Film Noir HoF IV

Bam! Short and sweet. Just like many film noir films, Detour has a flashback narrative, sizzling femme fatale, sad-sack narration, slick dialogue, down-on-his-luck protagonist and unexpected death. At 68-minutes in length, it's an attractive prospect to watch and in the end doesn't at all feel truncated or rushed - the pace isn't all that fast, but takes it's time in establishing Al Roberts (Tom Neal) and the relationship he has with singer Sue Harvey (Claudia Drake) - the two are part of a New York nightclub act, Roberts playing the piano and Sue singing. When Sue decides she has to try her luck in Hollywood, it isn't long before poor old Al finds himself hitchhiking across the U.S. - and it isn't long before Al finds himself getting deeper and deeper into a terrible, frightening situation that started with a simple, innocuous accident.

There are a lot of little attractive features in this noir - take the 1941 Lincoln Continental which becomes a pivotal part of the story, a car that the characters talk about selling for two thousand dollars. In 1940s money that's quite a bit of dough for the hurried selling of an automobile, and it almost figures as one of the characters in Detour - a fine looking automobile. Then there's Tom Neal - compact champion amateur boxer who at one stage had a 31 win to 1 loss record with many of those wins a knockout. He plays his part well here - because in a challenging way, Detour requires him to play Al as the more passive and innocent character. The film as a whole doesn't betray the fact that it was made on a shoestring budget, and is still very well regarded today. The snappy story and all-in performances from Neal and Ann Savage had me hooked, and I didn't check too closely under the bonnet.

So, the story as a whole is meant to be taken at face value I believe, but I was often wondering if this was just the version Al was telling us. That's because every time a freak accident occurred, I didn't believe it even though I was watching it play out. I kept on figuring that this is Al's story at a police station or to some confidante - making up implausible excuses for why everything ended up the way it did. But after all that - I did come around to the conclusion that a series of remarkable events led what seems to be an Al with fated ill-luck to the point we see him in at the start of the film. A gruff, nervous, on-edge grouch ready to fight and unwilling to engage in friendly dialogue. He's one of those unfortunates who have the unenviable burden of owning a real life series of events that nobody would ever believe if told. Poor old Al. Sucks to be Al. Good for us though - any film that makes you go "I can't believe that just happened!" numerous times is no doubt fun.

All-up a very short, well-regarded film noir classic that I really enjoyed watching, my attention never wavering. A blast from the past about the sudden way a person's life can lead them inexorably down paths they don't want to go down, and become glued to people they desperately want to get away from - all it takes is an accident, one moment where your concentration wavers, or one really bad decision. The great thing about the movies is that we can watch that happen to someone guilt-free, and actually enjoy the fact we're not them. I can see a return to this movie (on Criterion I reckon) some time in my future - great stuff. As Errol Morris would go on to say, "It has an unparalleled quality of despair, totally unrelieved by hope." Schadenfreude at it's 1940s finest.

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Nice review, @PHOENIX74. And I agree: that '41 Lincoln Continental was a beauty. It's interesting that I read that the car was actually director Edgar Ulmer's personal car. They used it to save production costs. Talk about a shoestring budget! Also I seem to recall that they really only used about 3 sets.

Turn up the heat, the coolness, the sex-appeal and the mysterious power of Rita Hayworth - all wrapped up in Buenos Aires, a Casablanca-like den of corruption, blackmail, sex, gambling, hustling and crime. If that sounds pretty good, it is. Con-man, cheat and hustler Johnny Farrell (a young and handsome Glenn Ford) finds himself swimming with sharks when an outstretched hand saves him from being robbed and possibly murdered. Savior Ballin Mundson (George Macready), a scarred, soft-toned man of mystery, keeps a blade concealed in his cane and operates an illegal gambling den. Farrell gets a job managing the place and all is smooth sailing until Mundson brings Gilda into the equation. Gilda has been "bought", and Mundson has married her - but despite his infatuation, Gilda, being none too different from Farrell and himself, soon starts to shake her cage and provoke Johnny - her jailkeeper. Just as Mundson suspects, the two have a history - the steamy heat between them will go on to create resentful recriminations, anger and mutual obsession.

The "tungsten monopoly" Mundson presides over is mere scaffolding to hang the silky frame of Hayworth and powerful posing of Ford on - and it allows added drama and danger to be introduced to the story. We get deadly German agents, gun-toting desperados that are being blackmailed and Argentinian investigators constantly in the mix, while attendant Uncle Pio (Steven Geray) hears and sees all. What's important is Gilda - portrayed by husky voiced Rita as confidant, self-assured and strong - with a hint of sadness. Hayworth was lip-synching the songs she performs in the movie, but all the same - her "Put the Blame on Mame" and "Amado Mio" are unforgettable. Something else that can never be forgotten are the various costumes Hayworth wears in this - black and strapless or glittering, they light up every new appearance from the actress (and were designed by Jean Louis - 14 Oscar nominations, and one win in 1957 for The Solid Gold Cadillac.) She dominates every scene she's in, and is a towering presence in Gilda.

So, what I learned in the end was how to watch Gilda - never mind about the plot, and just sit back to admire how good-looking everything is, and how every scene is suffused with either danger or sex. That goes for the first part of the story with Farrell and Mundson forming the bond they do - I'm with all of the people who see bisexual overtones. In the meantime, Rudolph Maté's cinematography is so much fun to watch. He's often willing to frame characters in silhouette, and utilizes clever and inventive movement. Everything is often bathed in soft light. The visual artistry is noticeable right from the opening scene, where we glide up through impenetrable floorboards to a low angle of Farrell rolling his trusty crooked dice, maintaining that perspective then slowly lifting and pulling back to reveal the number of back alley marks he's bravely hustling money from as he scoops the cash up. This is one noir that has in it's favour a wonderful visual component.

My only complaints with Gilda are that it's a little lengthy for a film noir classic, and that it also has an ending that feels absolutely wrong considering what it is. Those are far from deal breakers for me and this film however - I think it's fantastic, a pleasure to watch, and has everything a film of this type needs to burn up the screen. It's a movie that just wants to put sexual tension mixed with danger up there, so it gets right to it and keeps us enthralled by those two subjects from start to finish - I love watching Rita Hayworth and Glenn Ford do their stuff. I enjoyed seeing Ford's Farrell go from two-bit hustler to casino lieutenant, and the change in body language throughout conveys his increasing sense of power. I enjoyed Hayworth's way of sending what should be clear signals to men who are too dumb to pick up on them. (Jessica Rabbit in Who Framed Roger Rabbit was based on her character in this.) Her constant sexual innuendo is risqué for a film made in the era it was, and I love it.

So, is this one of the best film noirs I've ever seen? I'd have to say yes. Some come and go, and most are really enjoyable - but Gilda is going to stick with me. Rita Hayworth's low husky invitations to dance will ring in my ears. In the meantime Farrell really is one of the great hustlers in films - he has plenty of company, but none are quite as suave, boyishly good looking, solid and crisply well-spoken. Farrell and Gilda make for a great couple - even if Farrell is a little slow off the mark. As for Mundson - if you wear a scar like he does, and buy women when you fall for them, there's going to be no surprise to find out you're the villain in the end. Nothing in this film is really hard on the eyes - lending the steamy atmosphere a level of film-watching enjoyment that gives me the feeling that I should look out for this on the big screen. It falls short of being a Casablanca, but boy, it comes close. Turns out Humphrey Bogart was offered the role of Farrell - but he turned it down, saying "Everyone will be looking at Rita Hayworth!" Very astute, that man.

If you posted a noir review today, December 2nd, it might have vanished as Yoda had some issues with the site's data base. In that case I hope you saved a draft

Always do. If I didn't, and I lost my review, my second attempt would certainly be brief.

Don't touch that alarm lady, it's not worth it! When Annie Laurie Starr (Peggy Cummins) is around, you'll be lucky if you don't catch a few slugs regardless. Gun Crazy takes timely inspiration (if that's the right word) from real life bank robbers Bonnie and Clyde - but grounds the story by following Annie's more morally adjusted husband, Bart Tare (John Dall) from childhood. From his fascination with guns as soon as he can walk, regret upon killing a chick when he was really little, penchant for robbery and burglary as he grows up to stint in the military as a man - Bart's life is suddenly complicated when he meets Annie as she performs sharpshooting gun tricks in a carnival. When it's revealed that Bart can shoot even better than the star attraction, the heat starts to build. Annie is a viper of a femme fatale though - nearly psychotic, and her need for ready cash then instant riches seems to stem from the need to take risks and hurt people. It's an awry pairing.

Annie's not set for a quiet life as a housewife, stretching her budget for a baby and going to an occasional picnic. Her carnival boss - also lusting after her - warns Bart there's trouble ahead. Annie enjoys being won over with dead-eye shooting, and a fight for her affections - but just as we're warming to incoming danger, our pair's chemistry is dependent on that flame keeping their passion red hot. When Annie demands money and guides Bart's hand, a cinematic fuse is lit and a timer sets off in our mind. Scenes featuring robberies start small and increase in scale until we eventually get to the first bank job these two do - it's a landmark moment in the film, because Joseph H. Lewis and co. have something special in store for us - and by the time it's over the movie is on fire and there's no putting it out.

I'm a sucker for the long take - while many cineastes chide movies for the showiness inherent in pulling off long complex shots, I'm still excited by them. Gun Crazy is famous for one of these. A bank robbery that unfolds from our vantage point in the back seat of a Cadillac - from the trip there, to Bart going in and Annie taking care of an unfortunate cop who happens to be wandering by, we stick with it right through the speedy getaway until the entire scene is over. One shot. I applaud. (Cinematographer Russell Harlan would go on to be nominated for an Oscar 6 times in his career.) I also enjoyed taking a literal ride on a rollercoaster - there was nowhere this movie wouldn't go. The excitement is palpable when the pair pull off a meat packing joint heist, running from room to warehouse room. If you ask me, their plan was crazy - they had to run through the whole place, get to their car, turn the car all the way around and then split. It seems to take forever - and I'm sure that's what it would have felt like for a real pair of robbers.

So - indeed. We know exactly how all of this is going to end, but the trip itself is full of tension and excitement. Our sympathies are directed squarely at Bart - who refuses to shoot anyone, and does his absolute best to try and make sure Annie doesn't. He even tortures himself over shooting the tire out from a cop car. What it does is put a very bright spotlight on sexual attraction, lust, love, desire and our need to do whatever it takes to satisfy it - once Bart is captivated by Annie there's no going back for him. It's easy for us, watching on, to say "Leave her Bart - get the hell out of there and never look back." Although he's shown he has a propensity to steal, that's not the path he's on when he comes across his sweetheart and future bride. Irish actress Peggy Cummins imbues her steamy shootist with pure noir sexuality - enough for us to believe Bart would do anything for her.

I really enjoyed Gun Crazy - it's another of those film noir titles that wasn't a really big production, but nevertheless went on to merit inclusion in film books and movie collections as a must have. It's screenplay written by a blacklisted screenwriter (Trumbo was credited onscreen as "Millard Kaufman"), featuring actors who would be famous primarily for starring in it, and directed by a B-movie film director. Some of the very best films come far from the mainstream - and that especially goes for film noir (again, I write like I'm some expert, where in all actuality it's a particular blind spot for me.) Importantly, it sets everything up and from that point on just keeps punching, never letting up. Bart and Annie spend a lot of Gun Crazy running - either on foot, or in a stolen car that's occasionally trying to sneak over state borders or by roadblocks. They're not as publicity-hungry as Bonnie and Clyde - but have our attention, and keep it until the film's agonizing closing moments.

Only two weeks left until the deadline of Dec 16...Most of you are going strong, so keep watching those noirs!

@Diehl40 @edarsenal @GulfportDoc @PHOENIX74 @rauldc14 @Siddon @Thief

This is the big one. The essence, as far as I can tell. How we were finally able to define "cool" in the 20th Century. This is the movie that really does get better each time you see it - one with a sensational array of uncommon characters twisted into it's mysterious story. The one that introduces us to Private Detective Sam Spade (Humphrey Bogart) - the ultimate for his keen eye, quick mind, sharp tongue and indomitable spirit. Much like Marlon Brando did with Vito Corleone, Bogart became an insoluble part of popular culture and cinematic mythology by embodying this character. Spade is instantly recognizable to someone who has never even seen the film before, because he became the very definition of the iconic gumshoe - and in portraying him, Bogart doesn't even seem to be acting. He's only too happy to be Spade, and I imagine it felt glorious to play the role. So confident he feels a little irritated and bored when someone is pointing a gun at him - a situation I freely admit might have me messing myself.

Author Dashiell Hammett, who wrote the novel, had been a detective at the Pinkerton Detective Agency in San Francisco and made Sam Spade one who many saw themselves as, but none really were - a perfect amalgam of assured charm, masterly skill and handsome features. Miles Archer, Spade's partner, might be one of these wannabes - but he doesn't last long. When eye-catching Ruth Wonderly (Mary Astor) sashays into Miles and Sam's office, and asks them to try and find her missing sister by trailing a Floyd Thursby, Miles is happy to have a crack at it. By morning he's dead, as is Floyd Thursby, and the plot thickens - the cops suspect Sam has had something to do with the death of Miles, and Sam suspects that Ruth has been feeding him lies. Soon a comical conspirator named Joel Cairo (Peter Lorre) announces himself, Sam is being tailed by a Wilmer Cook (Elisha Cook Jr.) and waiting in the shadows is Kasper Gutman (Sydney Greenstreet) - miscreants, and all chasing one thing - The Maltese Falcon.

What I notice most about it visually are the camera angles. Fancy taking on the very rotund Kaspar Gutman, who is sitting down, from around floor-level - right up close, like we have our face in his groin. In fact, many of the times we're in the company of nefarious goons we're looking up at them as if they're imposing giants. When we first get a good look at Wilmer Cook he's sitting down, but as the camera draws in closer and closer, we're no higher than knee-level, the low camera angle more betrayed by proximity. The movie is also famous for it's low-key lighting - eventually film noir techniques would experiment more and more with shadow and darkness. It always feels like it's night, and sunlight is never apparent. Cinematographer Arthur Edeson was well experienced, and had shot 1930 classic All Quiet on the Western Front - one of his three Oscar nominations included that, and what is possibly his greatest film, Casablanca. He was one of the founders of the American Society of Cinematographers.

Important to the movie though, is the feel we get of the mania surrounding the search for and possession of the Maltese Falcon itself - you even see Sam Spade fall under it's spell, with uncharacteristic excitement getting to him when he thinks he may just have it. John Huston was making his directorial debut here, and was Oscar-nominated for adapting Hammett's novel - he delves deeper and deeper into desperation itself. There's also a lot of unexpected humour - one of the running jokes in the film involves the way Spade continually disarms various thugs with a variety of tricks and fast moves. During one scene a pistol is passed back and forth between Spade and Cairo (seeing it once in a cinema, I noticed this part gets a big laugh.) Perhaps it's best feature is it's snappy dialogue - something that also became a feature of film noir. Performance-wise, Sydney Greenstreet (who had never been in a film before) was singled out for an Oscar nomination - but this really is a great ensemble effort. Bogart, Astor and Lorre are also so much fun to watch.

To encapsulate everything - The Maltese Falcon has grown on me over the years - big time. The first time I saw it, I was typically confused a little by it's quick-fire dialogue - you need to follow who's who and what they're saying, then you have to cross out the parts that end up being lies, which is a lot. There's one crucial exchange near the end that Spade forces our femme fatale to spit out in a hurry. I'm at the stage now where I have everything sorted out straight in my mind - so I just enjoy the performances, cinematography and even 3-time Oscar winner Adolph Deutsch's exciting score - the way he emphasises moments. It's a great story. Bogart is beyond cool - his unflappable manner is something I wish I had, and his quick-thinking detective mind has him ready with a quip, question or perfect response in an instant. Watching him simply makes me feel really, really good. Watching everyone in The Maltese Falcon does. Simply watching The Maltese Falcon does. It's a great film. The first time I saw it I didn't sit well with it's classic status. Now I'm ready to put it there myself.

I'm turning into something of a Humphrey Bogart fan. I already love him in The African Queen and Casablanca, but seeing The Big Sleep and considering how I feel about The Maltese Falcon I get the adoration through the ages. It wasn't all his own doing - though he's a fine actor. He was born with that voice and those looks, and the words he speaks are put there by writers. He's perfect for Sam Spade though - would first choice George Raft have been as good? Probably not. Call it fate then. John Huston would go on to have an incredible career as well - and what an amazing debut. He made what's just about the perfect movie - and seems to have just about kicked off an entire film movement, although that's up for debate. I haven't mentioned it yet here, but of course the mixture of death, sex, money, love, evil, hate, greed and violence are a potent mix, and along with that, if you have interesting characters, great dialogue and a fetching McGuffin, you nearly have it all. The Maltese Falcon has it all, and this is my first love letter directed at it. A truly great film - historically great. The stuff that dreams are made of.

Joan Crawford made a huge comeback in 1945's Mildred Pierce. Director Michael Curtiz was reluctant to hire the former MGM movie star, who had a reputation for being difficult to work with...and in the last few years hadn't been been as popular as she once was. But if there's someone who gave 100% to any movie that she was in, it was Joan. I've seen a number of her films including her last ones like Trog and Berserk which were low budget, drive-in movies and yet Joan Crawford handled herself on screen like she was in an Oscar winning picture. I've never seen her give a bad performance.

Mildred Pierce was nominated for 6 Oscars, winning one, Best Actress for Joan Crawford. The one and only time she would win an Oscar. Joan pours herself into her role of a working class single woman who pulls herself up and becomes a successful business woman....A role that was not unlike her own life. Ann Blyth plays her spoiled rotten daughter to perfection, ohh! she was evil. She was nominated for best supporting actress at the ripe old age of 16.

Mildred Pierce might sound like a soap opera, but thanks to the flashback opening scenes with Joan being taken to police headquarters for a murder...the film lands in pure noir territory. Mildred Pierce has several sub stories running along with the main theme that makes this movie a master piece. The script is as fresh as a just baked peach pie.

CR reminded me that I’m a little short on my commentaries, so here’s a few mentions in attempts to catch me up:

Gilda is a wonderful movie, and I'm a complete Rita Hayworth kind of guy (she's just ahead of Ava Gardner). But IMO it wasn't strong enough of a film to be in my top 25.

I've always liked Glenn Ford in just about all of his films. However some of his earlier roles, like this one, suffer from his collegiate looks. Another one would be The Loves of Carmen, done just 2 years later. Best at more "common man" roles, he often doesn't seem convincing as a heavy, at least early in his career.

In Gun Crazy the cinematography was unusual and innovative for the time (1949). There was lots of location footage, but what was interesting was how many scenes were shot with the camera in the back seat of a car (they used a stretch limousine), showing the action of the people in the front seat, and observing integral action occurring where they were driving-- a great long take. I wondered who the cinematographer was, so I looked him up. Sure enough, it was Russell Harlan, who photographed Witness for the Prosecution, To Kill a Mockingbird, and Hatari. The picture is worth watching just for Harlan's work.

John Dall co-starred with Peggy Cummings. He seemed too refined for the role, but yet he seemed very familiar. I couldn't place what else he'd been in. Then it came to me that he'd co-starred with Farley Granger in Rope. He was best at portraying sophisticated characters.


A great film, and one of the greatest noirs. I love that long take sequence while the couple were driving to the bank heist. Very innovative for its day.

Peggy Cummins was such a sweet Irish lassie to play such a psychopathic femme fatale killer. And the kinky sexual turn-on from guns and murder was pretty suggestive for 1950.

I'm sure that the screen writers for Bonnie and Clyde (1967) were strongly influenced by this landmark film.


Both thumbs way up for Criss Cross. One of the great classic noirs. Yvonne De Carlo was just about full on nasty. It also features Burt Lancaster, and Dan Duryea, and has a great story directed by IMO the premiere noir director, Robert Siodmak.

A lot of people have the opinion that San Francisco is the best city for noir. But I've always preferred L.A.-- like in this picture.


Touch of Evil is one of Welles' masterpieces. It was pretty much to 1958 what Citizen Kane was to 1941. In my view the film is practically flawless.

Eddie Muller (the “Czar of Noir”) believes that Ricardo Montalban would have been ideal for the role of Ramon Vargas, which is true. However Charlton Heston did a wonderful job. In fact it was Heston who suggested that Welles direct. The film was littered with great performances.

Top 50 of all time, top 10 of the 1950s.

Criss Cross



After really enjoying Siodmak's two films I've seen, this one actually kind of disappointed me. I felt the movie didn't have a lot of excitement to it, it just kind of slogged along. It was a nice looking film and the acting was pretty decent though. By the time that we get to the interesting ending a lot of the interest was already gone. I wouldnt consider it bad but I find that it doesn't belong in that upper echelon of noir goodness.

On the 12 days of Noir Hall my homies gave to me...

Usually when people find success and money, they're doing it for gratification and happiness. The more money Mildred Pierce (Joan Crawford) makes, and the more success she has, the less it seems to matter to her personally. In this 1945 melodrama, Mildred gets knocked down in the first reel, and gets kicked while she's down. She continues to get kicked throughout the whole film, even after getting back up - and you're not quite sure who's to blame. Everyone, I guess. There aren't many characters who don't have a smudge on their soul in this, although that particular seed of thought is planted at the very outset - when Mildred invites a man over on false pretenses, planning for him to take the fall for a murder he didn't commit. When the cops finger someone completely separate to her scheme - her ex-husband - Mildred is forced to talk, and thereby she narrates the story through flashbacks, and we rewind to a time when everything was seemingly happy and normal.

Mildred has a few men in her life. First her husband, Bert Pierce (Bruce Bennett) just ups and leaves her - but not before delivering a whole dump of exposition and foreshadowing. Then there's Wally Fay (Jack Carson), whose continual, never-ending attempt to light up some kind of romance between them seems to have prompted Mildred to frame him for murder. They seem like friends, but Wally is the kind of male friend who requires a lady keep pepper spray or mace at close hand. Monte Beragon (Zachary Scott) rounds out this trio of heels, and the only difference between him and Wally is the fact that Mildred gives in to his constant pressuring after a while and convinces herself that she must love him if she's willing to go that far just to ease the tension. Mildred spends much of the film either fending of this or that amorous advance, or needing to discuss business at the peril of being pressured into bed.

It was a man's world concerning business as well, and Mildred's entrepreneurial spirit means that her waitress friends aren't her equals for long. She has two daughters, and Mildred Pierce hinges on the spoiled older one, Veda (Ann Blyth) - who happens to be a monster. Veda is the reason Mildred is doing any of this, and the more she gives to her the more Veda complains that it simply isn't enough. One heartbreaking early scene has Mildred, unseen, listening on as Veda explains to her other daughter, Kay (Jo Ann Marlowe) that the gift of a dress she's been given is completely inadequate and how she'd be ashamed to be seen in it. This is what drives Mildred on to become what she does, without realising that it's a bottomless pit. Sad Mildred. Joan Crawford won an Oscar for this role - and she turned the win into a bizarre bed-side spectacle, apparently feigning illness on Oscar night. Her reasoning for doing what she did changed over the years, but in the end it made her win more memorable than many others.

Mildred Pierce was a bit of a tough watch for me. I didn't want to see Mildred have to fight such a tide of ill fortune, shady friends, poisoned children, bad business and murder. What did she do to deserve all of that aside from spoil her daughter? The movie itself is very well made though, and along with some good performances benefits from Ernest Haller's versatile cinematography, and Max Steiner's oft-present, very nice, dramatic score. It feels unusual (in a good way) to segue from normal dramatic scenes, lit like any old drama, and then find ourselves in a police station or deserted beach house, with the lighting quite dramatically toned down, and shadows dominating. It feels like a real combination of two genres, and took me by surprise. Noir probably dominates in that we have Joan Crawford's narration, and the story is told in flashback, but melodrama is the meat on it's film noir bones.

So - we're not so much about steamy sensual passion in Mildred Pierce, and that definitely means we're into money territory. I forget which is meant to make the world turn, but it definitely creates a swirl here and creates a passion all of it's own that'll lead to murder in the end. We see this in fiction - a family that seems a picture of happiness before money starts to put pressure on relationships much like fat does a person's body. But before I sign off making this film sound like a suffocating, stressful ordeal, I have to pay tribute to Eve Arden who plays Mildred's compatriot Ida - she's often ready with a quip and continues on always untouched by the madness and drama that surrounds Mildred Pierce. She sparkles so much she was nominated for a Best Supporting Actress Oscar. Yeah - there's an easy breezy air to much of this film to stop us from becoming too gloomy. I credit that to Ranald MacDougall and his canny instinct to balance everything out. Still - in the end, someone is going to have to pay for that dead body in the beach house. Will it be Mildred?

Mildred Pierce (1945) was a tremendous comeback for Joan Crawford. After starring in silent movies, and continuing on into the 1930s as a huge box office star, her popularity had gradually waned to where MGM dropped her in 1942. Later she successfully lobbied Warner Bros. for the part of Mildred, even agreeing to a screen test. The picture’s success and Crawford’s Best Actress Oscar put her back on the map big time.

It’s a tawdry story of a hard working mother trying to provide the good life for her spoiled brat daughter, who is embarrassed by her mother’s low financial standing. Later the daughter tries to steal her mother’s new sleazy husband and business partner. When he rejects her, the daughter shoots him dead. After several twists it leads to a satisfactory ending.

Great direction by Michael Curtiz (Casablanca), photography by Ernest Haller (Gone With the Wind), and first class supporting roles by Zachary Scott, Ann Blyth, Eve Arden, Jack Carson and Bruce Bennett.

You might think drug smuggling is tough, or those barnstorming moonshine days during prohibition hair-raising. You might think people-smuggling a cut-throat trade, or border crossing a testing manner in which to make good on debts. Well, Jules Dassin and A. I. Bezzerides find something in Thieves' Highway that sounds quite prosaic on paper - buying and selling produce (namely - apples), which in this film can be cutthroat, and indeed deadly. When Nick Garcos (Richard Conte) returns from overseas there's direct evidence of this - his pop Yanko (Morris Carnovsky) has lost both of his legs after crashing his truck during a run where he had somehow been robbed of his money. Yanko, no longer able to drive, sold his truck - and has yet to receive full payment on that deal as well. Nick, his temper rising, goes to confront the new truck owner Ed Kinney (Millard Mitchell) - and Ed strikes up a deal with him, giving Nick the scoop on a crop of Golden Delicious apples they can make a killing on.

Throughout the middle portion of the film Nick has to battle so many elements of this profession's varied challenges that he might be wishing he were back fighting the war. He risks his life battling fatigue, constantly drifting to sleep at the wheel of his truck. He nearly dies replacing a blown tire when the truck sinks and crushes him. He frets over the condition of Ed's truck, and whether to follow him, or trust him and lead the way. He's accosted by rival truck drivers, eager to beat him to the punch. When he gets to the San Francisco markets, he has to contend with unscrupulous buyers - and there's one among them, Mike Figlia (Lee J. Cobb) that screwed over his pop. In fact, Figlia's gang slash his truck's tire to keep it there, then hires sultry lady Rica (Valentina Cortese) to lead him away and distract him so they can steal the apples. I never thought the apple trade could be this dangerous and thuggish. That's not all - Ed's brakes fail - spelling disaster for him, and even though Nick forces a deal, he's soon robbed and beaten by Figlia's goons.

From time to time I have cause to yell at the screen - it's not often, but I do. When Nick has close to $4000 in his pocket what does he do? He tells a crowded diner to shush the hell up when on the phone, and loudly shouts to his lady-love back East that he has that much money on him, then tells her where he'll be and where he's going. Why not wear a large placard saying "ROB ME" in bright lettering? Nick's young and inexperienced - he's either crashing or full of exuberance. He's great with Figlia, sticking up for himself about getting paid - but while he's very forthright, energetic and pleasingly fair to everyone, he's also reckless, erratic and not nearly careful enough. That's the thrill of watching a film like Thieves' Highway though - we bite our lip, and every time Nick seems to make a mistake we want to have a quick word in his ear. It's a very suspenseful film, even without drawing tension out - the stakes are so high, and Nick's future seems to hinge on this hard-fought deal.

It's a dog eat dog world out there - and you never know whether the next stranger you're dealing with is a fair and honest, decent person or a cheat and scoundrel. Capitalism means competition, and competition mean there will be cheats - so when you're at the coalface of capitalism that means a battle on multiple fronts. First there are your rivals - hoping to be faster than you, do a better deal than you, have a better product or be more reliable. Then there are your customers, trying to give you as little money as they have to - and some using every means they have to cheat, swindle and take advantage of every little weakness you have. At least, that's how you have to look at it. Go out thinking everyone is as fair as you, and pretty soon the wolves will have you. Thieves' Highway shows what it often takes - the hard work, risks, dangers and smarts needed. Every type of endeavor has it's shortcuts, cheats, crooked dealing and pitfalls - all needing to be dealt with firmly, and hopefully lawfully.

I kind of got the feeling that Figlia's sneaky method came to him by accident one night. One night a truck genuinely broke down outside his produce warehouse, and the driver went off and got drunk - whereupon a fed up Figlia just up and stole whatever it was on it before having it towed and washing his hands of the whole deal. I think it dawned on him then - why not incapacitate the odd truck, and get a trusty gal to distract the driver for $50? I mean, once the truck is towed he can claim that the goods disappeared after it left his vicinity. Some business people will use every dirty underhanded trick they can to get ahead, and Lee J. Cobb really plays the type well. It was great casting, getting him for that role. I think the performances all-round are pretty good in Thieves' Highway, and the casting spot on. It's a very well-written story and directed film as well - it's almost like a blend of neorealism and film noir, with a very original premise and setting.

One vision I take away from the film, never to be forgotten, is the hill covered in spilled apples (almost like the truck's cargo was it's lifeblood) which leads to Ed's burning old rustbucket. Driven beyond it's limitations to try and save money, much in the way Ed and Nick drive themselves past their limitations, it's groaning and squealing (nice sound work all-round) feels like it's cries of agony. That ancient truck said all that needed to be said about the plight of the little guy threaded into the overall tsunami of money and trade these guys are riding. Like a surfer, they constantly fret wiping out - financially and physically. That constant danger, after the film works so well at getting us on Nick's side, is what drives our apprehensions throughout, and why it had me thrilled much of the time. There is a slightly underdeveloped love triangle there, which just manages to work as well - but most of all this is a tense film noir classic, well written, directed and performed by it's principles. I'll never look at an apple as a pretty much worthless commodity again, but as always, I cheer on the little guy with a truck and a dream.

Out of the Past

I believe I gave this a 4.5/5 on the first watch and a 3.5/5 on the second watch. But really everything is there that makes this a really good movie. The highlights here is the superb dialogue and the great acting particularly from Mitchell and Greer. The set up to the movie is great, the first half is left without any flaws. While there are lulls in that second half, the ending brings it all back together and it really is quite a powerful noir.

Out of the Past


This film was among my favorites so far. It made use of the strategy of taking a simple plot and complicating it by changing the point of view or emphasis. This strategy was used by those who were making noir films in the 40's.
The film noir website claims that Mitchum was to strong a character to be cast as the lead in a film noir. That he did not represent a a weak male lead. I don't know if I agree with this. Mitchum's character lets himself be sucked back into the kind of life he was trying to escape. This might be considered a flaw or weakness to his character.

I have two left I'll try to finish this week

Siddon's really lagging, even worse than I did in the docs HoF..

I've had two of the most hectic weeks I've ever had in my life, but thankfully we're already moved. I'm gonna try and cram whatever I have left to see in the next few days, so brace yourselves!

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