John
Farrow, 1948
Starring:
Edward G. Robinson, Gail Russell, John Lund
John
Triton, a fake magician/fortune teller at a nightclub, soon comes to discover
that he actually does have psychic powers. This brings him nothing but grief,
as he soon has a vision about his beloved girlfriend’s death. He flees to live
in solitude and eventually his girlfriend and best friend – who has struck it
rich, thanks to Triton’s advice – marry and have a child. As Triton predicted,
she dies in childbirth. Several years in the future, Triton moves to San
Francisco to be close to them and has a vision that his friend will die in a
plane crash, which comes to pass though – for the first time – he actively
tries to prevent it. He realizes that his friend’s young, beautiful daughter is
also in danger and strives to save her, though no one will believe him.
Noir
regular Edward G. Robinson (The Red
House, Double Indemnity, Scarlet Street) gives one of his best performances
here as John Triton, a pleasant, well-meaning little man who can’t escape the
prophecies of doom that haunt him. Triton is one of noir’s most desperate and
pathetic figures, which is saying a lot considering that Robinson made a career
out of playing those roles. Triton is stuck between visions of the past,
present, and future, and is forced to watch those he loves die. What makes him
somewhat unsympathetic – and why he must atone for past behavior – is the fact
that he never tries to save his girlfriend, or, presumably, anyone before Jean.
As with other noir protagonists, his inaction is what ultimately leads to his misery
and final downfall, though he bravely faces his fate unflinchingly.
Robinson
is supported by a few fine performances, namely William Demarest (Sullivan’s Travels, The Lady Eve) as a
sarcastic Lieutenant who is deeply skeptical of his powers, but is committed to
keeping Jean from harm. The use of humor will endear this to those who find
conventional noir too serious or dour and there are some truly funny moments,
mostly surrounding the Lieutenant and his band of police officers (“When would
I have shot a lion?”). Gail Russell (Moonrise,
Wake of the Red Witch) is ethereally lovely as Jean and looks convincingly damaged.
Her suicide attempt at the film’s opening is perhaps the most moving, powerful
sequence with some fittingly eerie cinematography from John F. Seitz (Double Indemnity). Seitz and composer Victory
Young had previously worked with director John Farrow on his noir The Big
Clock and return here for equally pleasing music and visuals. Young’s
theme, “Night Has a Thousand Eyes,” actually became a popular jazz standard,
covered by everyone from John Coltrane to Bobby Dee.
Night Has a Thousand
Eyes is
unusual in film noir in the sense that it flirts with the supernatural. While
there are a few other films in this loose subgenre, including the excellent Nightmare
Alley, Night Has a Thousand Eyes’ has a protagonist who is an actual
psychic. The film fortunately does not attempt to explain his gift/curse, but
uses it within part of a larger universe. Jean’s terror is described as coming
from the very stars themselves, as if the world itself is calling for her
death. This feels a touch Lovecraftian to me (and probably will to other horror
fans) and though this concept of pre-determined doom is used throughout film
noir, this particular element is unique.
Based
on Cornell Woolrich’s novel of the same name, Woolrich is an important figure.
He deserves a much more popular contemporary readership, though many of his
books are out of print. Cornell was incredibly prolific, though I’ve been
unable to find a complete bibliography online. This is likely due to the fact
that he often wrote under pseudonyms, generally as either William Irish or
George Hopley. While Woolrich’s early novels are basically Fitzgerald worship,
he quickly turned to detective fiction and, in just a few years, churned out the
influential Black Series, including The
Bride Wore Black, The Black Curtain, The Black Alibi, The Black Angel, The
Black Path of Fear, and Rendezvous in
Black. But as I said, he was incredibly productive and this series is
simply his most famous. He wrote dozens of well-regarded short stories, which
are collected in various volumes, and as William Irish, he wrote Phantom Lady, Deadline at Dawn, Waltz into
Darkness, and I Married a Dead Man.
He
remains the pulp/detective author with the most number of film adaptations: The Leopard Man (1943) was based on Black Alibi, Phantom Lady (1944), Rear
Window (1954) based on the story “It Had to be Murder,” The Bride Wore Black, Mississippi Mermaid (1969) based on Waltz into Darkness, and Seven Blood-Stained Orchids (1972) based
on Rendezvous in Black, among many
more.
Like
other pulp authors, Woolrich had a difficult, yet fascinating life. Though he
was briefly married, he was gay and spent most of his adult life living with
his mother in New York. He suffered from alcoholism and various physical
plights that ultimately claimed his life, much of which he spent in isolation. I
would love to see a revival of his works, including reprints and more robust
biography (the volume that currently exists is more of a summary of his
numerous works than an actual biography). If you are remotely interested in
pulp fiction, the Black Series comes highly recommended.
Night Has a Thousand
Eyes is
available
on DVD and comes highly recommended. It is certainly one of the more poetic,
stranger noir efforts and is one of the few to touch upon the supernatural.
Though there are elements of humor and some conventional detective-story
moments, it’s a stand-out film that fans of horror and noir should enjoy.
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