature quite as well as he thought. Ironically, Keyes never trusted anyone but Neff. The film's real tragedy is the shattered father/son-type bond between Keyes and Neff. Robinson's portrayal of Keyes is a remarkable achievement in casting that only gets better as time passes. There is nothing quite like seeing Robinson’s character deftly school company prez Edward S. Norton, Jr. (Richard Gaines) regarding the mountain of statistics behind suicides.

With its unsettling implications about female sexuality, DOUBLE INDEMNITY would influence many a misogynistic noir production. That is not to suggest that prior entries in the noir category did not feature decadent, acquisitive females, but few are "rotten enough" to measure up to Phyllis and her long history of wanton wickedness. Especially upon repeat viewings, Stanwyck's portrayal of Phyllis is absolutely chilling. The iciness of her eyes could be mistaken for vacuous by the uninitiated, but notice the emphasis on Phyllis while her husband is murdered; her expression exudes complete heartlessness. Her only display of vulnerability comes at the film's conclusion, when she seems genuinely surprised she cannot fire a second shot to finish Neff. But even this moment could be explained as self-centered; Phyllis seemed the more aware of the two that if one goes down the drain, so does the other. Whatever her true feelings about Neff may be, Phyllis betrays everyone sooner or later, as when Neff learns of her clandestine meetings with Nino Zachetti (Byron Barr). Based on the concatenation of circumstances that unite Neff and Phyllis, it appears fate must have brought them to each other. The phrase "straight down the line" is repeated throughout the film, mostly by Phyllis; there is no going back to however things were prior to the meeting of Neff and Phyllis. They truly deserve each other:  Phyllis brings out the dark flaw in Neff he had kept bottled up before falling for her, and Neff provides the money-making component Phyllis requires to dispose of her unwanted mate. The protracted manner of death that befalls first Mr. Dietrichson and (presumably) Neff only confirms the extent of the evil embodied by Phyllis. Mr. Dietrichson is offed in his own car, but is transported to another location to "die." Similarly, Neff is shot at the Dietrichson home, but travels back to the office where it is inferred he will expire.

Top-flight Paramount cinematographer John F. Seitz contributed mightily to the film noir edifice through his work on THIS GUN FOR HIRE (1942), NIGHT HAS A THOUSAND EYES (1948), SUNSET BOULEVARD, APPOINTMENT WITH DANGER (1951) and DETECTIVE STORY (1951). Most of DOUBLE INDEMNITY's pivotal sequences transpire in dark settings typical of the noir style, either nighttime exteriors or destabilizing interiors rife with shadows. This point is hammered home from the beginning, with Neff's late-night return to the office to tell his story. The ensuing semiotics insistently communicate damage or danger, even in seemingly innocuous environments. The immaculate veneer of suburban tranquility, where area children play stickball in the street, contrasts with the dominant venetian blinds inside the Dietrichson home that suggest a prison-like interior of both physical and psychological confinement. When Neff first meets Phyllis, she is alluringly dressed in only a towel, yet unattainable placement-wise. She occupies a superior position atop the stairway, while Neff stands below. Such positioning would become a much-imitated noir trope.

DOUBLE INDEMNITY was nominated for seven Academy Awards, including Best Picture. Unfortunately for Wilder and crew, Paramount backed the Bing Crosby vehicle GOING MY WAY (1944) as the studio's premier offering of that year. It worked--GOING MY WAY won Best Picture and six additional Academy Awards. Wilder would be honored for the following year's THE LOST WEEKEND (1945), a fine film in its own right, but a lesser achievement than DOUBLE INDEMNITY. The most influential of film noirs was inducted into the National Film Registry for preservation in 1992.

The 70th Anniversary Limited Edition Blu-ray version available from Universal Studios Home Entertainment was digitally remastered and restored from high resolution 35mm original film elements, framed at 1.35:1. The excellent results are apparent in the screen captures within this review. The 1080P dual-layered disc includes a 2.0 mono DTS-HD Master Audio track as the primary audio option. Supplements ported over from the dual-disc DVD released by Universal in 2006 include two audio commentary tracks, the first by Richard Schickel, who explains the development of film noir as a Hollywood genre and DOUBLE INDEMNITY's place in it as the first "true" noir film. Schickel notes the film's various detours from the source material, many penned by Chandler, who didn't particularly care for the work of Cain. The second commentary track combines film historian Nick Redman and screenwriter Lem Dobbs (KAFKA [1991], THE LIMEY [1999]). Dobbs met Wilder in 1971 and believes the "manic energy" Robinson brings to DOUBLE INDEMNITY is the closest emulation of Wilder to be found in one of the director's films. Unlike the anonymous locales of modern films, Dobbs points out, the LA of DOUBLE INDEMNITY is peppered with specific locations that add a sense of verisimilitude to the production. The tribute featurette "Shadows of Suspense" (2006, 37m 56s) boasts an impressive array of noir authorities, including Eddie Muller, Film Noir Foundation founder and president, as well as noted authors Drew Casper, Phil Cousineau, Paul Duncan, James Ellroy, Kim Newman, Richard Schickel, Alain Silver, Vivian Sobchack, James Ursini, and Elizabeth Ward. Filmmakers called upon include Caleb Deschanel, William Friedkin, Paul Kerr and Owen Roizman. The feature presentation is introduced by Robert Osborne (2m 30s), and there is a tattered theatrical trailer (2m 16s).

Another extra that made the trip from DVD to Blu-ray is the made-for-TV DOUBLE INDEMNITY (Universal Studios, 73m 53s) that aired in 1973. A subtle dialogue update provides a hint of what is wrong with this perfunctory remake, long before one notices the fades strategically timed for commercial interruptions. While recording his confession, Walter Neff (Richard Crenna) declares "...I don't want the woman" versus the original version's "...I didn't get the woman." It is not quite the same thing! Even after shooting her, note that MacMurray's Neff cannot resist one last glance at that anklet that so captured his attention—he still desires her. The remake’s change in dialogue dilutes a theme central to the noir cycle:  the futility of the protagonist's obsession with an unattainable woman. But then, this is a color film almost completely devoid of the noir visual style that graced the 1944 film. Despite heavy dependence on the original screenplay, adapted for the small screen by Steven Bochco, the narrative and settings seem rather ordinary without the noir look to compliment the action. Genre filmmaking cannot be half-hearted any more than a woman can be a little bit pregnant.

Phyllis Dietrichson (Samantha Eggar) and Walter Neff (Richard Crenna)

Incredulity of character is another serious issue that plagues the telefilm. Crenna is among the most irritatingly theatrical of all movie actors; I still just cringe when he appears on the scene in the otherwise excellent FIRST BLOOD (1982). In his late 40s at the time of filming, Crenna inspires doubt when he announces his Walter Neff is 36. As portrayed by Lee J. Cobb, Barton Keyes seems in more immediate need of an appointment with a gastrointestinal specialist than Robinson's character. Even more troubling, the father/son dynamic between Keyes and Neff that enhanced the original version is completely lost in the remake. Samantha Eggar as Phyllis Dietrichson is another disappointment. I always have loved Eggar, the stunning beauty of THE COLLECTOR (1965) and the terrifying matriarch of THE BROOD (1979). But she looks positively emaciated here, and fails to create the irresistible sex appeal necessary for the Phyllis character to be convincing. Writer/director Lawrence Kasdan's BODY HEAT (1981) was the far more aesthetically pleasing color interpretation of James M. Cain (uncredited), with Richard Crenna this time in the role of the doomed husband.

Unique to this very collectible Blu-ray edition are UltraViolet & iTunes renditions of the feature 1944 film, along with a little packet that contains a theatrical poster reproduction, three lobby card reproductions, and a still of the film's alternate ending that condemned Neff to the gas chamber.

Google search:  6301 Quebec Dr., Los Angeles, CA 90068

OUT OF THE PAST (1947)

RKO Radio Pictures, 96m 45s

After the release of such formative genre staples as THE MALTESE FALCON (1941), THIS GUN FOR HIRE (1942), DOUBLE INDEMNITY (1944), MURDER, MY SWEET (1944) and THE POSTMAN ALWAYS RINGS TWICE (1946), to name several, the major ingredients of the film noir formula were pretty standard:  a protagonist with a checkered past, a complex storyline, a disjointed narrative structure, up-tempo dialog, nighttime settings, chiaroscuro lighting, low camera angles and shadows that combine to suggest entrapment, a man who signs his own death warrant by falling for the wrong woman, and above all else, an unshakable sense of fate. OUT OF THE PAST delivers a potent mixture of those familiar elements, seamlessly directed by Jacques Tourneur. Justly inducted into the National Film Registry in 1991 for preservation in the Library of Congress, OUT OF THE PAST is considered by many to be one of the most accomplished examples of the film noir form, and I have to agree.

Ann Miller (Virginia Huston) and Jeff Bailey (Robert Mitchum)

The narrative gets started on a fatalistic note as Joe Stefanos (Paul Valentine) discovers the whereabouts of an old associate through chance. The man in hiding is Jeff Bailey (Robert Mitchum), who Stefanos knows has assumed a new identity. Bailey's real last name is Markham (mark him?). Via flashback it is revealed Bailey was commissioned by Stefanos's boss Whit Sterling (Kirk Douglas) to find Kathie Moffat (Jane Greer), who according to Sterling ran off with $40,000 of his money after shooting him. Now Sterling has a new assignment in mind for Bailey, who puts up no resistance after being summoned, like a wiseguy who realizes his time to get whacked has arrived. So why would Bailey willingly march to his own doom? All of the evidence points to his past association with Moffat, who had cast her spell over Bailey without having to expend much energy. One senses Bailey was finished the moment he located Moffat. The only important question left to be answered is when.

Jeff Bailey (Robert Mitchum) and Kathie Moffat (Jane Greer)

The observation that Moffat only emerges at night should be a hint and a half for a private eye, but the delicate-looking Greer, only 22 at the time of filming, does not portray the type of feminine evil that appears inherently dangerous at first glance. With her angelic, girlish good looks, especially when dressed in white, she avoids the appearance of impropriety with ease. The same never could be said about the tempting bedroom eyes of noir vixens like Marie Windsor, Ava Gardner or Linda Darnell. No wonder Bailey finds Moffat so difficult to resist, even when he should know better. She is not completely unsympathetic—she is a victim of Sterling's sometimes violent power over her—but her base instincts are completely self-centered. Bailey's other romantic interest Ann Miller (Virginia Huston) provides the opposite female archetype to Moffat, although Miller seems too good to be true, even a little boring. Exciting and cerebral, Moffat is the female most worthy of male attention, but an extreme danger factor is part of the package.

"And then I saw her, coming out of the sun..."

Moffat may be the most complicated character, but other prominent characters are also textured and more complex than the viewer is led to believe. In an early starring role, Mitchum is ideally cast as Bailey. This gumshoe is a sharp guy and a quick thinker, but he is unable to rescue himself from a hopeless obsession for the temptress Moffat. Despite his imposing physique, Mitchum is able to convey a degree of vulnerability. He is the most passive of tough guys, a little too naturally relaxed, like a journeyman prizefighter with a losing record. He never looks like he got quite enough rest the night before.

"Do you always go around leaving your fingerprints on a girl's shoulder?"

In only his second film, the first being THE STRANGE LOVE OF MARTHA IVERS (1946), Douglas is sensational as the racketeer and tax evader Sterling, one of the many reprehensible types Douglas would become noted for playing. It is not difficult to envision Moffat letting a pistol explode in Sterling's direction. Like Bailey, Sterling is a flawed personality. "...I fire people, but nobody quits me..." he declares with smug confidence. That approach might work alright with his male cohorts, but it is the wrong philosophy when it comes to dealing with the resourceful female Moffat. Both men would have been better off keeping their distance from her, but what man could resist? Moffat must have made fools of many who came before them.

There is an infectious, raw beauty to the depth of the compositions that grace OUT OF THE PAST. Almost every frame conveys balance and cinematic meaning. Yet with such obvious attention to detail and artistry, nothing seems self-conscious—that is a tough trick to get right. The resonant themes and motifs never seem telegraphed. Shifts in tone are subtle. The stylized imagery seems natural, with a lyrical grace that complements the dialog and narration, which seems determined to register the damnation of Bailey only gradually, despite the non-negotiable nature of his downfall. As Bailey presciently points out, "...I'm gonna die last." A criminal past cannot be undone, crime cannot go unpunished, second chances are fleeting. The final scene involves a gesture that is both truthful and deceptive, a fitting tribute to the love affair between Bailey and Moffat.

Jeff Bailey (Robert Mitchum) takes his place within textbook noir compositions

OUT OF THE PAST director Jacques Tourneur is noted for directing the first three Val Lewton-produced RKO horror titles:  CAT PEOPLE (1942), I WALKED WITH A ZOMBIE (1943) and THE LEOPARD MAN (1943). All of these films have a film noir sensibility in terms of visuals and themes. Later Tourneur would go on to helm NIGHTFALL (1957), which like OUT OF THE PAST serves as a reminder that noir concerns are not unique to urban environments. OUT OF THE PAST is particularly insistent that film noir has invaded every square inch of North American soil, from small town gas stations in Bridgeport, California to San Francisco, from the High Sierra Mountains to the Acapulco coast. The location coverage blends surprisingly well with soundstage footage. Prior to handling the cinematography for OUT OF THE PAST, the very capable Nicholas Musuraca had distinguished himself with STRANGER ON THE THIRD FLOOR (1940), sometimes considered to be the very first film noir, Tourneur's CAT PEOPLE, and THE LOCKET (1946).

Daniel Mainwaring adapted his novel BUILD MY GALLOWS HIGH as Geoffrey Homes, the pseudonym he often used. Even today, his writing is quite quotable, and the snappy dialog does not sound as stilted as some noirs do. OUT OF THE PAST originally was released in England as BUILD MY GALLOWS HIGH. It was remade as AGAINST ALL ODDS in 1984, with Greer among the cast. Greer and Mitchum would star together again in Don Siegel's THE BIG STEAL (1949), co-written by Mainwaring. In 1987, Mitchum hosted Saturday Night Live and was featured with Greer in a spoof of OUT OF THE PAST.

Framed at the original theatrical aspect ratio of 1.37:1, the Blu-ray version of OUT OF THE PAST now available through the Warner Archive is among the site's premier offerings. Skin tones and contrast show noticeable improvement compared to Warner's 1.33:1 DVD version released in 2004. The dual-layered Blu-ray maintains the audio commentary track by film scholar James Ursini that was included on the DVD.

THE GLASS KEY (1942)

Paramount Pictures, 85m 19s

A memorably physical human connection accents the opening sequence of THE GLASS KEY:  after political boss and "biggest crook in the state" Paul Madvig (Brian Donlevy, top-billed) makes an unflattering comment about her brother, feisty Janet Henry (Veronica Lake) delivers a heavy slap to Madvig's stunned countenance. Lovestruck, he concludes he has met his future wife, and pledges support for the Reform Party campaign of Janet's father Ralph Henry (Moroni Olsen), who is running for governor. Some conflict is introduced in the form of Janet's deadbeat brother Taylor (Richard Denning), a hopeless drinker and chronic gambler indebted to area gangster Nick Varna (Joseph Calleia). Taylor is in a relationship with Madvig's 18-year-old sister Opal (Bonita Granville), and naturally Madvig does not approve. So when Taylor is found face-down in the street, Madvig becomes the logical suspect. That leaves it to Madvig's most trusted associate Ed Beaumont (Alan Ladd) to determine what happened to Taylor.

Janet Henry (Veronica Lake) ignites male passion in THE GLASS KEY

Based on the hard-boiled Dashiell Hammett novel, this screen adaptation by Jonathan Latimer (NOCTURNE [1946], THE BIG CLOCK [1948]) radiates a lot of human indifference to brutality and death. Ladd creates an exceptional noir protagonist, just as he had in the same year's THIS GUN FOR HIRE. Director Stuart Heisler (STORM WARNING [1951], I DIED A THOUSAND TIMES [1955]) strives to make the viewer feel the pain when Beaumont is held captive and savagely roughed up; the raw sequence culminates with a further test of Beaumont's endurance when he survives a fall from dangerous heights after a daring escape through a last-chance window.

Ed Beaumont (Alan Ladd) is not to be messed with

The theme of humans connecting physically boils over when archetypal noir sadist Jeff (William Bendix) prepares to administer another thorough beating of Beaumont, but not without the two indulging in a friendly round of drinks first. When it comes to homoerotic noir tension, this is about as overt as it gets, with word choices such as "baby" and "sweetheart" in active use. Like so many American films (not just noirs), the crucial relationships are between men in THE GLASS KEY. At one point Madvig refers to Beaumont as his "partner" and makes a strong suggestion that the relationship is closer than people would guess. Beaumont is the most composed character of the film, even when he is getting the beating of his life from the psychosexual Jeff. Beaumont's notion of a moral compass is THE GLASS KEY's most defining component. It is probably safe to say his is not much like the moral code of the average person—as when he uses a betrayed man's suicide to his advantage—but Beaumont's intense loyalty to Madvig is what bonds the viewer to Beaumont as the character most worthy of our trust.

Jeff (William Bendix) leads a perverse courtship of Beaumont (Alan Ladd)

The deeply embedded sense of eminent corruption that characterizes this important early film noir recalls traditions established in the gangster films of the prior decade. Seeking the (glass) key to an extended stay at the governor's mansion, Ralph Henry teams with Madvig, a slightly-cultured, old-school thug from "the old 8th ward" who still talks unmistakably like a tough guy. In a similar dynamic, a murder becomes a handy political weapon manipulated by the gangster Varna. District Attorney Farr (Donald MacBride) is a spineless lush, easily pushed around by Beaumont. The interconnectedness of politics, law, the press, and the criminal underworld is best exemplified by Varna's grip on the mortgage of The Observer, the newspaper run by Clyde Matthews (Arthur Loft).

Within this corrupt system roam alluring but conniving women who just cannot be trusted. This theme would become the noir normal very early in the cycle that proliferated from 1940-1959. Beaumont struggles mightily with his feelings for Janet, who he suspects is trying her best to send his (boy?)friend Madvig to the chair. Tellingly, Beaumont is willing to turn in Janet for a crime even though he knows she is innocent. Then there is Eloise (Margaret Hayes), the shameless couch kitten of puppet newspaperman Matthews. As soon as she learns her husband is broke, the bitch immediately gravitates to Beaumont, right in front of her suddenly discarded husband!

Madvig (Brian Donlevy) and Beaumont (Alan Ladd) discuss a dead body

I’ve looked better

Again the man in the mirror is Beaumont (Alan Ladd)

Dashiell Hammett's original fiction first appeared in the pulp magazine BLACK MASK in 1930 as a four-part serial ("The Glass Key," "The Cyclone Shot," "Dagger Point," and "The Shattered Key") before being published as a novel in 1931. Paramount released the first film version in 1935, with George Raft featured as Ed Beaumont and Frank Tuttle (THIS GUN FOR HIRE [1942]) directing.

Presented without comment

THE GLASS KEY is available as part of the Film Noir 10-Movie Spotlight Collection 6-disc DVD set available from Universal Studios Home Entertainment.