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.

HELL'S HALF ACRE (1954)

Republic Pictures, 91m 5s

Donna Williams (Evelyn Keyes) looks for the husband she lost in HELL'S HALF ACRE

Film noir boundaries extend beyond the continental US to Hawaii in HELL'S HALF ACRE, a noir entry seldom referenced but more than worthy of review. The film's atypical setting does nothing to defy the conventions of the genre, but rather confirms the adaptability of the sturdy noir narrative. Honolulu might be a tourist trap by day, but nocturnal activity plays out in night clubs, dance halls, flop houses and dark alleys. It’s a complicated urban network best approached with extreme caution.

Not exactly the most conventional of film noir title treatments

In terms of the main protagonist's inescapable connection with poor choices made in the past, HELL'S HALF ACRE is among the best examples of noir existentialism. The story commences on a happy note, with Chet Chester (Wendell Corey) enjoying a night at his club with ladyfriend Sally Lee (Nancy Gates). The tone quickly changes, though, when Chester's shady background resurfaces in the form of his erstwhile syndicate associate Novak (Robert Costa), who plans to blackmail Chester. Lee puts an abrupt halt to the scheme with a well-placed bullet to Novak's forehead. Chester pragmatically thinks it best he takes the rap, so he sends Lee on an errand to hire an appropriate attorney for his defense. But the third and most violent member of the disbanded syndicate Roger Kong (Philip Ahn) suspects Lee is making off with syndicate money, so he roughs her up a little too much. Over in the states, Donna Williams (Evelyn Keyes) has a hunch her husband Randy, presumed killed in Pearl Harbor, is really alive in the form of Chester. She travels to Honolulu to learn the truth, with Lida O'Reilly (Elsa Lanchester) available as her tour guide. Williams proves to be both right and wrong about her husband.

Out of the past:  a photo from 1941

Wendell Corey (I WALK ALONE [1947], SORRY, WRONG NUMBER [1948]) leaves a strong impression as Chester, a somber man bound to his criminal past, which, like his facial scar, stubbornly remains in the present. Chester seems to have concluded long ago there would be no going back to being Randy. He is a deserter turned racketeer, not a hero, like his 11-year-old son has been brought up to believe. Chester recognizes the futility in even considering going backwards when he explains to the boy's mother, "His father's dead. He died the day Chet Chester started to live..." This theme of the walking dead reaches its apex when Chester calmly notifies authorities of his impending murder.

Chet Chester (Wendell Corey) and Donna Williams (Evelyn Keyes)

With location footage from Waikiki Beach to the A'ala district, the always interesting backdrop alternates between picturesque and austere. The peripheral characters who inhabit the more dismal locales are a seedy lot indeed. In a disquieting moment of grotesque sexuality, sweaty and unkempt Tubby Otis (Jesse White) surely would have raped Williams (inexplicably nude under a bed sheet!) were it not for the timely intervention of Chester. Then there is the presence of practiced noir dame Marie Windsor, who always adds an element of raw sex with her statuesque physicality and tempting bedroom eyes. Law enforcement operates on a level commensurate with the local hoodlums; police chief Dan (Keye Luke) is just fine with using people as bait, like underworld information guy Ippy (Leonard Strong) and even Williams. An arch criminal's death by police gunfire in front of a sign that reads "Clean Up Hell's Half Acre" no doubt will frustrate liberal viewers.

HELL'S HALF ACRE reunites the creative force behind the prior year's excellent noir film CITY THAT NEVER SLEEPS (1953):  director and associate producer John H. Auer, screenwriter Steve Fisher (I WAKE UP SCREAMING [1941]), and cinematographer John L. Russell (PSYCHO [1960]).

Framed at the original theatrical aspect ratio of 1.37:1, the Blu-ray version available from Olive Films is true to their usual standards (great transfer, no extras).

BODY AND SOUL (1947)

United Artists, 106m 9s

Director Robert Rossen's pessimistic critique of the boxing world influenced almost every boxing film that came after it, and reinforced the dominant themes of the noir films that populated the late 1940s. The primarily urban locales of most film noirs are replete with cheap hotels, smoke-infested night clubs, and rainy streets, so the violence and corruption of the boxing venue furnishes an appropriate setting. The boxing ring of BODY AND SOUL is both actual and allegorical, a battleground that links a brutal profession to an intense social struggle.

Charley Davis (John Garfield) is the scarred protagonist of BODY AND SOUL

The prime examples of film noir often feature a key moment of existential recognition, during which the protagonist realizes he has gotten himself into a real fix, and there is no easy way out. That moment comes early in BODY AND SOUL, when 35-year-old Jewish prizefighter Charley Davis (John Garfield) laments, "All gone down the drain, everything down the drain..." He's been instructed to lose his next title defense, either by decision or quicker if he can live with that. In respect to the lead protagonist's existential awareness, the majority of the storyline plays out in flashback form, tracing the career trajectory of Davis from promising past to problematic present.

Having grown up in a tough ethnic community, the young Davis thinks prizefighting earnings will help his family, but boxing starts to destroy the Davis household even before his first pro fight. Davis's father (Art Smith) is killed almost immediately after providing funding for his son's boxing gear. The somber family matriarch Anna Davis (Anne Revere, FALLEN ANGEL [1945]) persistently suggests schooling as the means for her son to get ahead. She blames the NYC milieu for interfering with her son's potential, "...we live in a jungle, so he can only be a wild animal." Tellingly, Davis becomes committed to professional fighting after seeing his mother being subjected to humiliating questions while seeking financial assistance. So Davis fights for the downtrodden, guided by the assumption that increased cash flow will solve all problems of the have-nots. Davis builds a solid reputation as an up-and-coming pugilist working with neighborhood pal Shorty Polaski (Joseph Pevney, THE STREET WITH NO NAME [1948], THIEVES' HIGHWAY [1949]) and local promoter Quinn (William Conrad, DIAL 1119 [1950], THE RACKET [1951]).

Charley Davis (John Garfield) and Peg Born (Lilli Palmer)

The prospect finds himself trapped in moral quicksand when he makes an agreement with eminently corrupt, big-time promoter Roberts (Lloyd Gough [AKA Goff], TENSION [1949], SUNSET BOULEVARD [1950]). Roberts embodies the darkest corner of the boxing ring, and, by inference, a socialist's worst fears about capitalism. To Roberts, a fighter like Davis represents a revenue stream, nothing more. Roberts is accustomed to getting full cooperation from everyone he works with, particularly when the outcome of his promotion is predetermined. Throwing a fight is just good business as far as the numbers-obsessed Roberts is concerned ("Everything is addition or subtraction."). He understands all businesses have a life and death, and he feels the same way about people, who he callously discards after the end of their useful lives. "Everybody dies" is his catch phrase. On another level, Roberts appears to be one of classic Hollywood's "evil" gay characters. Surely a man of his social status would have a beautiful woman on his arm, unless he had no interest. Then there is the omnipresence of his mysterious silent associate (Peter Virgo, THE NARROW MARGIN [1952]).

A portrait reminds Charley Davis (John Garfield) of a happier past

Davis puts his career ahead of his fiancée and talented artist Peg Born (Lilli Palmer, CLOAK AND DAGGER [1946]), and eventually his spending leads to financial instability that conflicts with his instincts as a professional athlete. He alienates Peg in favor of Alice (Hazel Brooks in her first credited role), a greedy young beauty whose only interest in Davis involves money, and lots of it. Heavily indebted to Roberts, Davis can get back in the black by betting on himself to lose his title to snarky contender Jackie Marlowe (Artie Dorrell, uncredited). But for the sake of financial gain, Davis also must turn his back on the "whole neighborhood" betting on him to win the toughest defense of his championship. The final fight does not disappoint. Cinematographer James Wong Howe, a former pro boxer himself, inventively captured some of the fight footage with a handheld camera while wearing roller skates. Davis makes the ultimate existential statement when he mocks Roberts at the film's conclusion, and the position of the filmmakers regarding capitalistic greed is confirmed.

Alice (Hazel Brooks) maintains her appearance

After his contract with Warner Brothers ended, in 1946 Garfield co-founded the independent production company Enterprise Productions (AKA The Enterprise Studios) along with producers David L. Loew and Charles Einfeld. BODY AND SOUL was the company's third film. The original boxing film concept conceived by Garfield was a biopic based on the life of boxer Barney Ross (birth name Dov-Ber Rasofsky), a world champion of three weight classes who compiled a record of 74 wins, 4 defeats, and 3 draws. The intent was to cover the area of Ross's life that included drug addiction, a topic that did not fit well into Production Code parameters. Instead, screenwriter Abraham Polonsky devised a fictional boxing narrative that echoes some of the true Ross story.

A box office success, BODY AND SOUL is taut and technically solid as directed by Rossen (JOHNNY O'CLOCK [1947], THE HUSTLER [1961]). Robert Aldrich (KISS ME DEADLY [1955]), THE BIG KNIFE [1955]) served as assistant director. The viewer is likely to recall sequences long after some of the plot points become hazy, always the sign of a great noir film. One of the most sympathetic of all noir characters is Ben Chaplin (real-life prizefighter Canada Lee), a former champion reduced to waterboy status for his successor. Physically Chaplin is a ticking time bomb with a blood clot in his brain. His death sequence, in which he lapses into a bizarre reenactment of his last fight, is among the saddest of noir downfalls.

In 1948 Francis D. Lyon and Robert Parrish won an Academy Award for "Best Film Editing," Garfield and Polonsky both received nominations for their work. Unfortunately, many of the folks involved with this liberal film, including Garfield, Rossen, Polonsky, Revere, Gough, and Lee, would be blacklisted due to the overzealous investigations of the House Un-American Activities Committee. Garfield was only 49 at the time of his death in 1952.

The single-layered, Region "A" Blu-ray disc currently available from Olive Films offers the best presentation of BODY AND SOUL to date. The seminal boxing film was the basis for remakes in 1981 and 1998.