Asides

Some observations on the happy end problem in Film Noir

By July 29, 2010No Comments

And since I’ll be begin­ning with Gilda, I ought to state right off the bat that I’m using a very lib­er­al defin­i­tion of “Film Noir” here…

GIlda ending 

The “stinkers/let’s go home, Johnny” finale of Gilda deserves, of course, to be enshrined as the ulti­mate in illo­gic­al, non­sensic­al, and worst of all, emo­tion­ally uncon­vin­cing wrap-ups not just in the his­tory of the Hollywood stu­dio film but the his­tory of film any­where at any­time, includ­ing 1970s Turkey, just to con­coct a ran­dom for-instance. It’s monu­ment­al. But is it typ­ic­al? It’s an end­ing some cinephiles like to cite as a prime example of Hollywood nar­rat­ive double-dealing of the time and the Production Code. And yet…

Past 

Out of the Past, made a mere year later, in the same town, and under the restraints of the same Production Code, lives up to the inex­or­able tragedy it, like Gilda, was always headed for. And also does so without suc­cumb­ing to nihil­ism, or make its final and genu­inely tor­tured note of…well, let’s not call it “uplift,” but rather “comfort”—resonate beau­ti­fully, a little quaveringly. 

The dif­fer­ence? How about the dif­fer­ences? We auteur­ists, you might think, would be reflex­ively inclined to blame/credit the dir­ect­or, and it is true that we tend to hold Out of the Past’s Jacques Tourneur in high­er esteem than we do Gilda’s Charles Vidor (although deep schol­ars will be quick to tell you that Vidor was no one to sneeze at). But I think here the split can really be put down to stu­dio sens­ib­il­ity. The RKO Picture’s head—in both the real and the meta­phor­ic­al sense—was still some­thing wholly oth­er than the Columbia Pictures head. Harry Cohn, to whose ass the world might have been wired, would nev­er in a mil­lion years, erm, sat still for a GIlda in which Glenn Ford and Rita Hayworth did­n’t wind up alive, and togeth­er, and happy…and also hav­ing learned their les­sons to stop being such stinkers, and to go back to being the crazy lov­able American kids they always were, damn it!

RKO, of course, would exper­i­ence its own change in sens­ib­il­ity in 1948, when Howard Hughes took it over. 

Columbia’s Cohn, who kept work­ing until a heart attack killed him in 1958, expressed an affec­tion for the “lousy little B pic­tures” that were Columbia’s stock-in-trade when he was­n’t in the grip of whatever ambi­tion promp­ted him to give the nod to a Lost Horizon or an All The King’s Men, might have insisted on let­ting Brian Keith and Ginger Rogers stay alive, and togeth­er, and happy, at the end of Phil Karlson’s 1955 Tight Spot. But he let well enough alone, and the pic­ture’s real ending—a shat­ter­ingly sad por­trait of betray­al on Edward G. Robinson’s face after the line stat­ing that the bath­room win­dow had been unlocked from the inside—occurs suf­fi­ciently close to the actu­al final cred­it that it pretty much thun­ders over whatever tri­umphal­ism comes after it. 

Spot 

And some­times we, as hard-boiled as we’d like to believe we are, really want that happy end­ing, some­times the more improb­able the bet­ter. Karlson’s 1957 The Brothers Rico is based on a tale by things-ending-badly-maestro Georges SImenon, so one might expect its maze of double-crosses to lead to a bad end for straightened-out-gangster Richard Conte. One might argue that everything in the mor­al equa­tion of the nar­rat­ive calls for him to not get what he wants. One hes­it­ates to provide spoil­ers, so I won’t go into detail—the film is a splen­did part of the splen­did recent Columbia Pictures Film Noir Classics II box—but here is a shot from the pic­ture’s finale. (The female play­er is Dianne Foster.)

Rico 

Cop-out, or moment of res­pite in a harsh world? You tell me. I felt it was wholly…well, deserved. And as we all know…

No Comments

  • Interesting post, Glenn! I taught a film noir class this spring, and my stu­dents – like most every­one who sees GILDA, I ima­gine – were com­pletely flum­moxed by the end­ing. I think one of them even used the same phrase you do above: “cop-out.” Apparently, it was­n’t Harry Cohn but the film’s pro­du­cer, Virginia Van Upp (second in com­mand to Cohn) who insisted on an upbeat end­ing. Do you know if the film was hav­ing trouble passing the censors?

  • The trouble with Americans is that we all want a tragedy with a happy end­ing.” ‑Hal Hartley, SURVIVING DESIRE
    In a lot of Hollywood movies, the “happy end­ings” can be so out of left field that they end up being far bleak­er, as if the movie were say­ing “There is no pos­sible believ­able way in which this can work out, and you idi­ots still want to walk out with a smile on your face because you can­’t handle the hor­ror.” This has always seemed espe­cially true of the 50s, where the con­flict between the still-traumatized sens­ib­il­it­ies of a gen­er­a­tion of war vets was squeezed through the man­dat­ory smiles of the McCarthy era. It always makes me think of the (delib­er­ately?) unsat­is­fy­ing and bizarre end of Shakespeare’s Measure For Measure, which is so arbit­rary and depend­ent on the whims of the power­ful that it achieves a kind of tragic-absurdist grim chuckle.

  • D Cairns says:

    Preston Sturges’s happy end­ings – The Miracle of Morgan’s Creek in par­tic­u­lar – always make me think of The Last Laugh, and Kurt Vonnegut’s reli­gion of reas­sur­ing lies.
    Gilda is so insane and seems set to deny deny deny all its own most inter­est­ing ideas – not­able a gay sub­text which could take your eye out – that the end­ing strikes me as wholly in keep­ing with the over­all approach: cram in sub­vers­ive mater­i­al and then jam a lid on top and pre­tend noth­ing’s hap­pen­ing. This schiz­oid approach may have some­thing to do with Van Upp being both co-writer and pro­du­cer. Her oth­er cred­its, not­ably Swing High Swing Low, sug­gest a really inter­est­ing sensibility.
    Quibbles depart­ment: Vidor, Ford and Hayworth also made Carmen at Columbia, in which at least one of the lov­ers ends up dead, and neither of them end up together.

  • The Siren says:

    Such a ter­rif­ic piece, a fab­ulous palate-cleanser.
    Virginia Van Upp had also writ­ten Cover Girl, so you would­n’t neces­sar­ily peg her as someone with a noir sens­ib­il­ity. Van Upp did have a sense of what Rita Hayworth could and could not do as an act­ress, how­ever. While I agree with our host that the fadeout deserves its place in the great annals of Hollywood “WTF” end­ings, I also agree with Otto Friedrich that the insec­ure and fun­da­ment­ally whole­some Hayworth had a hard time por­tray­ing promis­cu­ity when she was straight-up act­ing (although when she was dan­cing, she was sen­su­al­ity to the infin­ite power). They even cleaned up Salome for Hayworth–she may do the dance of the sev­en veils, all of which stayed firmly attached to her, but by the end she’s con­ver­ted to Christianity.
    Friedrich: “Miss Van Upp provided the rather dif­fid­ent Miss Hayworth with the fake per­son­al­ity of a wan­ton. If the cen­sors pre­ferred that her wan­ton­ness be shown to be false, that was really quite reas­on­able, since Miss Hayworth’s labor­i­ous efforts to mim­ic wan­ton­ness depended heav­ily on the audi­ence’s imagination.”
    I think David also makes an excel­lent point, that Gilda’s feb­rile S&M atmo­sphere makes all sorts of end­ings pos­sible, if not plausible.
    Like just about every­one else, the end­ing of LA Confidential made me groan, but you could see it as firmly in this noir tra­di­tion of left-field happy end­ings. I am also per­versely fond of the end­ing of The Postman Always Rings Twice, in which John Garfield gets a speech jus­ti­fy­ing the fact that state is killing him for the WRONG MURDER, and so good is Garfield that you can almost kinda sorta buy it. It does­n’t qual­i­fy as happy, but it’s my per­son­al choice for the high-water mark of the Breen Office’s Insistence That Society Is Always Right.
    I also wanted to bring up, for the sake of argu­ment, that an unhappy end­ing can feel unearned, too.

  • Just watched Gilda yes­ter­day for the first time in years, and in its defense, I don’t see how else it could have ended, though I would have pre­ferred Joseph Calleia giv­ing them an hour to get out of town or some such. Because it isn’t really noir but a romantic melo­drama with noir touches, we per­haps should­n’t expect it to end like Out of the Past. It keeps dan­cing toward a cyn­ic­al real­ism only to dance away at the last moment. Meanwhile, has no schol­ar yet writ­ten “The Other Woman: Homoerotic Tensions in Gilda”?

  • Chris O. says:

    I’m some­what indif­fer­ent to the end­ing of PICKUP ON SOUTH STREET, though I lean towards “pat,” as much as I like the film over­all. I know Fuller wanted to end FORTY GUNS dif­fer­ently, but did he ori­gin­ally envi­sion a dark­er end for PICKUP as well?

  • bill says:

    This top­ic has actu­ally been much on my mind recently. While the Siren is cor­rect, that unhappy end­ings can abso­lutely feel unearned, I think in film noir the reverse is more often the case, and it’s hard to think of a film noir – of the grim sort, more than the pro­ced­ur­al sort – that does­n’t have a happy, or some­what upbeat end­ing which does­n’t feel tacked on (this obvi­ously excludes those noirs like ANGEL FACE and etc. that have no such ending).
    The first time I saw NIGHTMARE ALLEY, when Stan Carlisle said “Brother, I was born for it”, I thought “Oh, please end now. Just end now!” And then it did­n’t. Obviously, NIGHTMARE ALLEY’s coda is nowhere near as egre­gious as GILDA’s, but it’s still a bit of a let-down, because they had pre­fec­tion right there, and the stu­dio could­n’t allow it (or so I under­stand). But even so, it’s a mag­ni­fi­cent film.
    TYRONE POWER.

  • Yes, “Brother, I was born for it” is the line I wish “Nightmare Alley” had ended with. There’s actu­ally prob­ably an idea for a post here – movies that should have ended early.
    For example, I could have done without the usu­al tough epi­taphs Warners gen­er­ally appen­ded to their gang­ster films. End “White Heat,” please, with “Top of the world, ma!” Do NOT go back to Edmond O’Brien.
    Of course, some­times when I’m in a per­verse mood, I even shut off “Meet John Doe” right BEFORE Barbara Stanwyck joins Cooper on that rooftop.
    Anyway, lovely post Glenn. If you want to check out anoth­er odd noir “happy end­ing,” look at “Human Desire” on that same Columbia boxed set, also with Ford escap­ing rel­at­ively unscathed. (Relative, at least, to poor Gloria Grahame…)

  • The Siren says:

    Stephen, I am mus­ing here on the idea that I can quickly come up with a lot more women’s pic­tures with bit­ter­sweet, sad or out­right tra­gic end­ings (Letter from an Unknown Woman, The Old Maid, Portrait of Jennie, Back Street, Stella Dallas, The House on 56th Street, even an epic like GWTW) than I can film noir. Romance did not neces­sar­ily require a neat, sweet fadeout, but crime often did. Odd. Interesting.

  • Excellent point, Siren. In fact, I’ve always felt a tra­gic end­ing – or, at least, bit­ter­sweet, Now-Voyagerish one – makes for the best romances. What did Dorothy Parker write? “Lips that taste of tears, they say/Are the best for kissing…”

  • Tom Russell says:

    There’s actu­ally prob­ably an idea for a post here – movies that should have ended early.”
    I always turn off Donner’s SUPERMAN just after Superman’s flight/date with Lois. That is, with about an hour of grat­ingly campy Hackman scenery-chewing and Miss-Tessmacher-!-ing left. The film works best without a vil­lain, I think– as an ori­gin story, an enter­tain­ment, a work of American icon­o­graphy. For me, that first 90 minutes or so is really a per­fect super­hero film.

  • I like that idea, Tom. The far­cic­al Lex Luthor stuff always ruined that movie for me.
    Of course, there’s also the pos­sib­il­ity of tak­ing these things too far. A former friend of mine, when in a black Christmas mood, would always switch off the annu­al broad­cast of “It’s a Wonderful Life” as soon as Jimmy Stewart reached the bridge.
    “That’s it, he jumps, pretty sad. Oh well, at least his fam­ily gets that insur­ance money…”

  • Owain Wilson says:

    Filmmakers who use an unne­ces­sar­ily tra­gic end­ing under the mis­guided belief that it makes their film more ‘dra­mat­ic’ always dis­ap­point me. Gladiator, for example. He should have walked off into the sun­set vic­tori­ous but heart­broken and com­pletely alone. Much more dra­mat­ic. Not that I even liked Gladiator, mind you, but still.
    As for Superman, I too always thought they should have dropped the nuc­le­ar mis­sile story from the last hour and jumped straight into Superman II. So you’d have the three supervil­lains from Krypton turn­ing up halfway through, team­ing up with Lex Luthor, and giv­ing us the most wildly enter­tain­ing super­hero film we could ever hope to see. Superman and Superman II are wildly enter­tain­ing by them­selves, though, I must say.

  • Tom Russell says:

    Stephen– Ouch, too far indeed!
    That movie is bleak enough– and I mean bleak in the deep­est and best sense pos­sible, it’s one of my favour­ite Capras– that without the fantasy angle, it would be nearly unbear­able for me. I think the film’s “happy” end­ing– happy in that Stewart does­n’t die and does­n’t go to jail, yet not “tacked-on stu­dio happy” because he remains in his social place with all his dreams deferred and the true vil­lain still unpun­ished– is in this case earned by the misery that pre­ludes it.

  • Good point, Tom.
    I know that movie wore out its wel­come with many people, thanks to those end­less public-domain screen­ings. But I always thought it was full of sur­pris­ing moments.
    Like the erot­ic reac­tion to Gloria Grahame’s stroll across the street. (“I gotta go home, see what the wife’s doing.”) Or the very early use of the freeze frame, in the lug­gage shop (“I want a BIG one.”)
    The one that still shocks me, though, is Stewart’s “Why did we have to have all these KIDS?” to his wife. Pretty bleak thing to hear com­ing out of any movie dad’s mouth – not only for those times but for any times.

  • Forgot all about the worst noir end­ing: Woman in the Window.

  • Tom Russell says:

    Stephen– Agreed on all counts. I was lucky to come to the film after it was “res­cued” from the pub­lic domain, mean­ing that famili­ar­ity nev­er had the chance to breed contempt.
    And how about that love/kissing scene between Stewart and Reed, where his anger turns into ten­der­ness, and there’s all this rage and frus­tra­tion about his life going into that dynam­ite of a kiss: pas­sion­ate, emotionally-charged, com­plex stuff, pos­it­ively smoldering.

  • Griff says:

    Brother, I was born for it?”
    No, it’s “Mister, I was made for it.”

  • bill says:

    I do apologize.

  • Tom Russell says:

    Have to admit, com­pletely out of con­text, I kinda like the consonance/rhythm of Bill’s ver­sion better.

  • bill says:

    According to the inter­net, Griff and I are both right. Various sources quote the line as: “Mister, I was born for it.”

  • LexG says:

    You know what’s STUPID AS FUCK is in Double Indemnity when Fred MacMurray GOES BOWLING. RIGHT THERE is why OLD MOVIES SUCK, because NO ONE would put that dork-ass shit in a new movie. HE GOES BOWLING. It is the most ridicu­lous, absurd­ist shot in the entirety of cinema, and totally ruins the movie, so AGAINST ALL ODDS POWER… BODY HEAT POWER… CHINATOWN POWER… CHINA MOON POWER.
    Can you ima­gine in the middle of THE DARK KNIGHT, Bruce Wayne was like YEAH THIS IS ALL INTERESTING, BUT I DECIDED TO GO BOWLING. Laughable.
    They did­n’t have QC down yet back then.

  • haice says:

    Two glor­i­ously trumped up happy end­ings to seedy preceedings:
    Brecht’s THREE PENNY OPERA and Lynch’s BLUE VELVET.

  • Oliver C says:

    Scenes of bowl­ing nev­er did ‘The Big Lebowski’ any harm. Are you ready to be fucked, LexG?

  • marshlands says:

    Not a noir, but any­one else feel this way about the end of BIGGER THAN LIFE? I mean, get real with that shit, the whole fam­ily hug­ging on the hos­pit­al bed? FAKE.

  • llj says:

    In Bigger Than Life it actu­ally isn’t so happy. Nobody in the film ever says that things will go hap­pily ever after for the fam­ily. He’s still going to be on med­ic­a­tion, and the threat of oth­er side effects or relapses is still there. They are just hav­ing a happy moment–but their future togeth­er as a “happy 1950s American fam­ily) is far from assuredly rosy.

  • Oliver C says:

    Thing is, the ori­gin­al, fact-based med­ic­al art­icle that ‘Bigger Than Life’ was adap­ted from suc­ceeded in under­min­ing 50s com­pla­cency without resort­ing to Ray’s proto-‘Shining’ melt­down and (inten­tion­ally?) uncon­vin­cing reconciliation.

  • Kiss Me, Son of God says:

    On the top­ic of end­ings, I have to say that while I was gen­er­ally apathet­ic toward “Inception,” I abso­lutely adored the final shot. It’s the only moment of true visu­al clev­erness in a film that largely feels like a studio-bland block­buster with more tech­nobabble than usual.

  • Badass Richard Conte says:

    Well…
    You could always mix the end­ing like in The Asphalt Jungle where Sterling Hayden dies – but he dies just as he’s got­ten to the horse farm…
    Though I’m still par­tial for com­plete nihil­ism like at the end of Night and the City, where Widmark is killed and dumped in the river…

  • Jeff McMahon says:

    How many people read the art­icle that Bigger Than Life was based on? Not as many as have seen the film, I’d bet.

  • Oliver C says:

    Criterion cer­tainly missed an oppor­tun­ity to reprint the art­icle – which details, quite shock­ingly, how doc­tors essen­tially treated the hus­band like some human guinea pig, sub­ject­ing him to ever-increasing doses of cortisone – as a DVD/Blu-ray bonus.

  • You know what’s STUPID AS FUCK is in Double Indemnity when Fred MacMurray GOES BOWLING.”
    – LOL. That’s all, just LOL. =)

  • LexG says:

    Cool, I have a new fan, plus she’s a chick
    YEP YEP.

  • hisnewreasons says:

    I believe I’m going to bring the low­brow to this, but I would like to cite Frank Darabont’s adapt­a­tion of “The Mist” as an example of a mis­con­ceived ‘down­beat’ end­ing. Because, in a weird way, it’s really an upbeat, reas­sur­ing end. Won’t say why I think that. Spoilers and all that. I sus­pect that I was the only one here lazy enough of mind to see “The Mist.”
    Going fur­ther off the ranch here I would like to men­tion “The Tale of One Bad Rat” as an example of a ‘con­trived happy end­ing’ which works. It relies on a chance meet­ing, but it opens the way for some gor­geous art­work and deserved hap­pi­ness for its lead character.

  • Kiss Me, Son of God says:

    @hisnewreasons, I saw The Mist, and enjoyed it, and also had my doubts about the severely down­beat end­ing — but I can­’t fig­ure out what you mean when you say it’s really an upbeat, reas­sur­ing one. Care to elab­or­ate under the cloak of a spoil­er warning?

  • Jeff McMahon says:

    I agree with ‘Hisnewreasons’ and I’ll give an explanation:
    SPOILER ALERT
    It’s a grim end­ing for Thomas Jane’s char­ac­ter – if only he could have hung on to hope for anoth­er five minutes! But for the plan­et as a whole, it’s a happy end­ing – the Mist is dis­sip­at­ing, the mon­sters are being driv­en away, etc. All’s right with the world, or at least it will be after some simple mopping-up. The end­ing of King’s ori­gin­al story was incon­clus­ive, and there­fore more haunting.

  • bill says:

    I love King’s ori­gin­al story, but his end­ing is lazy. It’s not truly incon­clus­ive; it’s inconclusive-but-don’t-worry-they’ll-be-fine. They hear that maybe some­thing good’s going on in Connecticut, so they go there. Darabont’s end­ing has real balls, and I don’t believe the fact that it’s both grim, on a per­son­al level, and upbeat in a broad­er sense, was an acci­dent. It’s entirely in keep­ing with the film’s themes.

  • James says:

    Bill -
    (SPOILER WARNING)
    David Drayton thinks he *may* have heard one word break­ing through the con­stant stat­ic over the radio waves, from a spot on the dial that belongs to a CT sta­tion. It’s very incon­clus­ive, and everything’s def­in­itely not fine, since Drayton’s group are fol­low­ing his whim on the pos­sib­il­ity he *might* have heard a human voice for one second. He even isn’t sure of what he heard, but he presses on, because, well, it’s a reas­on to keep on keep­ing on (as under­lined by the spe­cif­ic word he thought he heard – the last line of the story).
    It’s still very bleak, and not at all reas­sur­ing (and I prefer it to the film’s ending).

  • The Derelict says:

    Re: HUMAN DESIRE’s “happy end­ing,” (well, actu­ally, Glenn Ford’s happy end­ing), I have a dif­fer­ent take on it:
    Glenn Ford’s char­ac­ter is the vil­lain. He escapes any sort of pun­ish­ment and gets to be with the “good” woman in the end, while poor Gloria Grahame must suf­fer her hideous fate alone. That smile on his face while he drives the train strikes me as almost too self-satisfied, as if he knows what’s hap­pen­ing to Grahame in the train com­part­ment. I don’t feel in the least bit happy for Ford’s char­ac­ter in the end and I think that’s what Lang intended.
    Great top­ic, btw, Glenn.

  • jbryant says:

    his­ne­wreas­ons: Some of us were bat­ting THE MIST around on Dave Kehr’s blog recently, in the thread about the new noir DVD boxes. You might want to take a look over there.

  • LexG says:

    Who is Dave Kehr? Can someone tell me some more movie blogs where I can post about vag, chicks’ feet, and jailbait?
    YEP YEP YEP YEP YEP YEP YEP YEP.

  • hamletta says:

    Criterion cer­tainly missed an oppor­tun­ity to reprint the article.…”
    Yes, because the med­ic­al lit­er­at­ure makes for such scin­til­lat­ing read­ing, such com­pel­ling plot lines.
    The gen­er­al pub­lic would have been enthralled! as com­pared to watch­ing a per­form­ance by James Mason, the walk­ing defin­i­tion of snooze-fest.

  • Oliver C says:

    Save your sar­casm. A few seconds of Googling would’ve revealed that the ori­gin­al art­icle actu­ally appeared in ‘The New Yorker’ and was no more a dry treat­ise than what used to be pub­lished in, say, OMNI Magazine. A story of manic-depression, famili­al dys­func­tion and med­ic­al neg­li­gence can be just as com­pel­ling without throw­ing in some wholly fic­tion­al­ised, scissor-wielding psycho-rampage at the end.
    Have you heard of Richard Preston’s book ‘The Hot Zone’, a true-life account of the Ebola vir­us and how, because of labor­at­ory ineptitude, it nearly infec­ted America? I used to won­der how such a sober yet com­pel­ling account could’ve meta­stas­ised in Hollywood into the relent­less hys­teria of ‘Outbreak’, but it seems there’s no short­age of stu­dio exec­ut­ives who think like you, hamletta.
    I mean, I hated Fincher’s ‘Zodiac’, did­n’t you? All those dis­cus­sions over the valid­ity of evid­ence when the screen­writer could’ve just had them arrest the guy and beat a con­fes­sion out of him, who cares if in real life the Zodiac killer got away, I mean BORESVILLE or what?!
    “The future of the ENTIRE HUMAN RACE is in DANGER unless we FIND this MONKEY!!!”
    “I know he’s GUILTY, Sarge! I can FEEL IT in my BONES!!!”

  • MarkVH says:

    “You know what’s STUPID AS FUCK is in Double Indemnity when Fred MacMurray GOES BOWLING.”
    – LOL. That’s all, just LOL. =)”
    Indeed. This is why I feel like the movie blog­ging world sort of needs LexG – every now and then he’ll make an obser­va­tion that oth­ers either haven’t noticed or don’t want to bring up. Ignoring the part about old movies suck­ing, is there man or woman among us who has­n’t looked upon Double Indemnity and winced just a tiny bit when the MacMurray bowl­ing scene comes? It’s the most dated scene in a film that oth­er­wise feels pretty con­tem­por­ary, and though it might have added to MacMurray’s badass-loner per­sona in the film back in ’44, it nev­er fails to eli­cit a little chuckle when I watch it now. That said, I’d argue there are prob­ably ten scenes in Manhunter (a Lex fave) that come across as more dated, but it does­n’t really mat­ter, because both movies OWN.
    Give me LexG over the non­sensic­al fan­boy rant­ings of some­body like IOv2 any day. In ref­er­ence to his oth­er post, any­body else envi­sion­ing a Lex vs. Nicolas Saada smack­down right about now? It’s enough to make a per­son’s head explode (YEP YEP).

  • [MacMurray’s bowl­ing scene] is the most dated scene in a film that oth­er­wise feels pretty con­tem­por­ary, and though it might have added to MacMurray’s badass-loner per­sona in the film back in ’44, it nev­er fails to eli­cit a little chuckle when I watch it now.”
    — Hmm, I don’t know that I’d use the word DATED, but yes, the scene does seem weirdly out of place in that film.
    Btw, has any­one thought to add Subscribe to Comments (or some­thing sim­il­ar) to this blog? http://wordpress.org/extend/plugins/subscribe-to-comments/

  • The Siren says:

    I con­fess, I have no idea what’s the prob­lem with MacMurray bowl­ing. In no way is the char­ac­ter sup­posed to be a badass. He’s an insur­ance sales­man, for cry­ing out loud, an office drone being lured out of his dull exist­ence into doing things he’s barely had the nerve to even fan­tas­ize about. He goes to a drive-in, gets a beer, goes bowling–he’s clear­ing his head by going back to his usu­al nerdy routine after a long hard after­noon dis­cuss­ing murder with Barbara Stanwyck. The con­trast is delib­er­ate, and I think very effective.

  • Yes to The Siren. The bowl­ing is indeed nerdy, and that is indeed the point. The world of DOUBLE INDEMNITY is one where an ordinary-to-boring drone can drift into a lothario and a mur­der­er and hardly even notice he’s doing it. If he were a badass—that is, someone set apart from the com­mon herd by his tough­ness, propensity to viol­ence, or grim strength—the movie would leave the audi­ence much less mor­ally culpable.

  • Kent Jones says:

    The oth­er night I was sit­ting around with a group of fel­low sex­less film nerds. We had just fin­ished eat­ing our hot dogs and pol­ish­ing off a few donuts for dessert, and we got to dis­cuss­ing what it would have been like to have actu­ally held hands with Jane Wyman. Once the excite­ment had passed, we decided to watch DOUBLE INDEMNITY again. And everything was going fine until the bowl­ing scene. “Gee,” I sud­denly thought, “this sure is dated. What can I do?” The next day, I found the answer. It’s a new piece of soft­ware called DateCheck. You can down­load it for $49.95 here: http://www.datecheckfiles.com/WinMend-Folder-Hidden_program_60480.html. Here’s how it works. After you’ve installed DateCheck on your com­puter, just pop in your DVD and DateCheck will scan it, identi­fy poten­tially dated areas and delete them. I star­ted with THE SEARCHERS. I was amazed. My copy of the film is now com­pletely up to date – no more Stan Jones, no more Sons of the Pioneers, no more “Yumping Yiminy!” The film now runs 52 minutes, but the essence is there. My DOUBLE INDEMNITY now runs 47 minutes. And my copy of MANHUNTER runs exactly 58 elec­tri­fy­ing seconds.

  • MarkVH says:

    Oh, please. Siren, of course we know why he goes bowl­ing (the voi­ceover explains it expli­citly), which isn’t the point. The point is simply that in 2010 very few office drones – nerdy or oth­er­wise – would attempt to clear their head by going bowl­ing alone, which MacMurray’s VO makes sound like some kind of com­mon thing (“went to the bowl­ing alley and rolled a few lines”). Not a big deal, but the ref­er­ence is some­thing that ’44 audi­ences prob­ably would have accep­ted as much more nor­mal vs. a 2010 audi­ence, which would (and do) prob­ably find it a little odd. I love, love, love Double Indemnity. The bowl­ing is just sort of dated and, posi­tioned the way it is in the film, a little funny.

  • Glenn Kenny says:

    My, I do enjoy it when our friend Mr. Jones is feel­ing feisty. And allow me, as I pre­pare to hit the gym, to heart­ily echo the dis­dain he has for the term “film nerd.” Self-directed or oth­er­wise, I always find the phrase cringe­worthy. Whenever I hear it, or some­thing similar—“film geek,” yes, I was born for it!—I am reminded of my man Robert Christgau’s immor­tal review of a record entitled “This Is Bull:” “Speak for your­self, Ferdinand.”

  • The Siren says:

    I could say all sorts of feisty things here myself, but I do not wish to dim the after­glow I’m feel­ing from Mr. Jones’s comment.

  • pvitari says:

    Didn’t Murnau sat­ir­ize the improb­able happy end­ing in The Last Laugh all the way back in 1925? That end­ing is kind of a last laugh in itself. Happy end­ings are the old­est story in the book. 🙂
    As for L.A. Confidential, that’s the way the nov­el ends, so com­plain to James Ellroy. 🙂
    Re the end­ing of Bigger than Life… If Mason has to stop tak­ing the cortisone, won’t he die in a year or so from his med­ic­al con­di­tion? Or was it only that he was abus­ing the drug by tak­ing too much, and if he reg­u­lates it care­fully he will be OK? Even so the pos­sib­il­ity of future abuse lurks. Then end­ing seems only “happy” on the sur­face to me.
    Tyrone Power argued for the nov­el’s end­ing of Nightmare Alley but he was over­ruled. A shame, because it would have been an incred­ibly power-ful (sorry) moment on film. By the way, for Nightmare Alley fans, vis­it my NA screen­caps at http://www.paulasmoviepage.shutterfly.com. (End of plug.)

  • On second thought, per­haps we could con­sider the bowl­ing scene in light of the sports-themed pic­tures hanging above Neff’s couch. What do they along with the poten­tially “out-dated,” “weird,” and “nerdy” bowl­ing scene say about his character? =)
    I can­’t find a good image online, but these are what I mean: http://www.mattfind.com/12345673215–3‑2–3_img/movie/p/z/n/double_indemnity_1944_500x366_262708.jpg

  • Kent Jones says:

    Thanks Glenn and The Siren, but my Total Awesomeness does­n’t allow me much time to bask in the glow of your Film Nerdian com­pli­ments. I’m on my way back from Gray’s Papaya where I caught a glimpse of a Kristen Stewart-lookalike in cut-offs and her brother­’s work shirt. I’ve got an after­noon’s worth of fan­tas­iz­ing ahead of me.

  • jbryant says:

    Oy, the whole “dated” thing again. Those “dated” touches that seem to take so many folks out of a movie are often big pluses for me. Window into anoth­er era and all that. Slices of life. Complaints seem a bit odd to me, like say­ing “What’s with all the big hats and guns and horses in this Western?”
    And I’m not just rag­ging on Lex (this is yancyskancy, bud).

  • Owain Wilson says:

    I do feel it’s point­less to cri­ti­cise an old film for being dated when the dated bits in ques­tion are cul­tur­al, as opposed to cine­mat­ic­ally dated. I haven’t seen Double Indemnity (yeah, I know), but if bowl­ing yanked a man’s chain back in the 40s then that’s fine and dandy.
    There’s noth­ing dated about going to the beach, but going to the beach with all your friends and listen­ing to gen­er­ic surf music on your tran­sist­or radio while doing the twist and swoon­ing over some slab of beef called Blake or whatever is def­in­itely dated – cine­mat­ic­ally speak­ing, of course.

  • DUH says:

    As long as LexG is affect­ing the level of dis­course around here, please allow me to go full 4chan and say KENT JONES FTW. Or is it Ken Jones wins the thread? Man, I am not good at all inter­net traditions.

  • MarkVH says:

    Indeed, very cute Kent.
    And nobody (besides Lex, who prob­ably does­n’t believe what he’s say­ing any­way) is cri­ti­ciz­ing the film because there’s a dated ref­er­ence in it. There’s a big dif­fer­ence between tak­ing the piss with a film we deeply love vs. pulling a Jeff Wells and being all “Vertigo sucks because Jimmy Stewart’s clothes are stu­pid and I’m the only one who knows it.” jbry­ant is right when he says that these things tend to become part of what we love about films rather than detract­ors, so I’m really not see­ing what the issue is with hav­ing a little good-natured fun with some favor­ites. It’s a mat­ter of view­ing the dated stuff as “flaws” instead of simply chuck­ling at their exist­ence and mov­ing on.
    As film buffs we tend to get very defens­ive when people call out insig­ni­fic­ant flaws in great films or can­’t get into a film because it’s “so old.” I can­’t tell you how many times I’ve sat through a film class – I’m an MA stu­dent at NYU – in which my class­mates howled with laughter at and older film and I thought to myself, “Christ, GROW UP.” But can­’t we, the priv­ileged few, have a little fun with this stuff know­ing that it does­n’t really mat­ter anyway?

  • I don’t know, but I think there may be a dis­tinc­tion worth draw­ing between something’s that “dated” and something’s that’s genu­inely “of its time.”
    Fred MacMurray going bowl­ing alone, or Jimmy Cagney snap­ping “Whaddaya hear, whad­daya say?” or Myrna Loy knock­ing back mar­tinis, eleg­antly, nev­er feel dated to me, because they feel like hon­est reflec­tions of cer­tain char­ac­ters in a cer­tain time.
    On the oth­er hand I sus­pect all that shaky-cam cine­ma­to­graphy we see now is going to look very dated a gen­er­a­tion from now, because so much of it isn’t really “real” – it’s just trendy, a copy of a copy of a copy…
    I think, ulti­mately, things either feel authen­t­ic, or they don’t, and that’s all that really matters.

  • bill says:

    What Stephen said.

  • Owain Wilson says:

    Stephen Whitty …
    Bingo!

  • Kent Jones says:

    Speaking ser­i­ously, I agree with Stephen Whitty 98%. The remain­ing 2% is reserved for space to con­tem­plate the dis­tinc­tion he’s draw­ing, which I think is finally pretty min­is­cule if it exists at all.
    I don’t really know what “dated” means in the first place, which is why I don’t under­stand MarkVH’s notion that those of us who don’t care wheth­er some­thing is or is not “dated” are “priv­ileged.” Where is the priv­ilege exactly? Everything is marked by its time – if not, noth­ing would be very inter­est­ing. Personally, I’ve nev­er been very bothered by Film Forum audi­ences laugh­ing at movies, even when they’re movies I love. It’s a val­id response, and it comes from unfa­mili­ar­ity. I’ve spent more time watch­ing films from earli­er eras than a lot of people in the room – by pre­dilec­tion, not “priv­ilege” – so I’m not sur­prised by older ideas of act­ing or dram­at­urgy or snappy dia­logue. Or, for that mat­ter, what an aver­age Joe did with his leis­ure time in 1938, when DOUBLE INDEMNITY is set. I go to Film Forum reg­u­larly, and I have noticed that the laughter is much less pre­val­ent than it was 10 years ago. The audi­ences are ded­ic­ated and maybe they’ve become more famil­i­ar with those old ideas. Or maybe it’s the idea of going to old movies to laugh at them and rein­force your com­fort in your own time that has become “dated.” Maybe not.

  • grtela says:

    A quick men­tion that I just spoke with my house­mate about what she (a 26 year old who lives in Brooklyn circa 2010) did last night. As it turns out she went to two rock shows (Spiritualized & The Gories) and then hoped on the sub­way and went to (drum­roll please) The Brooklyn Bowl to go (you guessed it) bowling.
    Back to the sub­ject at hand though, my favor­ite noir end­ing is actu­ally one that I find to be pretty com­plex in terms of what makes a happy ending.
    SCARLET STREET FTW

  • Mr. Peel says:

    I just want to say that the one thing I want on the inter­net more than any­thing else is for Lex to start post­ing at Dave Kehr’s site.

  • Kent Jones says:

    Mr. Peel – why exactly would you want that? Because you’d enjoy the spec­tacle of him mak­ing fun of Dave and every­one else at the site, or because you’d enjoy the spec­tacle of him being attacked and ulti­mately kicked off the site? Which would be funnier?

  • LexG says:

    I checked it out, just not for me. Dude isn’t pro­lif­ic enough, which is a key of stak­ing claim as a com­menter on someone’s board. Guy aver­ages like a thread about every five, six days. What the hell? Wells does like eight post­ings a day.
    And not too many of the names ring out, and it just looks like a bunch of old-movie dorks.
    Like, STEP OUT OF THE OLD. Watching old movies is like doing your laun­dry by hand. Why both­er? I don’t relate to ANYTHING in old movies, because I like movies to be hard­core and pro­fane and viol­ent with tons of sex and CHICKS I CURRENTLY FIND HOT.
    How do you guys work up a boner for some black and white chick who looks like I Love Lucy and she’s either been dead for 30 years, or you know in real life she’s some old fuck?
    Women are only CURRENTLY HOT. Even chicks from the 90s aren’t hot any­more, I prob­ably could­n’t even get wood for 1997 Alicia Silverstone or Charlize Theron today, because I EMBRACE THE NEW.

  • Glenn Kenny says:

    Lex G asks “How do you guys work up a boner for some black and white chick who looks like I Love Lucy and she’s either been dead for 30 years, or you know in real life she’s some old fuck?”
    Well, the short answer is, we don’t. It’s called com­part­ment­al­iz­a­tion, Lex. One does­n’t neces­sar­ily look at “Out of the Past” in order to “get wood,” as it were; the film offers cer­tain oth­er satisfactions.
    You know what’s good for what you’re talk­ing about? That is, what kind of film func­tions well as por­no­graphy? You’ll nev­er guess, it’s…pornography! And even in that field, the aging pro­cess is, well, what it is. Asia Carrera retires, Stephanie Swift semi-retires, comes back, falls ill, prob­ably retires again, and so on. Even Sasha Grey, who, to address an earli­er ques­tion you posed some­where around these parts, is indeed lovely to gaze upon in per­son and is a thor­oughly pro­fes­sion­al per­former and a really delight­ful and enga­ging per­son, will, God will­ing, become an old woman and will likely not appear as fresh as she does today. This is real life. “That’s finer stuff still, but it’ll rot too,” as the old lady says to Gloria Stuart in “The Old Dark House.” And if, as a white het­ero­sexu­al male, you find you need your cine­mat­ic objects of lust to stay fixed in almost-post-adolescence, and you trum­pet this pref­er­ence on the inter­net con­stantly even as you your­self grow older and the like­li­hood of you ever achiev­ing a ful­filling erot­ic rela­tion­ship with any indi­vidu­al of that stripe grows ever, ever thin­ner, well, you start to come off like a sad char­ac­ter out of the early Soft Boys cata­log. Compartmentalization, keep­ing your own coun­sel; that’s really the tick­et in these mat­ters, I think.
    Also, the par­tic­u­lar brand of, erm, spe­cial­iz­a­tion you dis­play in com­ments such as those above may indeed prove an inhib­it­ing factor w/r/t your hirab­il­ity as a paid film crit­ic or review­er. Just so you know…

  • Kent Jones says:

    Glenn, when it’s all about the quant­ity of post­ings and how much atten­tion can be had from being either put-on “stoop­id” or reflex­ively pro­voc­at­ive, when you find your­self respond­ing to someone who might or might not believe what he’s say­ing and does­n’t care if you believe it or not, then why bother?

  • Oliver C says:

    Why can­’t I be blown away by, say, Grace Kelly in ‘To Catch A Thief’? For 99.999% of all straight males on the plan­et (and yes LexG that includes you too, sorry) it’s not like there’s actu­ally any more chance of ever banging Penelope Cruz or Natalie Portman; if you did­n’t watch so much crappy, competitiveness-aggrandising wish ful­fill­ment out of Hollywood, you’d real­ise that.

  • If a com­menter spews on a thread, and abso­lutely no one engages him or even appears to notice, will he even­tu­ally go away?
    Might be worth a try.
    And Glenn, re: your note under that oth­er post (and that screen­grab of Kim Novak, who by the way looks love­li­er in “Bell, Book and Candle” than untold cur­rent act­resses), best of luck in all your endeavors.
    Few people deserve more to be writ­ing full-time about film than you (and quite a few deserve to be writ­ing far less – but I’m not open­ing that can of worms again).

  • Glenn Kenny says:

    @ Kent: Well, you know how it is. Say you’re wait­ing for the woman you love to fin­ish get­ting dressed so you can walk with her to the sub­way, and you’re in front of the com­puter; not enough time to get any REAL work done, so why not engage in some silly com­ments thread banter, right? But I see your point. Better I should con­tem­plate a few lines of Ted Hughes’ Ovid trans­la­tions, or get in a para­graph or two of Algren.

  • Kent Jones says:

    Glenn, I was refer­ring only to the above ref­er­ences to get­ting a woody for Lucille Ball and injunc­tions to embrace the new and step out of the old and how many more times a day Jeff Wells posts as opposed to Dave. Not worth your time.

  • Tom Russell says:

    Dude isn’t pro­lif­ic enough, which is a key of stak­ing claim as a com­menter on someone’s board.”
    That would be why the prom­ised firestorm of com­ments nev­er mater­i­al­ized in my neck of the ‘net. Pity. I was look­ing for­ward to ignor­ing you.

  • LexG says:

    Tom: I already for­got about you.
    Take that as you will.
    Also, you will all RUE THE DAY when I am dat­ing Dakota Fanning or Taylor Momsen or Selena Gomez, and you will see that I TURN WORDS INTO ACTION through the sheer force of my per­son­al power.
    Glenn, I do have to agree with a com­menter a couple up: Almost NO ONE deserves to be writ­ing and get­ting paid than you do. Totally agree that it’s appalling, some of the mediocrit­ies who cur­rently have a semi-cushy gig. Best of luck.

  • Jeff McMahon says:

    Committing sui­cide or dat­ing under­age act­resses, the two things you’re con­stantly prom­ising to do. Pick one already and get it over with.