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…
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…
…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.
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.)
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…
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.
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.
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”?
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?
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…)
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…”
“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…”
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.
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.
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.
“Brother, I was born for it?”
No, it’s “Mister, I was made for it.”
I do apologize.
Have to admit, completely out of context, I kinda like the consonance/rhythm of Bill’s version better.
According to the internet, Griff and I are both right. Various sources quote the line as: “Mister, I was born for it.”
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.
Two gloriously trumped up happy endings to seedy preceedings:
Brecht’s THREE PENNY OPERA and Lynch’s BLUE VELVET.
Scenes of bowling never did ‘The Big Lebowski’ any harm. Are you ready to be fucked, LexG?
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.
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.
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.
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.
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…
How many people read the article that Bigger Than Life was based on? Not as many as have seen the film, I’d bet.
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. =)
Cool, I have a new fan, plus she’s a chick
YEP YEP.
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.
@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?
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.
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.
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).
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.
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.
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.
“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.
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!!!”
““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/
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.
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.
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.
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.”
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.
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
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.
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).
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.
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.
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.
What Stephen said.
Stephen Whitty …
Bingo!
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.
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
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.
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?
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.
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…
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?
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).
@ 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.
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.
“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.
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.
Committing suicide or dating underage actresses, the two things you’re constantly promising to do. Pick one already and get it over with.