Sunday, July 12, 2015

NORA PRENTISS (1947)

Warner Bros., 111m 13s


A brief synopsis of NORA PRENTISS brings to mind a fairly standard film noir template that hails from the mid-to-late '40s:  a man bound to routine becomes obsessed with a woman he meets through chance—or perhaps by fate. The chance encounter proves to be a waterfall event; like so many noirs of this period, NORA PRENTISS unleashes a contagion that has its origin in a flirtation. This type of narrative works under the reasonable assumption that the average man will do pretty much anything to get his hands on a great-looking woman. But in this case, the male protagonist must not only behave like a different person, he must become a different person.

Locked up

The bulk of the story plays out via flashback as a condemned man sits behind bars. Cardiovascular specialist Dr. Richard Talbot (Kent Smith) lives in San Francisco with his wife Lucy (Rosemary DeCamp), who seems a bit domineering throughout the family exposition sequence. The couple has two children, Greg (Robert Arthur) and Bonita (Wanda Hendrix, RIDE THE PINK HORSE [1947]). Richard is a creature of habit, much like Professor Immanuel Rath (Emil Jannings) in the proto-noir THE BLUE ANGEL (Der blaue Engel, [1930]). Also like Professor Rath, Dr. Talbot is vulnerable when confronted with an attractive, street-smart woman.

After Richard's rather ordinary lot in life is established, he deviates from his usual regimen and shows up at the office a little late, which in turn causes him to work later. Just as he is headed home, the pedestrian Nora Prentiss (Ann Sheridan) is struck by a vehicle and requires medical attention. The two engage in conversation and the sexual tension is obvious. Any fan of film noir knows each would be wise to run the other way. What is fascinating about NORA PRENTISS is both halves of the couple are aware of it as well, though Nora understands the futility of the mutual attraction best. These things typically do not work out well for the other woman.

Only at the film noir doctor's office...

The film's characters prove to be multi-dimensional after cleverly being introduced as flat. To begin with the title character, Nora is introduced by way of numerous femme fatale warning signals. A nightclub singer (what else?), she is a tough talker who has a way of controlling conversations. She has grown tired of being kicked around and has learned to expect very little of the men in her life. She even points out that Richard brought them together when he altered his usual schedule. Eventually it becomes apparent that Nora is not one of those dangerous dames of noir. She's just a woman from the Midwest whose dreams of stardom never panned out. As her relationship with Richard evolves, the camera observes some of her private moments of emotion. Her feelings for Richard are real. But she also is a sensible person, and repeatedly recognizes that a future with Richard is an unlikely prospect. Richard's wife Lucy also is a different person than the all-day disciplinarian the viewer is led to believe initially. She is a pillar of household stability and her feelings and concern for Richard ring true. Then there is Dr. Joel Merriam (Bruce Bennett), who at first seems the carefree bachelor, yet strongly encourages Lucy to not give up on her straying husband easily. Joel is a little jealous of the married man, perhaps?

Richard Talbot (Kent Smith) cannot face his family

Despite the film's title, in actuality NORA PRENTISS is the tragic story of Richard Talbot. Kent Smith turned in an uninspired performance in the otherwise sublime CAT PEOPLE (1942), but he is in top form here as one of the more sympathetic protagonists on record in the "downward spiral" noir category. Richard's attraction to Nora is due in part to his identity crisis, brought about by the dissonance between indulgences (the single man) and abstentions (the married guy). His lack of a fulfilling identity causes a split, specifically manifested as "Robert Thompson" during his first night out with Nora, and later via his doppelgänger who unwittingly provides Richard with a turnkey alternate identity. The circumstances that lead to the final transition from Richard to Robert make for a wild third act, where the hopelessness of the situation is reflected darkly in ace cinematographer James Wong Howe's skillful but unpretentious coverage.

Bandages

Per usual, the indifferent nature of the noir city contributes to human anonymity and deterioration. In fact, Richard's new identity is made possible by the noir city. Doomed heart patient Walter Bailey (John Ridgely) foreshadows this idea in the early stages of the film, "It's a big city and there's nobody to know whether you're alive or dead, and very few people who care." Richard later echoes this sentiment while getting to know Nora, "In a big city, you don't even know your next-door neighbor." That ultimate instance of existential recognition—a defining moment of most of the best film noirs—occurs following the courtroom sequence. Richard/Robert realizes the preservation of Richard's memory as a kind and decent man trumps whatever meaningless future he may have.

Separated

A solemn commentary about the stakes involved when it comes to extramarital affairs, NORA PRENTISS elicits a strong sense of empathy for its characters. By the end of the film, one must feel sorry for everyone involved. It is also a film noir just packed with ironies. Director Vincent Sherman (BACKFIRE [1950], THE DAMNED DON'T CRY [1950]) again teamed with Ann Sheridan for THE UNFAITHFUL (1947), released just months after NORA PRENTISS.

"I'm no possible good to anybody."

The NORA PRENTISS DVD version available through the Warner Archive is framed at 1.33:1 and presents soft contrast, with various scratches and artifacts visible from time to time. My disc is glitchy during the courtroom sequence.  A theatrical trailer (2m 35s) works hard to appeal to fans of MILDRED PIERCE (1945), the more famous Warner Bros. production, for which Sheridan turned down the lead role.

Sunday, June 21, 2015

THE STRANGE AFFAIR OF UNCLE HARRY (1945)

Universal Pictures, 80m 37s


Harry Melville Quincey (George Sanders) is a repressed, middle-aged man who works as a textile designer at the Warren Mill in the little town of Corinth, New Hampshire. His once well-to-do family was done in by the Great Depression. What remains is the family home, where the unassertive Harry carries out a meek existence with his two sisters, both of whom have their baggage. Hester (Moyna MacGill) is a widow and might be considered an hysteric were it not for her younger sister Lettie (Geraldine Fitzgerald), who one-ups her in that department with ease. "…my sisters are dependent on me…" Harry explains. The sickly Lettie in particular requires constant care, much like her plants; she has more in common with vegetation than people.

Deborah Brown (Ella Raines)

The Quincey family living arrangement is threatened when big-city gal Deborah Brown (Ella Raines) arrives on the scene. She may not be a femme fatale in the proper sense, but she certainly destabilizes the Quincey household with her arrival from New York and highly improbable romantic interest in Harry. Ella Raines was one of those rare actresses who could look seductive without doing much of anything. But given the obvious age difference between Raines and Sanders, the believability of the relationship that develops between Harry and Deborah is a strain on narrative credibility. Regardless, the two deliver one of the most startling conversations to drip with sexual suggestion this side of Bogart and Bacall in THE BIG SLEEP (1946). Here is just a portion of it:

Deborah:  "Which one is Saturn?”
Harry:  "Om, there it is, up there."
Deborah:  "But where are the rings?"
Harry:  "Well you can't see them with the naked eye."
Deborah:  "Harry, you're beginning to sound indecent."
Harry:  "Well, I only meant that you have to have quite a powerful telescope to see the rings. They were very clear last night."
Deborah:  "Oh, you have a telescope?"
Harry:  "Yes, a 9" one. I built it myself."
Deborah:  "Are the rings clear tonight, do you think?"
Harry:  "I don't know. We'll have to wait quite a while before it rises high enough, and it still might be hazy then."
Deborah:  "We could go try, couldn't we?"
Harry:  "Alright."

With sparks flying like that, they decide to get hitched, which causes Lettie to shift into severe high-maintenance mode. In truth the film's provocative title reflects the implied incest between Harry and his unfairly demanding sister Lettie, not the relationship between Harry and Deborah. Lettie’s devotion to her brother is a selfish and sick kind of love. Fitzgerald plays the part of the noir psycho for all it’s worth.





The crazed Lettie Quincey (Geraldine Fitzgerald)

THE STRANGE AFFAIR OF UNCLE HARRY qualifies as noir mostly in terms of its incredibly awkward family situation. The conclusion recalls Fritz Lang's THE WOMAN IN THE WINDOW (1944) in its attempt to tone down some of the story's perverse implications. Nonetheless, the theatrical poster's imagery speaks the truth.

The dark side of Harry Quincey (George Sanders)

Based on the play by Thomas Job as produced for the stage by Clifford Hayman, this filmed adaptation is not one of the most complete works directed by Robert Siodmak, but it is difficult to complain much about his noir legacy, which includes PHANTOM LADY (1944), CHRISTMAS HOLIDAY (1944), THE SPIRAL STAIRCASE (1945), THE KILLERS (1946), THE DARK MIRROR (1946), CRY OF THE CITY (1948), CRISS CROSS (1949) and THE FILE ON THELMA JORDON (1950). Producer Joan Harrison also worked with Siodmak and Raines on PHANTOM LADY. Sanders appeared in the gothic noir HANGOVER SQUARE, also released in 1945, with Linda Darnell and Laird Cregar.

Keep your big mouth shut

The no-frills, 1080P single-layered Blu-ray edition now available from Olive Films yields speckled and scratched 35mm source material, but this film is unlikely to become the object of any significant restorative work. The theatrical aspect ratio of 1.37:1 is preserved.


Friday, May 1, 2015

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.

Sunday, April 19, 2015

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.

Saturday, March 28, 2015

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-mâchĂ© 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.