THE FILE ON THELMA JORDAN

Robert Siodmak, 1950

Starring: Barbara Stanwyck, Wendell Corey, Paul Kelly

Assistant district attorney Cleve Marshall refuses to go home one night, because he’s tired of putting up with his controlling father-in-law, and stays at the office to get drunk. It’s there that he encounters Thelma Jordan, a woman trying to report a potential robbery of her wealthy aunt’s jewelry. She and Cleve soon begin an affair, though he realizes that her past is far murkier than it seems. One night she calls him in a panic – her aunt has been shot to death – and he comes to help her remove any evidence that may accidentally incriminate her. Cleve also winds up prosecuting in court, where he can further protect her, but he soon realizes that Thelma is not as innocent as she claims to be…

This final film noir from director Robert Siodmak is definitely underrated and shines mostly because of a stellar performance from Barbara Stanwyck – though let’s face it; she’s excellent in everything. There’s also a well-crafted script that builds slowly but steadily and makes up for a series of melodramatic moments by focusing on the moral gray areas in Cleve and Thelma, and their obvious attraction to one another. Unlike many other noir efforts, their attraction grows into love, not betrayal, which is The File on Thelma Jordan’s true source of anxiety and tension. In some ways, this is a quieter, less stylish, and more mature take on Double Indemnity. Similar themes are played out – a woman and a man decide to participate in murder for financial gain – but the elements are mixed around. While Double Indemnity is certainly the superior film, in many ways Cleve and Thelma are more complex, developed characters than the fatally sexy Phyllis Dietrichson and the good-hearted dupe, Walter Neff.

The underused Wendell Corey (Rear Window, Sorry, Wrong Number) is more aged and serious than Walter Neff. He’s not the typical noir protagonist – a cynical loner who drifts through life with no real attachments – he’s on the rise politically, thanks to his career as assistant district attorney, and has a complicated home life. He loves his wife, who clearly still desires him sexually, but strains under the yoke of her oppressive and controlling father. His affair with Thelma is intentional on her part – she does actually plan to commit a crime with her boyfriend – but their relationship blossoms into real love, which the film takes time to develop, making the events that follow far more believable. Thelma’s divided nature is expressed by Stanwyck, but is also underlined by Tony (Richard Rober), a hunky, good-for-nothing gambler who has an obvious (sexual) influence on Thelma and likely plans to double cross her when she has outlived her usefulness to him.

Their relationship is also flavored by a sense of the crushing weight of adult responsibility. Both Thelma and Cleve are stifled by their life choices. Cleve acts like he’s having a midlife crisis – he stays out late and gets drunk to avoid his wife and her father – and he treats his wife as an authority figure that he must rebel against. Any of his successes are soured by his father-in-law’s involvement or influence. Thelma is similarly controlled by Tony and the demands of her aunt. She rebels by sneaking out at night to meet Cleve and struggles to develop her own identity, which rests somewhere between Tony and her troubled past, the confining and mannerly lifestyle of her aunt, and the somewhat healthier, but doomed love she has with Cleve.

The File on Thelma Jordan isn’t a perfect film. There’s a slow first act that is dialogue heavy and overly sentimental, but if you can stick with it, it pays off. There are some memorable supporting performances from Stanley Ridges (To Be or Not to Be) as the defense attorney and Gertrude Hoffman (Caged) as Thelma’s demanding aunt. There’s also some lovely cinematography from George Barnes, though nothing is particularly above or beyond as film noir goes. The File on Thelma Jordan is enjoyable not because it hits the standard noir beats, but because it uses these in the background and crafts a well-written, well-acted story about complicated adult love birthed in the wake of desperation and crime.

Available on Blu-ray in an average, skimpy release from Olive Films, The File of Thelma Jordan is also available on Archive.org. I would recommend the latter, unless you are a rabid Stanwyck fan. I complain a lot about wishing more obscure horror and noir would be released on Blu-ray, but a barebones disc is not quite what I was referring to. They could have at least included a trailer and one or two special features about Siodmak or Stanwyck. Despite the shoddy release situation, it’s worth watching thanks to a marvelous performance from Stanwyck, who proves that she’s still got it relatively late in her career.

CRISS CROSS

Robert Siodmak, 1949
Starring: Burt Lancaster, Yvonne de Carlo, Dan Duryea

Steve Thompson returns home to L.A. and immediately gets involved with his treacherous ex-wife, though his protective mother and detective friend try to disuade him. Though Anna claims to still love him, she is really obsessed with money and runs off to marry a gangster, Slim Dundee, though she carries on an affair with Steve. To cover up the affair, Steve, an armored truck driver, organizes a heist with Slim. Though Steve and Anna plan to double cross Slim, things quickly become violent and complicated, with additional layers of betrayal.

Based on Don Tracy’s novel, Criss Cross is yet another film noir from underrated director Robert Siodmak. This is something of a follow up to his most famous noir, The Killers, and reunites Siodmak with its star, Burt Lancaster. In terms of plot, there are many similarities to The Killers and, because of this, Criss Cross is undeniably the inferior film. Both narratives are twisted and non-linear, told partly through flashback and voice over. A doomed romance is at the heart of both films, where a lovelorn man follows a beautiful, though treacherous woman towards his downfall. They engage in a heist, just so the man can be near the woman, though she is already in a committed relationship with a gangster. In the end, she predictably double crosses him, choosing money over love and, in turn, damning herself.

While Criss Cross lacks the constant, heavy sense of impending doom that made The Killers such a classic film, it is a more bitter and cynical film with a more developed sense of style. There are numerous lovely shots of historic downtown LA from cinematographer Franz Planer, and there’s yet another out-of-the-park score from Miklos Rosza. I may have just made a baseball reference, but I can’t be sure. The film’s crowning achievement is perhaps its ending, which packs a punch. Though Steve is badly injury and just barely escaped death, he runs to find Anna. She admits that she loves him, but despite this, is leaving with all the cash because his injuries will just slow her down. They are interrupted by Slim, who guns them down in jealous fury to the sound of approaching police sirens.

Unfortunately the bulk of the script is not equal to this apocalyptic ending. There are several tedious moments as neither of the leads are all that compelling. Lancaster is often great when he’s given a stronger male counterpart (as Kirk Douglas in I Walk Alone) or a more spirited female companion (as in Ava Gardner in The Killers), and, most importantly, when he’s given specific scenes and somewhat limited screen time. I can’t too much about Yvonne De Carlo (The Munsters, Brute Force), as I think the limitations are with the script and not her acting talent. She was simply given a watered down version of Ava Gardner’s character in The Killers – and no one can compete with Gardner in the sex appeal department.

                                                             

One actor who does stand out is Dan Duryea, who is excellent here, as always, and just as flashy as he was in Kiss of Death and Scarlet Street. He’s less cruel and demented than in those roles, primarily because he is barely given any screen time. This would have been a very different film if he had even two or three more major scenes. Keep your eyes peeled for a young Tony Curtis, who briefly appears as Yvonne’s dancing partner early in the film, and a memorable performance from Alan Napier (the Batman TV show) in a side role.

Criss Cross is available on DVD, though I can’t really recommend it due to its numerous similarities with Siodmak’s wonderful The Killers. Fans of film noir and Robert Siodmak will probably want to check this out regardless. It’s certainly not a bad film, merely one that suffers in comparison. Apparently neither Lancaster nor Siodmak wanted to make it and Siodmak did his utmost to change the script during preproduction. Lancaster was desperate to escape the role of romantically doomed lug that established his character, but he would be forced there a few more times during film noir’s reign. 

THE KILLERS (1946)

Robert Siodmak, 1946
Starring: Burt Lancaster, Ava Gardner, Edmond O'Brien

A man known as “the Swede,” Ole Andreson, is warned that two men are coming to kill him, but he simply accepts his death and is murdered. An insurance investigator, Jim Reardon, is set on the case, primarily to find the Swede's beneficiary, but he begins to unravel the man's story as he interviews his friends and coworkers. He learns that the Swede had a career as a boxer, which ended with an injury. He got caught up with a group of gangsters led by “Big Jim” Colfax, partly because of Colfax's girlfriend, the alluring Kitty. He's becomes so obsessed with her that he serves time for a minor crime so that she can avoid punishment, and when he gets out he's convinced to take part in a heist organized by Colfax. Predictably, everything goes wrong and someone has double-crossed the Swede, setting him up for his doom.

The Killers is undoubtedly Robert Siodmak's most famous noir and is the synthesis of a number of perfect elements. To begin with, the film is based on a story (of the same name) by Hemingway and the script was co-written by the great John Huston (The Maltese Falcon, The African Queen), though he remained uncredited due to a conflicting contract. This marks the debut performance of film noir regular Burt Lancaster (From Here to Eternity, Brute Force, I Walk Alone). Though Lancaster has an incredibly physical presence, he's not the most consistent or capable of actors. But he is perhaps at his best here, which his hulking, gloomy presence is not given the bulk of the running time, but he looms over it just the same.

Ava Gardner also had her breakthrough performance here as Kitty Collins. Though she had several bit parts and uncredited roles before this, The Killers was her first major film and launched her – almost overnight – to stardom. In many ways, she's the quintessential femme fatale and it's easy to see why the Swede and other men are so smitten for her that they will believe any deception. Gardner's stardom generally kept her out of future noir, but she's certainly one of the genre's top bad girls. There are some other solid supporting performances, such as Edmond O'Brien (White Heat, The Wild Bunch) as the investigator, Albert Dekker (Kiss Me Deadly) as Colfax, and Sam Levene (Crossfire) as a police officer and the Swede's friend. William Conrad (Body and Soul) and Charles McGraw (The Birds) basically steal the film as the pair of killers who occasionally engage in sarcastic humor.

The film's doom-laden opening is perhaps its most memorable scene. It sticks closely to Hemingway's story, then fleshes out the main narrative to create a mystery about why the Swede was killed and why he went so willingly to his death. The plot becomes incredibly intricate and involves red herrings, flashbacks, and an interweaving series of crimes, punishments, and retributions. The pace is quick and these disparate elements aren't too difficult to keep track of, but the remainder of the film never surpasses its opening. Like some of the best films noir – Double Indemnity and Sunset Boulevard – the protagonist is a man doomed, dead, or dying, which is both a compelling and difficult premise. The Swede remains a near mythic figure, a tragic scapegoat bound and chained by his unrequited love for an unfaithful and immoral woman.

The Killers is one of the most highly rated films noir and deserves to be seen by all fans of the genre and of crime cinema. Available on DVD from Criterion, The Killers comes highly recommended. In addition to solid direction from Siodmak, a number of fine performances, and a tight, compelling script, Miklos Rozsa's memorable score is also worth a mention. Part of it is used as the Dragnet theme song, so if you're from the Nick at Night generation, it might sound familiar. The film contain all the standard noir hits: a plot built around flashbacks, a protagonist doomed to die, a knock-out femme fatale, a detective (the insurance investigator), a heist, a double-cross, and more. If you're only going to see a handful of films in the genre, this should definitely be on your list.

PHANTOM LADY

Robert Siodmak, 1944

Starring: Ella Raines, Franchot Tone, Alan Curtis, Elisha Cook, Jr.

A man named Scott spends a lonely night out on the town after a fight with his wife. He meets a mysterious woman with an unusual hat who refuses to give him her name, but they have a few drinks together and go to see a show before parting ways. Unfortunately, Scott's wife has been murdered in his absence and, due to his lack of a solid alibi, he's the sole suspect. He is soon arrested, prosecuted, and is preparing for his execution. His secretary, Carol, is secretly in love with him and is determined to prove his innocence. She begins stalking the underworld bar and nightclub scene, and is determined to find some witness who knows about the phantom lady. She is helped by Burgess, a detective who thinks that Scott may be innocent after all, and Marlow, Scott's friend who has been out of town.

Phantom Lady was Robert Siodmak's first film noir and was released during the same year – 1944 – as some of the first genre heavy hitters, such as Double Indemnity and Laura. For whatever reason, The Phantomy Lady has been largely forgotten, though it is an excellent early example of the genre. Based on Cornell Woolrich's novel of the same name (under a pseudonum he regularly used, William Irish), Phantom Lady follows the same formula as much of Woolrich's more famous Black Series, in which one character (often a woman) is forced to descend into the underworld to either get vengeance for a loved one or to help exonerate a loved one who is wrongly accused. In early hardboiled fiction, Woolrich is somewhat unique in two instances: he wrote about serial killers or men who killed because of some psychosis, and he often has female protagonists or prominent female characters who were more than the sweet, innocent wife or femme fatale popular in film noir and hardboiled fiction.

Phantom Lady boasts both of these. Ella Raines (Brute Force, The Suspect) is perfect as Carol, a memorable, unusual, and almost outright strange heroine who doesn't have an equal an all of film noir (except for maybe Dementia, a Z-grade surrealist noir). Though she begins the film as just another meek woman in love, Scott's plight quickly prods her to action. He calls her “Kansas” and her journey does have some Wizard of Oz and fairytale aspects, albeit much darker. Her descent into the underworld becomes deeply disturbing. There's an early scene where she stalks a bartender – silently waiting and staring, night after night, driving the man into the grip of paranoia – and her desperate attempt to get information results in a tidbit of a clue (he was bribed to say he had not seen the phantom lady) and the man's death, when he accidentally jumps in traffic to get away from her.

In one of the film's most memorable sequences, she goes to the same show that Scott and the phantom lady attended. She catches the eye of an enthusiastic drummer (noir regular Elisha Cook, Jr.) and goes to an after-hours jazz club with him, one fueled by drugs, alcohol, and sexual frenzy. She hovers between paranoia and flirtatious dancing, resulting in a drum solo that is so clearly a stand-in for sexual frenzy that it's amazing the scene made it past the censors at all. I've already written about the somewhat obvious connection between Laura and David Lynch's Twin Peaks, but I couldn't help but think that Raines' Carol was an inspiration for Donna (played by Lara Flynn Boyle), another character on the show. Boyle is nearly identical to Raines, and both Carol and Donna exhibit a combination of romanticism and innocence, as well as an ability to access a deep sexuality when the need arises.

Despite the fact that Raines is clearly the star of the film, Franchot Tone (Mutiny on the Bounty) is given top billing. He is likable as Marlow, but unfortunately the character is somewhat overdone and derails the film's conclusion a bit. His character helps to make this something of a cross between noir and horror. Due to the introduction of a serial killer character, this would make a wonderful double feature with my favorite Woolrich adaptation, The Leopard Man.

There are some nice supporting performances, particularly Alan Curtis (High Sierra) as the Everyman wrongly accused, Scott. Thomas Gomez (Key Largo, Force of Evil) puts in a nice turn as Inspector Burgess, and Elisha Cook, Jr. is great as the sex-crazed, drugged-out drummer. But the most important side role is obviously from Fay Helm (Dark Victory, The Wolf Man) as the titular phantom lady. Her romantic-related insanity, a meltdown after her fiancé's death, enhances the film's gloomy, melancholic air.

Phantom Lady is not yet available on DVD, but there's much about it to like. Plot holes and non-sequitors are made up for with heaping amounts of German expressionist-fueled atmosphere and some great moments of style. There is a mix of B-movie sensibility, a sense of poetic realism, and the film really captures Woolrich's themes that the world is fundamentally hostile and illogical. The nighttime, rainy, urban setting with glistening streets and seedy bars are unforgettable, and if you're remotely interested in noir, this is a must-see.

THE DARK MIRROR

Robert Siodmak, 1946

Starring: Olivia de Havilland, Lew Ayres, Thomas Mitchell

A doctor is murdered and the main suspect is his girlfriend. When Lt. Stevenson goes to question her, he learns that it is actually two girls, identical twins – Terry and Ruth Collins – and that they have an airtight alibi because of it. He knows one of them is guilty, but doesn't have any evidence. He receives some assistance from a psychiatrist, Dr. Elliott, who convinces the girls to undergo a few weeks of testing. He falls in love with Ruth and comes to believe that Terry is psychopathic and dangerous and learns that her trigger is jealousy. He's realizes that he and Terry are both in danger, but can he prove which twin is which?

With a compelling script from Nunnally Johnson (The Three Faces of Eve) and competent, stylish direction from Robert Siodmak, The Dark Mirror is an underrated effort that waves between mystery, noir, and melodrama. Similar to other film noir from the period, like Otto Preminger's Whirlpool (1949), the film includes several popular themes, such as a romance where a man falls in love with a troubled woman and endeavors to save her, and some very heavy-handed instances of psychiatry and Freudianism. It also fits in with “women’s pictures” like Mildred Pierce, The Reckless Moment, The Letter, and many others. One of the things that sets The Dark Mirror apart is an excellent, subtle performance from Olivia de Havilland (The Died with Their Boots On, Gone with the Wind).

The murder mystery is the least interesting thing about the film. It's obviously that one of the twins must have killed the doctor, but De Havilland is able to rise above this fairly trite plot device with the subtle differences she invests in Ruth and Terry. The spectacle of twin-ness, and even more so, of femininity, becomes the film's centerpiece. Though it is suggested that the concept of twin-ship is unnatural, it puts more of an emphasis on the fact that the twins are women and their femininity is where the true perversion lies. The murder and violence is based on the inherent jealousy and possessiveness of women, which is bleakly misogynistic, but still makes for an interesting look at female mental illness. Good and bad siblings feature in some of Siodmak’s other films, including Son of Dracula and The Spiral Staircase, where psychopathy also lurks behind an attractive façade.

De Havilland apparently had a real life feud with her sister, actress Joan Fontaine, and she brings every ounce of that to the screen. There's a palpable lesbian undercurrent, as it is clear that Terry becomes homicidally jealous every time a man prefers Ruth. She is determined to keep Ruth all to herself, and to be viewed as the smarter, stronger, and more beautiful twin. To enhance this battle between identities, Siodmak borrows liberally from German expressionism, which was reliant upon doubles, mirrors, and reflections. Perhaps the film's finest moment is that it ends on an eerie, uncomfortable note, suggesting that it's unclear which twin remains to live out a happy, romantic life with Dr. Elliott.

In addition to De Havilland, there are some solid supporting performances. Thomas Mitchell (It's a Wonderful Life) is memorable as the stalwart detective who doesn't fall for the twin's ruse for a moment and is convinced that one of them is a dangerous killer. Lew Ayres (All Quiet on the Western Front) is a little disappointing as the somewhat creepy, inappropriate doctor. This marked Ayres shaky return to cinema and he was still iffy in the eyes of fans. Perhaps ironically, his performance in All Quiet on the Western Front made him staunchly anti-war. He declared himself a conscientious objector, to the horror of cinema-going Americans. For a few years, he was blacklisted, despite the fact that he served as a medic in the South Pacific.

The Dark Mirror may not be a film noir classic, but it is well worth seeing thanks to De Havilland and Siodmak. Though it is from the '40s, it's aged very well, probably because the concept of twins as the source of a mystery is a concept that hasn't grown old. The film is available on Blu-ray, perhaps surprisingly, and fans of Dead Ringers and especially Sisters will want to check this out – Sisters in particular feels like a direct rip off of The Dark Mirror. A double feature of the two would probably yield some fascinating results.

THE SUSPECT (1944)

Robert Siodmak, 1944

Starring: Charles Laughton, Ella Raines, Dean Harens

Philip, a shopkeeper, is stuck in an unhappy marriage to a miserable woman. His life takes a turn for the better when he meets Mary, a young typist looking for employment. They quickly strike up a friendship, which quickly deepens into something more. Ashamed that he has let it carry on so long, Philip breaks things off with Mary and asks his wife for a divorce. She cruelly refuses and he resigns himself to improving their marriage. But she’s determined to get revenge, to ruin both Philip and Mary, even though their relationship remains platonic. Mary falls to her death and it is unclear whether this was an accident or Philip’s doing. He is hounded by a local police inspector, but marries Mary and goes on to have a very happy life – that is, until his drunken, wife-beating neighbor gets wind of the investigation and decides to blackmail Philip.

Based on a novel by James Ronald, The Suspect is one of the early film noir efforts from virtuoso director Robert Siodmak. It’s one of the rare noir works set in period London and, while watching it, I wondered if it can fairly be called noir rather than just a regular suspense film. It is a not a run of the mill thriller in the sense that the script has little excitement, but heaps of ambiguity. Did Philip kill his wife? The film hints that he did, but never states it outright. It also is left completely open-ended as to whether or not he will turn himself in for the crime, though he is pictured walking serenely through the streets of London when he is supposed to be sailing to Canada.

Philip is a fascinating character, made more so by the wonderful Charles Laughton. His magnificent performance is what makes this film so worth watching. Philip is a quiet, lonely man. At first glance, he seems to be like Edward G. Robinson’s character in Scarlet Street, a desperate man in an unhappy marriage who befriends a beautiful young woman going through some hard luck. But Philip is not the same type of pushover. His wife is horrible (I wanted her killed within 4 minutes and 30 seconds) and nagging, but he owns his own business and puts his foot down about things like staying late at work and having a separate bedroom. Unlike most noir protagonists, he is neither gripped by guilt or a sense of doomed fate. By the film’s ending, there is the feeling that both (potential) murders are justified and Philip deserves to lead a long, happy life, which is arguably more subversive than most noir.

The Suspect is also noir-like in the sense that many of the film’s relationships are based on anger, manipulation, selfishness, loneliness, and despair. Philip and his wife openly dislike one and another, and while Philip tries to follow a path that will allow them to seek separate happiness, his wife is bitter and angry, determined to hurt him in as many ways as possible. This relationship is paralleled in that of their neighbors: the wife is kind and good-hearted, while her husband (an excellently cast Henry Daniell) is a wife-beating alcoholic who steals what little remains of her inheritance. Like Philip’s wife, he is an all-around nasty person who richly deserves death.

While it’s a bit of a stretch to believe that Ella Raines (Phantom Lady) would marry Charles Laughton, the film makes it believable through their performances and a solid script. Though she may be young and beautiful, it’s suggested that Mary is desperate, dejected, and thoroughly down on her luck. Another sort of film noir would follow her downward spiral into crime, debauchery, or prostitution. Instead, she is given the rare gift of sublime happiness, presumably because she follows her heart, rather than convention. It helps that there’s a scene where she explains her attraction to him. She first makes up an imaginary lover that her friends drool over, then tells the truth that he is imperfect, but incredibly kind-hearted and lonely, just like herself.

The Suspect is perhaps a more minor effort, but anyone who remotely enjoys murder-themed thrillers, suspense-films about marital discord (of which there were many in the ‘40s and ‘50s), or Charles Laughton will find it worth watching. Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem to be available on DVD, though you can find it streaming for free on Archive.org.