D.O.A. (1950)

Cardinal Pictures, 83m 29s

Some film noir characters are largely at fault for their own misfortune. That is not the case in D.O.A. What an unnerving situation! A man who has done nothing wrong learns he has only days or perhaps hours to live. "Why me?" would be the obvious question for any person to ask under such grim conditions. The noir city responds, "Why not you?"

"I was."

The existential plot of D.O.A. has its basis in the German comedy Der Mann, der seinen Mörder sucht (1931, AKA LOOKING FOR HIS MURDERER) directed by Robert Siodmak, but the film under review strikes a more serious tone. Frank Bigelow (Edmond O'Brien) is self-employed as an accountant in Banning, California, about 30 miles west of Palm Springs. His secretary/significant-other Paula Gibson (Pamela Britton) has matrimony on her mind, but Frank lets her know he is about to leave for San Francisco for a week. Paula is pissed, and not without good reason. It is party time in San Fran from the moment of Frank's arrival. The St. Francis Hotel is crawling with head-turning women—Frank’s sexual interest is registered via an intrusive slide whistle audio clip. Despite the oft-criticized whistle gimmick, even today D.O.A. remains an efficient thriller, complete with the patented flashback structure for which the noir film is noted.

Other noir tropes find compulsory treatment throughout a sequence at a waterfront night club called The Fisherman. This urban scene is so alien to Frank he does not always understand the hip discourse. Black musicians play jazz music energetically before a white audience that looks free of inhibitions. The intensity of the music is rivaled only by the sexually-charged cellar jazz scene in PHANTOM LADY (1944). Most of the patrons at The Fisherman seem completely entranced by the up-tempo music; one patron in particular appears to be in a spaced-out state of mind. Temptresses surround Frank at the packed club, specifically Sue (Cay Forester), the wife of a salesman he met at the hotel, and a hot-looking blonde (Virginia Lee) who shows up at the club alone nightly. Both women appear more than willing to spend some one-on-one time with Frank later that evening. The chaotic sequence at The Fisherman contrasts with the earlier scene at an uneventful bar in Banning where Frank and Paula grab food and drinks after work. At this establishment, the only other customer is a uniformed police officer, who might have been a more helpful presence at The Fisherman, where a killer serves iridium poison for which no antidote exists.

Luminous toxin

D.O.A. provides an unmitigated indictment of the American urban landscape, where dark clouds may approach from any direction. Urban complexity is underscored by a sequence in an abandoned refinery that closely resembles the labyrinthine industrial settings found in other noirs such as THIS GUN FOR HIRE (1942), APPOINTMENT WITH DANGER (1951) and CITY THAT NEVER SLEEPS (1953). But in the hopeless case of 33-year-old Frank Bigelow, urban decadence and omnipresent femme fatales are mere distractions to the matter at hand. The film's chilling message about the benign indifference of death is best expressed by Frank, who recognizes the absurdity of a simple routine that marked him for death:

"...all I did was notarize one little paper, one little paper out of hundreds."

Plentiful location footage captured in San Francisco and Los Angeles by Ernest Laszlo serves to authenticate the story conceived by Russell Rouse and Clarence Greene, the writing team who would bring us the innovative "silent noir" THE THIEF (1952) and the exposé noir NEW YORK CONFIDENTIAL (1955). Their D.O.A. screenplay is intricate and well written, if not the easiest to follow, especially after a second opinion convinces Frank he is indeed a goner. At this juncture, he instinctually undergoes a dramatic personality change and morphs into a no-nonsense, hard-boiled PI on the trail of the person who fed him the luminous poison. Majak (Luther Adler) understands Frank is playing for keeps, "He's not afraid...You can tell from a man's eyes when he is afraid. Look at his eyes." In one of the film's many ironies, our protagonist is flanked by LIFE magazine on one side of a newsstand, and a message that reads "Brighten your morning..." on the other. In another irony, a pharmacist intervenes on Frank's behalf during a shootout. And when time is up for Frank, instead of being surrounded by friends and family, his only company is the indifferent homicide division at a police station!

LIFE

Director Rudolph Maté maintains a torrid pace to Frank's investigation, an absolute necessity given the protagonist's abbreviated life expectancy. The experienced cinematographer turned director Maté also helmed THE DARK PAST (1948) and UNION STATION (1950), both very good film noirs. Editor Arthur H. Nadel deserves mention, especially for his superb handling of the jazz sequence. He also edited other effective film noirs of D.O.A.'s era, including IMPACT (1949), CHICAGO CALLING (1951) and WITHOUT WARNING! (1952).

Come on, talk

Edmond O'Brien, excellent here as Frank, left us a vast assortment of quality work in the film noir field, including THE KILLERS (1946), THE WEB (1947), A DOUBLE LIFE (1947), WHITE HEAT (1949), BACKFIRE (1950), 711 OCEAN DRIVE (1950) and THE HITCH-HIKER (1953). The other D.O.A. players combine to enrich the noir atmosphere of corruption and uncertainty. Majak embodies foreign evil that sometimes invades film noir, i.e. THE BIG SLEEP (1946), PANIC IN THE STREETS (1950), PICKUP ON SOUTH STREET (1953). Chester (the debut of Neville Brand) is an example of the noir psycho inspired by Richard Widmark's Tommy Udo character from KISS OF DEATH (1947). Majak says of Chester, "He's an unfortunate boy. He's psychopathic. He's unhappy unless he gives pain. He likes to see blood." D.O.A. also features Beverly Garland, here credited as Beverly Campbell, in her debut. Garland later appeared in director Jack Arnold's THE GLASS WEB (1953), a noir film that was sometimes shown in 3D at the time of its original theatrical run.

The noir psycho Chester (Neville Brand)

O'Brien recreated his role for a 60-minute radio adaptation of the film, broadcast June 21st, 1951. D.O.A. was remade twice for the screen, first as COLOR ME DEAD (1969) and once again as D.O.A. (1988). In 2011, D.O.A. A NOIR MUSICAL played to sold-out audiences for five weeks. The production received an ATAC Globe Award in 2012 for "Best Adapted Script."

A public domain title, D.O.A. would be a terrific film noir to target for restoration. In the meantime, most of the viewing options look about the same, including the HD presentation that sometimes airs on Turner Classic Movies.

POSSESSED (1947)

Warner Bros., 108m 8s

Like most movie genres, film noir tends to focus on male concerns, with plots built around male protagonists. But there have been some noir exceptions, a number of which feature Joan Crawford, i.e. MILDRED PIERCE (1945), SUDDEN FEAR (1952) and POSSESSED, the impressive psycho-noir under consideration here. There have been other leading ladies cast as the main protagonists of noir narratives, for instance WHIRLPOOL (1949) showcases Gene Tierney, THE RECKLESS MOMENT (1949) belongs to Joan Bennett, WOMAN IN HIDING (1950) features Ida Lupino and THE BLUE GARDENIA (1953), perhaps the purest example, stars Anne Baxter. The talent of those fine ladies notwithstanding, Crawford stands out as the most recognizable female lead ever to compliment a film noir. For the observer to take an interest in Mildred Pierce, Myra Hudson or even the tragically flawed Louise Howell is easy enough. Crawford's characters always embody an appealing combination of weakness and strength. In a landscape of females who mostly fall into inflexible archetypes, the noir characters Crawford creates seem the most human as they are drawn to the wrong men.

There is little doubt we are immersed in film noir when POSSESSED opens with its disoriented featured female staggering around L.A. streets, her sanity seeping away. Louise Howell (Crawford) is desperately in search of someone named "David," but nobody in the impersonal noir city is prepared to offer any assistance. She finds herself in an ambulance headed for the Los Angeles Municipal Hospital's psychopathic department. First-person perspective shots from the gurney make it clear in the early going this is Crawford's movie and we are meant to identify with her, even if she is in an inexplicable state of psychological anguish. Once properly medicated she begins to regain her senses and relate her story, as the frame dissolves into the past. Expressed in familiar film noir terms, only past events can explain present situations.

The calculated introduction of the incapacitated Louise and the medical team that surrounds her prepare the viewer for intense psychological drama. The psychological theme was a popular Hollywood convention of the post-WWII era. With so many of its characters presented as castaways suffering internally, the film noir genre is inherently psychological. Sometimes noir protagonists are absolute headcases put forth for filmgoer evaluation (i.e. WITHOUT WARNING! and THE SNIPER, both released in 1952), but seldom are such characters presented without significant background detail offered as an attachment. The noir film shows consistent concern for why characters behave the way they do, and why they tend to get caught up in dire situations. Thus the viewer is encouraged to empathize, even with some pretty undesirable types. The psychological theme sometimes extends to include major characters who are psychologists, i.e. SPELLBOUND (1945), THE DARK MIRROR (1946), SHOCK (1946), NIGHTMARE ALLEY (1947), THE DARK PAST (1948) and WHIRLPOOL (1949). POSSESSED director Curtis Bernhardt also helmed CONFLICT (1945) and HIGH WALL (1947), additional noir films steeped in psychological matters.

In its acknowledgment of unproductive relationships, POSSESSED is representative of a lot of film noirs. Nobody is happy, and married couples seem particularly embattled. Louise would like to marry structural engineer David Sutton (Van Heflin), but he is not open to the idea. An icy ex-GI, David shows zero interest in any type of long-term personal contract. He loves his work, not Louise. A very problematic marriage is that between Dean Graham (Raymond Massey) and his invalid wife Pauline, who never is shown clearly. Pauline is an insanely jealous, demanding woman who wrongly believes her husband is having an affair with her caregiver Louise. Her suspicions are not totally without merit, though, since Dean eventually marries Louise to form still another unproductive marriage. The interpersonal dynamics at work in POSSESSED are rooted in psychological issues. Critical character actions emerge from inaccurate assumptions and wrongheaded ideas.

The oft-used noir trope of water emphasizes rejection, disappointment, depression and death. David transports a brushed-off Louise home via his boat, water takes the life of Pauline, and a rainy evening forms the backdrop for an ill-fated connection between David and the much younger Carol Graham (Geraldine Brooks), Dean's pretty 20-year-old daughter. The schizophrenic Louise really loses it the night of a piano recital, when a lengthy downpour reflects unwelcome mental trauma that threatens to push her too far.

The 1080p dual-layered Blu-ray version available through the Warner Archive presents an ideal transfer of what must be well-preserved source materials. The original theatrical aspect ratio of 1.37:1 is observed, where the DVD version released by Warner in 2005 was cropped to 1.33:1. The Blu-ray disc retains the essential audio commentary track from the DVD with film historian Dr. Drew Casper. Professor of Critical Studies in the School of Cinematic Arts at the University of Southern California, the excitable Casper goes into great detail about film noir determinants that are heightened in POSSESSED. He elaborates on the influence of German Expressionism, Freudian psychology and social realism. Casper notes that no other studio specialized in social realism the way Warner did. That is why so many of the studio's star players were average-looking people the common man could identify with, i.e. Joan Blondell, Humphrey Bogart, Bette Davis, John Garfield, Edward G. Robinson, Barbara Stanwyck. Of course glamour was a big part of Crawford's game, but as Casper points out, in POSSESSED she is introduced almost completely debranded, wandering around an unfamiliar environment without makeup or any sense of self-worth.

Also carried over from the DVD is the featurette "POSSESSED: The Quintessential Film Noir" (2005, 9m 33s) and a theatrical trailer (2m 5s). The featurette offers a good, succinct analysis of how POSSESSED fits into the world of noir. The talking heads in attendance are Dr. Casper, Glenn Erickson, Eddie Muller and James Ursini. Muller contends lots of people believe Crawford delivers her greatest performance in POSSESSED. Crawford is terrific as Louise—she received an Academy Award nomination for Best Actress in a Leading Role—but I prefer Crawford's work in the classic film noirs MILDRED PIERCE and the lesser-known but outstanding SUDDEN FEAR, as well as the superb melodrama HARRIET CRAIG (1950). The 1931 Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer film entitled POSSESSED, also headlined by Crawford, is the same film in title only.

Van Heflin starred in other pivotal film noirs such as THE STRANGE LOVE OF MARTHA IVERS (1946), ACT OF VIOLENCE (1948) and THE PROWLER (1951). Brooks appeared in THE RECKLESS MOMENT, another film noir I recommend highly.

RIDE THE PINK HORSE (1947)

Universal International Pictures, 101m 33s

All film noir collectors should be aware RIDE THE PINK HORSE has been rescued from obscurity. It has received the prestigious Criterion Collection treatment, complete with informative supplemental material and an impressive 2K digital restoration of the feature film in its proper 1.37:1 aspect ratio, presented in 1080p via the Blu-ray edition. It is an underappreciated genre classic that stands out from other noirs of the late 1940s in regard to setting, characterizations, and resolution. Perhaps best of all, RIDE THE PINK HORSE is one of those rare movies that improves upon each viewing.

The noir protagonist on unfamiliar turf

A Greyhound arrives in San Pablo, New Mexico with tough guy Lucky Gagin (Robert Montgomery, who also directed) as a passenger on a mission. Soon after he arrives, the superstitious young Native American woman Pila (Wanda Hendrix) insistently gives the outsider Gagin an Ishtam charm for protection. "From what?" he asks, but his question goes unanswered. Like a guardian angel, Pila proceeds to shadow Gagin wherever he roams. Her impulses are logical enough; Gagin has planned a confrontation with Frank Hugo (Fred Clark), a crime boss who ordered the elimination of Gagin's good friend. What Gagin should have planned in addition is a hotel reservation—it turns out rooms are in short supply with an annual fiesta about to commence. Gagin has a few drinks at a bar with Pancho (Thomas Gomez), the owner of a carousel with the pink horse of the film's title. Pancho extends the hand of friendship and offers Gagin shelter. Another guy on the trail of Hugo is G-Man Bill Retz (Art Smith), who is set up as a redemptive figure for Gagin.

"Don't lose it."

For a noir film released in the late ‘40s, RIDE THE PINK HORSE communicates the noir visual style in a more subtle way than was typical of the time. There are the expected low camera angles, shadows cast by venetian blinds, uncertain nocturnal settings, and so on, but this film noir is defined first by its displaced protagonist. Not exactly the most likeable chap, Gagin admits, "I'm nobody's friend." A pushy, egocentric man, a litterbug, and openly racist, he calls Pila "Sitting Bull." Gagin is a veteran turned small-timer who never found his place in society after WWII. Whenever Gagin references the war, or much of any topic really, his tone is markedly bitter. As Retz puts it, "...you fought a war for three years and got nothing out of it but a dangle of ribbons." Postwar malaise only adds to Gagin's thorough hatred of Hugo, who managed to profit nicely from wartime economics. Robert Montgomery himself had served in the Navy as a lieutenant commander and was involved in the Normandy landings. His character Gagin may have survived the war, but Pila sees the disillusioned veteran as a dead man. The dead-man-walking is as familiar a noir theme as one is likely to find, i.e. THE DARK CORNER (1946), THE KILLERS (1946), OUT OF THE PAST (1947), ACT OF VIOLENCE (1948), D.O.A. (1950). And boy, does Gagin ever do a walking dead impersonation in the film's final act.

What if I came knocking?

Gagin (Robert Montgomery) shadowed by Pila (Wanda Hendrix)

San Pablo seems a suitable environment for an American "man with no place," but the true obstacle for Gagin is Hugo, who attempts to draw a hard-boiled connection between himself and Gagin:

"You and me, we eat out of the same dish. You used to think if you were a square guy, worked hard, played on the level, things would come your way. You found out you were wrong. All you get is pushed around. You found that people are interested only in one thing:  the payoff.”

Fred Clark creates a memorable noir villain. His Hugo is at once convincing as an educated lowlife. He is a smooth talker and quick thinker when the occasion demands, but is saddled with a cumbersome hearing aid. By way of editing, Hugo is associated closely with Zozobra, "The God of Bad Luck," a papier-mâché creation that is torched each September as a fiesta highlight. The tradition is cyclical in nature—like the carousel. Gagin’s Zozobra is Hugo.

Zozobra

The film's pervasive noir themes are consistent with the genre, especially when it comes to gender roles. Women are not to be trusted, with Gagin as our compass for this idea. He is needlessly curt with Pila, who is nothing but nice to him, and his experiences with other women explain at least in part why. His ex has run off with a man who was more financially set, and the tough-talking dame Marjorie Lundeen (Andrea King) makes it quite clear that money means more to her than whatever her relationship is with Hugo. Gagin seems wiser than the average noir stiff about women, but he wrongly distrusts all women, including the young person who shows the most genuine interest in his well-being.

Gagin (Robert Montgomery) and Marjorie Lundeen (Andrea King)

Two sequences contain violence that must have been quite a jolt for unsuspecting audiences of 1947. The attack on Gagin plays out with serious intent to kill and occurs just footsteps away from dining and dancing. Even more disturbing is the savage beating of Pancho, in full view of crying children aboard his carousel! If the protagonist Gagin is our subjective guide through San Pablo, these key sequences of violence suggest an objective viewpoint; a window into a dangerous border town where violence comes out of nowhere and no one is safe. These sequences confirm the connection between Gagin and Pancho within the inflexible boundaries of class distinctions. Gagin has more in common with working-class men like Pancho and Retz than he does Hugo. Only through banding together can such men hope to survive. The film's conflict is resolved when Gagin rejects the prospect of blackmail and adopts the philosophy of Pancho, who at one point tells Gagin, "I'm only happy when I got nothing." Only friendships mean something to Pancho, not material things. It is a familiar Hollywood tradition:  the impoverished are the happiest and least corrupted of folks. Thomas Gomez became the first Hispanic actor to receive an Academy Award nomination for his performance as the selfless Pancho.

Battle-tested director of photography Russell Metty photographed the Orson Welles film noir productions THE STRANGER (1946) and TOUCH OF EVIL (1958), the latter another border-town drama that would make an appropriate second feature after RIDE THE PINK HORSE. The long take that introduces Gagin at the bus station has its successor at the opening of TOUCH OF EVIL. The screenplay for RIDE THE PINK HORSE was written by Ben Hecht and Charles Lederer, working from the 1946 novel of the same title by Dorothy B. Hughes (IN A LONELY PLACE, 1947). The filmed adaptation was produced by Joan Harrison, who also contributed a draft of the screenplay. She had served as a co-screenwriter on a number of Alfred Hitchcock projects including JAMAICA INN (1939), REBECCA (1940), FOREIGN CORRESPONDENT (1940), SUSPICION (1941) and SABOTEUR (1942). She would move on to become one of the few female producers working in Hollywood at that time. Her earliest credits as producer were PHANTOM LADY (1944) and THE STRANGE AFFAIR OF UNCLE HARRY (1945), both directed by Robert Siodmak.

The disoriented war veteran faces trouble

Montgomery was among the first of well-known actors to assume the director's chair. Just prior to RIDE THE PINK HORSE he directed and starred in his much better-known film noir LADY IN THE LAKE, a (mostly failed) first-person experiment. In 1950 the TV series Robert Montgomery Presents aired a "Ride the Pink Horse" episode. The story returned to the small screen again when the original film was remade as the 1964 made-for-TV movie THE HANGED MAN, directed by Don Siegel.

The audio commentary track, recorded in November 2014, brings together estimable film noir authorities Alain Silver and James Ursini, the film historians known for THE FILM NOIR ENCYCLOPEDIA and the FILM NOIR READER series. They offer a vast amount of detail about the careers of Montgomery and Harrison, and a great deal of evidence is provided regarding the noir elements that characterize RIDE THE PINK HORSE. The authors consider Montgomery’s film both naturalistic and archetypal noir. The duo also compares and contrasts the film with the Hughes novel, which was more cynical than the Hollywood interpretation possibly could have been.

Also insightful is the interview (19m 58s) with Imogen Sara Smith, the author of IN LONELY PLACES: FILM NOIR BEYOND THE CITY (2011). Smith calls attention to the fact that the border-town setting is not unique to RIDE THE PINK HORSE, but what is unusual is how integral some of the local people become to the storyline. The lead protagonist comes to recognize and accept his connection to the common people of San Pablo. Smith also advances the age-old argument that film noir is not a genre, but a style or mood. It is true that the film noir term did not exist until after the most robust cycle of noir had ended, but the absence of that term does not mean those involved in such productions were not clear about what they were filming! For some reason this is a very difficult concept for critics to grasp.

Another welcome feature of this Criterion disc is the Lux Radio Theatre adaptation (59m 32s) of the film, again with Montgomery, Hendrix, and Gomez. Also included is a booklet with the fine essay "Bad Luck All Around" by filmmaker and writer Michael Almereyda.

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)