Gun Crazy (aka Deadly Is the Female, 1950)

Cinema has never relented in exploring gun violence, especially in America, and Gun Crazy is a key text, a B-movie film noir which has very much stood the test of time.


This feels like some kind of foundational text on the American fixation with gun violence, albeit in the form of a 1940s film (and therefore technically PG-rated). It’s darker and more twisted than that suggests, and for all the sunshine smiling innocent-looking face of John Dall (and, as a teenager in the opening scenes, Russ “Rusty” Tamblyn), he’s clearly not just some naïf who has strayed into the orbit of a dangerous femme fatale, Annie (Peggy Cummins, an Irish-Welsh actor, billed as English in the film, but sounding perfectly transatlantic as all actors seemed to do back then). No, Dall’s Bart has his own violent and criminal urges to deal with, and pretty soon the daily grind of a low-paid straight job starts to tire and they fall into robbing banks to make enough money to keep them in the lives they want. Still, this film (originally released in the UK as Deadly Is the Female) feels more about Annie, the way she spots Bart right away as a fellow traveller in gun obsession, about the look she gets when she’s bored and wants to live a bit more on the edge, and about the obsession she provokes in Bart. She may be painted as the one with the homocidal urges (Bart never kills anyone, though he confesses to wanting to), but she’s a rounded character with her own agency, not just Bart’s fantasy.

Gun Crazy film posterCREDITS
Director Joseph H. Lewis; Writers Dalton Trumbo [as “Millard Kaufman”] and MacKinlay Kantor (based on Kantor’s short story); Cinematographer Russell Harlan; Starring Peggy Cummins, John Dall, Russ Tamblyn; Length 87 minutes.
Seen at BFI Southbank (NFT3), London, Monday 29 July 2019.

Criterion Sunday 274: Night and the City (1950)

A fun little number that’s set in London but made under the auspices of a Hollywood studio (with a number of big American names heading the cast) so it still sort of feels like a Hollywood pic. Richard Widmark plays a small-time conman and hood who’s looking for a break while doing some strictly small-time hustling, and finds it in wrestling. There’s a whole plotline featuring an old-school Greco-Roman wrestler who’s grumpy at his son (Herbert Lom) for taking up with a bunch of newer guys doing moves he doesn’t approve of at all. Well somehow Widmark gets in the middle of all this and it’s probably a bad idea, but he tries to make it work. Widmark doesn’t quite feel right for the role, or maybe I should say he’s not right for what the character needs to be to make it a success, so I guess you could make a case that he’s exactly right: he’s doomed. It’s a noir. Of course he’s doomed. (At least in the Hollywood ending; I haven’t yet seen the British cut.) There’s a real post-war sense of gloom to the capital that’s both true to the genre and also fits the era, and it’s all captured magnificently.

CRITERION EXTRAS:

  • There’s a British cut of this film with completely different music and a different ending, which I haven’t yet watched.
  • Historian Christopher Husted does a comparison of the scores for the British and American versions, and comes down in favour of the American score (preferred by Dassin himself), which does a better job of conveying the doomed noirish setting.

FILM REVIEW: Criterion Collection
Director Jules Dassin; Writer Jo Eisinger (based on the novel by Gerald Kersh); Cinematographer Max Greene; Starring Richard Widmark, Gene Tierney, Googie Withers, Herbert Lom; Length 96 minutes.

Seen at home (Blu-ray), London, Wednesday 6 November 2019.

Criterion Sunday 273: Thieves’ Highway (1949)

I like a noir, and I like a good American B-picture, because there’s an underlying desire to just get on with the story that’s almost refreshing. Here we get Nick (Richard Conte), back from the war to find his old man in a wheelchair thanks to some nefarious dealings with a San Francisco produce dealer, Mike Figlia (Lee Cobb). And so Nick gets on the road with his dad’s friend to haul apples to Frisco and settle some scores, which leads him to prostitute-with-a-heart Rica (Valentina Cortese, who died only earlier this year, as it happens). The pugnacious setup all feels fairly familiar, but the details about the fruit market and the bitter competition for prices is a nice twist that keeps things fresh, as we get a sense of the corruption and backstabbing that goes on to get to the top of the business world (I never knew such profits could be made on a Golden Delicious). There’s a straightforward charm to it, with the requisite pools of noirish darkness in the black-and-white lensing, some striking camera setups, and hard-nosed performances.

CRITERION EXTRAS:

  • Director Jules Dassin speaks about the film over 50 years later (like Cortese, he lived into his 90s), fondly recalling details like the actor who zips up his jacket when he sees a man burned alive, or looking misty-eyed about Valentina Cortese.
  • There’s a four-minute snippet of the (at the time) under-production documentary about the life of screenwriter “Buzz” Bezzerides, of which further snippets are on the Criterion release of another Bezzerides script, Kiss Me Deadly (1955).
  • The original trailer is included, and of course a classic American pulpy trailer can be a wonderful thing. It obviously makes everything sound so much more lascivious than it really is, but it has its charms.

FILM REVIEW: Criterion Collection
Director Jules Dassin; Writer A.I. Bezzerides (based on his novel Thieves’ Market); Cinematographer Norbert Brodine; Starring Richard Conte, Valentina Cortese, Lee J. Cobb; Length 94 minutes.

Seen at home (DVD), London, Thursday 31 October 2019.

Two Films by Julio Bracho: Another Dawn (1943) and Twilight (1945)

We’re now deep into the Golden Age of Mexican cinema, though I can’t tell you much about the director himself. He was from a large family, was sister to Andrea Palma (seen in 1934’s The Woman of the Port and in Another Dawn below) and a cousin to Dolores del Río (whom we saw in La otra). He was involved with modern theatre in Mexico City in the 1930s and then moved into writing and directing between the 1940s-1970s, though he had trouble with the censors later in his career. He passed away in 1978.

Continue reading “Two Films by Julio Bracho: Another Dawn (1943) and Twilight (1945)”

Criterion Sunday 245: Le Quai des brumes (Port of Shadows, 1938)

People talk about this being a proto-noir, and I’ll defer to those more knowledgeable about their genres than I am, but it somehow feels less doomed, though it’s bleakly fatalistic in its way. It does, however, have an amazing sense of setting, as fog constantly closes in around all the characters in the port setting of Le Havre, shot by the great Eugen Schüfftan, who did Metropolis amongst others and so has a hand in defining how noir might (and would come to) look. It’s been described as “poetic realism”, and this feels like Carné’s thing in this film, harking back to earlier examples of the style through the casting of L’Atalante‘s Michel Simon. Jean Gabin’s army deserter Jean finds himself trying his best to stay out of trouble, but as they say trouble constantly seems to stick to him, like the fog, the oppressive sets, and the petulant baby-faced pretend-gangster Lucien (Pierre Brasseur) who’s on his case the whole time. It’s all rather glorious.


FILM REVIEW: Criterion Collection
Director Marcel Carné; Writer Jacques Prévert (based on the novel by Pierre Mac Orlan); Cinematographer Eugen Schüfftan; Starring Jean Gabin, Michel Simon, Michèle Morgan, Pierre Brasseur; Length 91 minutes.

Seen at home (DVD), London, Sunday 31 March 2019.

Criterion Sunday 233: 野良犬 Nora Inu (Stray Dog, 1949)

A fine crime procedural, which follows a young detective (Toshiro Mifune) who has his gun stolen from him in a moment of weariness on a tram, and spends the rest of the film tracking it down, learning along the way the serious consequences of such a breach of attention. It has a noirish hue, as Mifune goes deeper into the sleazy underworld, and throughout there’s a tangible sense of suffocating heat, characters constantly wiping the sweat from their faces, their clothes suffused with damp. It set up Kurosawa’s interest in refining pulpy generic storylines that he’d further pursue in subsequent films with Mifune and over his career.

CRITERION EXTRAS:

  • As with many of the Kurosawa discs, it includes a short documentary about its making, part of a Japanese TV series called It Is Wonderful to Create. The format remains consistent: text-heavy and reliant on interviews, with original archival materials interspersed with the words of surviving collaborators. The art director who worked on the film is interviewed wearing a Guns N Roses t-shirt, so there’s that. The image of Mifune doing a little jig, as relayed by the (then) young co-star, is also amusing.

FILM REVIEW: Criterion Collection
Director Akira Kurosawa 黒澤明; Writers Kurosawa and Ryuzo Kikushima 菊島隆三; Cinematographer Asakazu Nakai 中井朝一; Starring Toshiro Mifune 三船敏郎, Takashi Shimura 志村喬; Length 122 minutes.

Seen at a friend’s home (DVD), London, Sunday 28 October 2018 (and originally on VHS at the university library, Wellington, April 1998).

Criterion Sunday 227: Le Corbeau (1943)

One of those crime films with the deep shadows, the chiaroscuro and accompanying shades of moral greyness, that distinguishes film noir, in which all the inhabitants of a small town are brought into conflict by a mysterious letter writer, whose identity gets pinned to any number of people throughout the film, and whose accusations get steadily more unnerving. Clouzot is most interested, it seems, in the way that ‘decent’ people can have their judgement clouded, and become the enemies of other ‘decent’ people, ultimately suggesting perhaps that everyone has base motivations. Given that it was made under German occupation, it’s not a stretch to suggest that Clouzot — if not uncomplicatedly making an anti-Nazi film — is at least not willing to let anyone off the hook for what humanity is capable of.


FILM REVIEW: Criterion Collection
Director Henri-Georges Clouzot; Writers Louis Chavance and Clouzot; Cinematographer Nicolas Hayer; Starring Pierre Fresnay, Micheline Francey, Ginette Leclerc; Length 93 minutes.

Seen at a friend’s home (DVD), London, Sunday 9 September 2018.

Criterion Sunday 224: Pickup on South Street (1953)

Sam Fuller had made a few movies by the time he made this, so he had started to hone his style a little, enough to make this fantastic, concise film noir about a man who pickpockets the wrong woman and finds himself mixed up with international espionage and Communist agents. The dialogue rattles off with all the appropriate relish, and it has a particularly great role for Thelma Ritter as an ageing stoolpigeon, sharing information to the highest bidder with a devil-may-care abandon — though even she has lines she won’t cross, and the Red Menace is one of them (well, it is a film from McCarthy’s 1950s, after all). Jean Peters is an actor who should have been in a lot more films, and the look of both her and the film is a constant delight, with the high-contrast monochrome photography affording the city a lustrous splendour.


FILM REVIEW: Criterion Collection
Director/Writer Samuel Fuller; Cinematographer Joseph MacDonald; Starring Richard Widmark, Jean Peters, Thelma Ritter; Length 80 minutes.

Seen at a friend’s home (DVD), London, Sunday 26 August 2018.

Criterion Sunday 176: The Killers (1946/1964)

This Criterion release bundles together two adaptations of the Ernest Hemingway short story from 1927, each separated by almost twenty years and with a different generation of Hollywood direction, though it’s the first adaptation that really sticks out. After all, there’s something immensely satisfying about this key early film noir picture, and it’s not just the high-contrast shadows thrown across the screen, or the world-weary way that Burt Lancaster’s “Swede” meets his death (that’s not a spoiler by the way: that’s the set-up of the film). It’s not in the writing either (although excellent) and not just the first scenes in the diner (which are the ones taken from Hemingway’s short story) which leads into a backstory of intrigue that as it unfolds doubles-down on its double-crosses by piling them on thick and fast. No, what’s satisfying is that all of these elements come together with the excellent noir acting, all that heavy-lidded sense of fatalistic doom conveyed by Lancaster and Gardner but also all the character actors who round out the cast. Even when the plot’s events start to seem like they’re getting out of hand, the film keeps it all in check, and all the character types that seem so familiar to us now are all presented new and fresh.

Don Siegel’s remake may not perhaps be the equal of the Siodmak film (which the producer originally wanted Siegel to direct, apparently), but there’s certainly something to Don Siegel’s reimagining. Despite the film’s title and trailer, there’s not very much left of Ernest Hemingway’s original short story here except the sense in which a man fatalistically accepts his own death at the hands of the title’s killers. Thereupon these two, primarily Lee Marvin (always excellent), take it upon themselves to find out why he was killed, and uncover a ring of gangsters led by Ronald Reagan. The film’s plot takes about half the movie to kick in, and as a film, it feels quite different — less a noir than a doomed romance. It also proves that Reagan was much more convincing as a bad guy, a sad realisation to come with his last performance (maybe if he’d tried it earlier and found more acting success, we all could have been spared his political ambitions). Still, as a film this is a watchable piece of high-toned 60s murder mystery which seems to pave the way for Marvin into the greater, yet somehow stylistically reminiscent, Point Blank a few years later.

Criterion Extras: Joining these two is a film primarily known now as Andrei Tarkovsky’s first (student) film from 1956, although it was co-directed by three film students. It takes on only the events of the short story (clearly influenced visually by Robert Siodmak’s 1946 adaptation) and re-presents it, including some of the racist language that Siodmak’s work had omitted. Indeed, the scenes with the black(face) cook, even at this remove, seem pointlessly racist, but as a film this still shows some flair with its staging.


FILM REVIEW: Criterion Collection
Seen at home (Blu-ray), London, Sunday 22 October 2017.

The Killers (1946)
Director Robert Siodmak; Writer Anthony Veiller (based on the short story by Ernest Hemingway); Cinematographer Woody Bredell; Starring Burt Lancaster, Ava Gardner, Edmond O’Brien; Length 103 minutes.

The Killers (1964)
Director Don Siegel; Writer Gene L. Coon (based on the short story by Ernest Hemingway); Cinematographer Richard L. Rawlings; Starring Lee Marvin, Angie Dickinson, Clu Gulager, John Cassavetes, Ronald Reagan; Length 95 minutes.

Criterion Sunday 137: Notorious (1946)

Top Hitchcockery here from the master of morally-dubious controlling men — and all the men really are very bad people (Cary Grant as government agent Devlin included, handsome a figure though he may be). Ingrid Bergman is lovely even as the daughter of a Nazi enlisted to spy on her father’s friends, and proves you don’t have to have done much to have a reputation. Then again, perhaps it is more than just she who befits the film’s title. She also brushes past all the insinuations with aplomb, at least until she cannot. Plenty of great but unostentatious camerawork and thrills aplenty, especially in an excellent wine cellar scene.

2019 UPDATE: Seeing this again on a big screen in a new restoration really underscores how excellent this film is, not just in the fluid use of the camera (there are some remarkable sequences) but also the way that actors and performance come together so well. Ingrid Bergman is trapped between two controlling men: she loves one (Cary Grant’s Devlin) but he knows that to be an effective asset she needs to sleep with the Nazi (Claude Rains as Sebastian). Much of this internal struggle is conveyed by glances and brief touches, but it’s perfectly clear at all times how the dynamics are working. And then there are all the supporting cast, moments of high camp harnessed into this taut moral psychodrama. My favourite gesture was the way that Sebastian’s mother lights a cigarette when she finds out her daughter-in-law is a spy, almost post-coital, but there are these touches throughout. The cinematography sparkles too, though at times the restoration feels almost too pristine (especially when there’s back projection of the Brazilian setting). Anyway, a grand achievement, one of Hitchcock’s finest.


FILM REVIEW: Criterion Collection
Director Alfred Hitchcock; Writer Ben Hecht; Cinematographer Ted Tetzlaff; Starring Cary Grant, Ingrid Bergman, Claude Rains; Length 101 minutes.

Seen at a friend’s home (DVD), London, Sunday 11 December 2016, and since then at the Watershed, Bristol, Thursday 26 July 2019.