More than Max: Erich von Stroheim and Foolish Wives (1922)

If you’re like me, you know Erich von Stroheim best as Max Von Mayerling, the butler (and first husband) of aging silent movie star Norma Desmond (Gloria Swanson) in the classic 1950 noir Sunset Blvd.

But there was so much more to von Stroheim than Max.

While writing about von Stroheim for the soon-to-be-released Sunset Blvd. edition of The Dark Pages film noir newsletter, I became utterly obsessed with this actor/director. And, as luck would have it, I had the opportunity to view the Flicker Alley 4K restoration of one of his first directorial efforts, Foolish Wives (1922), a slient film that – the opening credits unabashedly inform us – was “conceived and realized in its entirety by Erich von Stroheim, based on his novel, Foolish Wives.”

— This is von Stroheim’s picture in more ways than one.

In a nutshell, the film centers on exiled “Russian aristocrats” Count Sergius Karamzin (von Stroheim), his cousins, Princess Olga (Maude George) and Princess Vera (Mae Busch), who live in a rented villa in Monaco and finance their lavish existence by passing counterfeit bills. Sergius also preys on wealthy women who visit nearby Monte Carlo, and Foolish Wives shows us the females who fall under his spell, including the family’s maid, Maruschka (Dale Fuller), and Helen Hughes (Miss DuPont), the wife of the U.S. Special Envoy to Monaco. Sergius is a cad of the first degree – he’s not only carrying on with these women, but he also has eyes on the “half-witted” daughter of the counterfeiter with whom he’s in cahoots, and there is some question – given their intimate actions – whether Olga and Vera are actually his cousins (and if they are, they appear to be “kissing” cousins, if you know what I mean. And I think you do.).

The film is captivating in its depiction of the sly manner in which Sergius ingratiates himself into the life of Helen Hughes, arranging to take boat ride with her, sending her flowers – and, ironically, offering to be her “protector” against charlatans who would be after her money. (Amusingly, when Sergius first meets Helen, she is sitting on a terrace reading a book. The book is Foolish Wives by Erich von Stroheim!)

— Sergius is up to no good in the shack with Mrs. Hughes.

Numerous scenes featuring von Stroheim are standouts. In one, Sergius invites Helen to accompany him on a walk, but the two get caught in a severe storm and they take refuge in a shack owned by an old woman. While Helen changes into dry clothes, Sergius respectfully leaves the room, but he spies on her in the reflection of his mirror. (Incidentally, this shot – with the mirror showing half of Segius’s leering face and half of Helen’s bare back – is quite striking and one of the most memorable of the film.)

In another scene, Sergius pulls out all the stops in an effort to separate Helen from a wad of cash that she recently won in a casino. He spins some sort of obscure tale about a debt of honor that must be paid with money or with blood, telling her, “I have given all to my country – and now that I need, I have not. I place my life in your hands.” (In the words of Virginia Grey in The Women [1939], holy mackerel, what a line!) He turns to face the wall in shame but manages to peek behind him to gauge Helen’s reaction. When he sees that Helen is withdrawing her money from her purse, he allows himself a satisfied smirk before fixing his face into its mask of contrition again.

— Maruschka didn’t have a chance.

And Sergius uses more subterfuge with the family maid, Maruschka, who he has promised to marry (possibly, although it’s not explicitly stated, because he has gotten her pregnant). He blames the postponed nuptials on his “unsettled estates” in Russia, but when he learns that Maruschka has socked away a tidy sum during her 20 years of service, he puts on a show worthy of Broadway. After soaking his nails in water (as part of a manicure he’d been giving himself), Sergius hides his face with his hands, lightly flicking the water from his fingers to give the impression of tears falling to the tablecloth. When Maruschka sees this, she immediately gives him all of her savings (even the coins!), and Sergius laughs with diabolical glee when her back is turned. Sergius is completely unredeemable, as he demonstrates throughout the film, and his vile behavior leads to a comeuppance at the end that is as satisfying as it is gruesome.

— The Monte Carlo set was constructed on the Universal Studios backlot. (photo courtesy of Martin Turnbull)

With its lavish sets, costumes, and meticulous attention to detail (including von Stroheim’s insistence on real caviar and champagne), Foolish Wives was known as the “first million-dollar movie” – a fact that I learned from one of the bonus features included with the Flicker Alley set. These include an excerpt from Pathe’s Screen Snapshots series, featuring rare on-set footage from the film; a documentary short about the historical and thematic importance of the film’s locations; a documentary on the making of the film, presented by Dave Kehr, film curator for New York’s Museum of Modern Art (MoMA); and a featurette focusing on the film’s painstaking restoration. The set is a dual format Blu-ray/DVD edition and is accompanied by a new orchestral score composed and conducted by Timothy Brock (originally commissioned for the 2020 San Francisco Silent Film Festival). Also included with the set is a beautifully illustrated 24-page booklet that offers a new essay by James Layton, Manager, Celeste Bartos Film Preservation Center at The Museum of Modern Art, entitled “Searching for Foolish Wives: The Decades-Long Effort to Reconstruct Erich von Stroheim’s Masterpiece,” and excerpts from an examination of the film by critic and author David Thomson. It makes for a first-rate package that has served to fuel my fascination with von Stroheim and pique my interest in seeing more of his work.

— Rudolph Christians and Miss DuPont and Mr. and Mrs. Hughes.

Other stuff:

Rudolph Christians, who played Ambassador Hughes, died of pneumonia in the middle of the production; he was 52 years old. His part was completed by another actor, Robert Edeson, whose scenes were shot from the back.

A pivotal role was served up by the maid, Maruschka, portrayed by Dale Fuller. Her career was primarily in the silent era, including other von Stroheim productions such as Greed (1924) and The Merry Widow (1925), but she also appeared in a handful of talking films. These include the film that I best know her from – The Office Wife (1930) – along with Twentieth Century (1934), and her last film, The Tale of Two Cities (1935).  

There is a particular scene in the film that struck me as a forerunner of the film noir era. In it, Sergius goes to the home of the counterfeiter, Cesare Ventucci (Cesare Gravina), who lives with his daughter, Marietta (Malvina Polo). On two separate occasions, the men enter the bedroom of Marietta, who is asleep. The blinds of her window are open, casting a noir-like depiction of light and shadow, complete with dust motes floating in the air. It makes one wonder when the first window blind shadows appeared in film noir – and whether the cinematographer was a fan of von Stroheim.

My thanks to Flicker Alley for providing a review copy of this Blu-ray/DVD set. It can be purchased at the Flicker Alley website or through Amazon and other online retailers.

Shadowy and Satiny: What to Watch on TCM in December 2023

Nestled in between the holiday fare on TCM, there’s some good noir and pre-Code stuff airing in December – so much so that selecting my two recommendations was a breeze! Check ‘em out . . .

Satiny Pick: Another Language (1933)

I fell for this movie within minutes of first seeing it – maybe it had something to do with the fact that Robert Montgomery is the star! His co-star is Helen Hayes, who I’d previously enjoyed immensely in films like The Sin of Madelon Claudet (1931) and A Farewell to Arms (1932). Together, they play Victor and Stella Hallam, newlyweds who met and married after a whirlwind romance in Europe. We meet them on the ship back to New York, where their first stop is the house where Victor’s family lives – headed by his loving (and I do mean LOVING) mother, played to the hilt by Louise Closser Hale.

— The salad days.

Stella soon sees her wedded bliss melt away like a candy bar on a hot stove. The problem? Her mother-in-law, who dotes on her son and disdains his wife, taking every opportunity she can to either seize Victor’s attention or snidely cast shade on Stella. Or both. It doesn’t make for a happy marriage. But it makes for a darn good movie. Check it out on December 15th.

Other Stuff:

Louise Closser Hale died two days before the release of this film. She’d been shopping in Hollywood in July 1933 when she suffered a health issue – sources vary on whether she was overcome by the heat, suffered a stroke, or had a heart attack, but she died the following day at the age of 60. Her last film, the Marx Brothers’ Duck Soup (1933), where she had an unbilled role, was released in November of that year.

— That’s Hamilton on the right.

Originally, Norma Shearer was cast in the part of Stella Hallam, but her husband, MGM producer Irving Thalberg, suffered a major heart attack in 1932 and she opted to stay home to aid in his recovery.

Another Language got its start as a Broadway play – it ran for nearly a year, from April 1932 to February 1933. Four of the members of the Broadway cast reprised their roles in the film: John Beal, Irene Cattell, Hal K. Dawson, and Margaret Hamilton. The film was the first credited screen role for Hamilton, who is best know for playing the Wicked Witch in the Wizard of Oz (1939).

Shadowy Pick: Roadblock (1949)

— McGraw and Dixon in a clinch.

As with Robert Ryan, Dan Duryea, and Richard Conte, I never met a Charles McGraw noir I didn’t like – and Roadblock is no exception. I’m especially jazzed about recommending this film because it’s so seldom aired. McGraw plays insurance investigator Joe Peters, who’s as hard-boiled as they come – until he falls for Diane (Joan Dixon), an attractive gangster’s moll. And when he learns that Diane is on the hunt for a man with money, well, Joe’s the man for the job.

My favorite part of Roadblock, which I’ve never forgotten in the many years since I first saw this film, is the climax, a car chase filmed in the Los Angeles river bed. It was my introduction to this location; since then, numerous movies have been filmed there, including Them! (1954), Earthquake (1974), Grease (1978), and To Live and Die in L.A. (1985). Roadblock airs December 21st on TCM.

— Dixon had a brief career.

Other Stuff:

Joan Dixon, born Dollie Joan Johnson, had only a brief acting career. Her big screen debut came in the 1950 film Bunco Squad, and she guested on several television series in the late 1950s, including Alfred Hitchcock Presents and Highway Patrol. Her last performance was an uncredited role in the Diana Dors starrer, I Married a Woman (1958). Dixon died of heart disease in 1992 at the age of 61.

Milburn Stone has a small part in the film as an insurance agent. He’s best known for playing “Doc” on the long-running TV series Gunsmoke.

————

Tune into TCM on the 15th and the 21st for Another Language and Roadblock!

Looking for Noir Recommendations?

Hi, all! I was recently a guest on one of my favorite podcasts, Attaboy Clarence, hosted by Adam Roche. I started listening when I got my first iPhone several years ago, and I’ve loved it ever since. In November, I had a blast sharing with Adam five noirs that I think are woefully underrated. I hope you’ll give the podcast a listen, and check out my recommendations. Just click here!

Day 30th of Noirvember: Parting Gifs

I can scarcely believe that another Noirvember — my 10th! — has come to an end. It’s been another great ride, made even more awesome by all of you who commented, read, or even just strolled by on your way elsewhere! I appreciate you so much, one and all. You are the collective cat’s pajamas.

As has become my tradition on the last day of Noirvember, I’m pleased to offer a baker’s dozen of parting gifs from some of my favorite noirs. I hope you enjoy them and I hope to see you around these parts real soon!!

Richard Basehart in He Walked By Night (1948)

Brian Donlevy and Richard Conte in The Big Combo (1955)

Cloris Leachman in Kiss Me Deadly (1955)

Barbara Stanwyck in Double Indemnity (1944)

Ava Gardner and Edmond O’Brien in The Killers (1946)

Humphrey Bogart and Lizabeth Scott in Dead Reckoning (1947)

Mary Astor, Humphrey Bogart, and Peter Lorre in The Maltese Falcon (1941)

Peggy Cummins and John Dall in Gun Crazy (1950)

Helene Stanley in The Asphalt Jungle (1950)

Robert Mitchum and Lillian Gish in The Night of the Hunter (1955)

Gloria Swanson in Sunset Boulevard (1950)

Robert Walker in Strangers on a Train (1951)

Orson Welles in The Third Man (1949)

Until next Noirvember, y’all!

Day 29 of Noirvember: Those Awesome Duos of Noir

All month long this Noirvember, I’ve enjoyed participating in the Noirvember Challenge on Twitter, created by self-described “noircheologist” Kari Hansbarger. Every day during the month, under the #NoirvemberChallenge hashtag, a different category was featured, and interested participants could offer their responses. These included such labels as Favorite Film Noir Director, Coolest Film Noir Character, and Sexiest Film Noir. I participated most days and it’s been a load of fun.

Another category was Favorite Film Noir Duo, and although I made my pick, there were so many to choose from! So for my penultimate Noirvember 2023 post, I’m serving up my Top 10 Favorite Film Noir Duos.

— “Jeepers, I love you, Johnny.”

Kitty “Lazylegs” March and Johnny Prince and from Scarlet Street (1945)

This was the couple that I selected for the Twitter hashtag, and I received numerous replies calling them “scumbags,” “rotten,” and “deliciously unlikeable.” And they weren’t wrong. Kitty was a slob and a liar, and Johnny was a two-bit hood who was too smart for his own good (and didn’t know how to keep his hands to himself).

Annie Laurie Starr and Bart Tare from Gun Crazy (1950)

— “I’m yours and I’m real.”

Bart said it himself – he and Annie went together like guns and ammunition. Once they met, in the words of Max from Hart to Hart, it was MURDER! Actually, that’s not what I was going to write when I started that sentence, but it popped in my head, and I couldn’t help myself. I was going to say, once they met, they couldn’t stay away from each other – even at the bitter, deadly end.

Kathie Moffat and Jeff Bailey from Out of the Past (1947)

For a while, it looked like these crazy kids just might be able to make a go of it. But when Jeff’s ex-partner Fisher showed up and Kathie put a bullet in him – well, that pretty much spelled curtains for the relationship.

— “We’re both rotten.”

Phyllis Dietrichson and Walter Neff from Double Indemnity (1944)

I’m not sure these two even liked each other (no matter how many times he called her “baby.”). But you can’t deny that they made a very effective team. Straight down the line.

Anna Dundee and Steve Thompson from Criss Cross (1949)

Oh, Anna. How could you?

Cora Smith and Frank Chambers from The Postman Always Rings Twice (1946)

I was really rooting for these two, y’all. I mean, they had it all – just like Bogie and Bacall. Starring in their own late, late show, sailing away to Key Largo. Oh, wait . . .

— “You’re strength, excitement, and depravity!”

Helen Brent and Sam Wild from Born to Kill (1947)

Talk about depraved – these two were the walking definition. If anybody deserved each other, it was Helen and Sam.

Debby Marsh and Dave Bannion from The Big Heat (1953)

They weren’t a duo in the usual sense of the word, but I loved them together. They truly had a mutual respect and regard for each other, and I’m glad that Dave was with her at the end. (sniff)

Gilda Mundson and Johnny Farrell from Gilda (1946)

Gilda and Johnny demonstrated on a constant basis that there’s a thin line between love and hate. Fortunately for us, they finally got their act together and erased that line.

— “There I go again. Too friendly.”

Bruno Antony and Guy Haines from Strangers on a Train (1951)

They didn’t like each other, and they certainly didn’t have each other’s best interests at heart. But you can’t think of one without the other, can you?

So that’s my top 10 favorite noir duos. Who are yours? And don’t forget to tell us why!

And join me tomorrow for the last day of Noirvember 2023!!

Day 28 of Noirvember: Happy 100th Birthday, Gloria!

I first met her decades ago as a sassy flirt in the 1946 Christmas classic, It’s a Wonderful Life. Since then, Gloria Grahame has become one of my favorite noir femmes, turning in standout performances in a spate of shadowy classics. Grahame was born Gloria Grahame Hallward in Los Angeles, 100 years ago today – I can’t think of a better time or place than to devote my post on Day 28 of Noirvember to this unforgettable femme.

Gloria was a descendant of royalty – the antecedents of her father, Reginald Michael Hallward, were the Plantagenet kings of England, and her mother, Jean, a former actress, descended from Dougall, King in the south Isles and Lord of Lorn in Scotland. Following in her mother’s footsteps, Gloria made her stage debut at the age of nine, playing a fairy in The Bluebird. In the late 1930s, to give Gloria an opportunity to seek an acting career, her family moved to Hollywood, where she enrolled at the Guy Bates Post School of Dramatic Art and later at Hollywood High School.

In spring 1942, Gloria appeared in a senior class play and was noticed by the critic for the Citizen News, who wrote that she had “all the proper curves in all the proper places, plus a pair of legs that made the movie makers at the senior play goggle their eyes.” Her performance also caught the attention of Howard Lang, producer of the road company of Good Night, Ladies, who offered Gloria a walk-on and understudy role in his play. Arranging to complete her high school degree by mail, Gloria accepted the job and toured with the play to San Francisco and Chicago. After the play closed, Gloria and her mother moved to New York, where the budding actress quickly found work as Miriam Hopkins’s understudy in The Skin of Our Teeth and as a 14-year-old ingenue in the out-of-town tryout of Stardust. In this play, Gloria’s understudy was future star Marie Windsor, who later said, “Gloria and I became friends. I liked her and she always seem a little nicely off-the-wall to me.”

A short time later, Gloria would be handed the break that she’d been patiently awaiting. In her role as a saucy barmaid in A Highland Fling, she was spotted by a talent agent from MGM’s New York office and was signed to a seven-year contract, starting at $250 a week. Her last name, which sounded “too theatrical” to MGM execs, was dropped, and Gloria Grahame was born. She made her film debut a few months later as a flirtatious maid in Blonde Fever (1944), starring Mary Astor. Her third feature film was It’s a Wonderful Life, and the following year, she entered the realm of film noir. She would go on to appear in numerous noirs, including In a Lonely Place (1950), Human Desire (1954), and Odds Against Tomorrow (1959), but my favorites are Sudden Fear (1952) and The Big Heat (1953).

Sudden Fear (1952)

This feature stars Joan Crawford as Myra Hudson, a San Francisco heiress and playwright whose world is rocked when she learns that her adored new husband, Lester (Jack Palance), not only has a chick on the side, but that he and his lover are plotting her imminent demise. Grahame played Irene Nieves, the lover, and she is a standout from the second she appears on screen. Irene is the embodiment of the type of character I love to hate, and she has no qualms about carrying on with a married man. In fact, she and Lester had a thing back in the day and she actually followed him to San Francisco when she learned of his wedding. And speaking of qualms, they were also in short supply when it came to plotting with Lester to kill Myra before her new will could be signed. “Suppose she isn’t able to sign it on Monday? Suppose something happened to her between now and Monday – who’d get her money?” Irene queries. “Lester, I have a gun.”

The Big Heat (1953)

Glenn Ford stars in this film as Dave Bannion, an honest cop who finds himself up against the local mob and his own police force when he tries to find out who was behind the murder of his wife. As Debby Marsh, Grahame was the girlfriend of brutish gangster Vince Stone (Lee Marvin) and started out as a light-hearted, martini-loving gal who was happy just to be in the chips. (“Clothes, travel, expensive excitement – what’s wrong with that? The main thing is to have the money,” she declares. “I’ve been rich and I’ve been poor – believe me, rich is better.”) But when Vince disfigures her by throwing a pot of scalding coffee in her face (a shocking scene that gets me no matter how many times I see it), Debby’s life is changed forever and she winds up being the linchpin that brings “the big heat” to the organized crime organization.

The Big Heat is airing on TCM on Gloria’s birthday, and Sudden Fear can be found for free on YouTube. Why not treat yourself and celebrate her special day by checking out these first-rate Gloria vehicles?

You only owe it to yourself.

And join me tomorrow for Day 29 of Noirvember!

Day 27 of Noirvember: What’s That Guy’s Name – Part 2

— Don Theophilus Beddoe. That’s his name.

As Noirvember 2023 winds down, I thought I’d squeeze in one more entry of “What’s that guy’s name?” Today, I’m taking a look at Don Beddoe, who was one busy dude. During a performing career that spanned seven decades, Beddoe was seen in nearly 200 films; in one year alone, he appeared in a whopping 27 features. Among his credits were 13 films noirs, in which he portrayed everything from a mild-mannered thief to an ill-fated police detective.

It’s known that Donald Theophilus Beddoe was born in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, on July 1st, but the exact year of his birth is a bit of a mystery. Some sources say that the actor was born as early as 1888, while others put his year of birth at 1903. This discrepancy notwithstanding, Beddoe – the son of a prominent oratorio tenor by the same name – spent a number of his early years in London and later earned both his Bachelor’s and his Master’s degrees from the University of Cincinnati.

— That’s the back of Beddoe’s head.

Beddoe taught English for three years on the faculty of his alma mater, and reportedly was interested in pursuing a career in journalism, but he was also drawn to the theater and performed with stock companies in Indianapolis, Philadelphia, and Boston (“I knew from the very outset that I’d never get a part of hold an audience with my looks, so I learned to act,” Beddoe said once). In 1929, the actor made his Broadway debut and was later seen in such productions as Penny Arcade (1930), which launched James Cagney’s screen career; Man Bites Dog (1933) with Dennie Moore and Victor Killian; and The Blue Widow (1933), featuring Queenie Smith. Most of Beddoe’s plays were flops, but he hit the jackpot with The Greeks Had a Word for It (1930), a comedy that ran for more than 250 performances.

— With Barry Sullivan in Loophole.

After a decade of stage work, Beddoe turned his sights toward Hollywood om the late 1930s; some of his better-known films were Golden Boy (1939), starring William Holden as the violinist-turned-boxer; The Best Years of Our Lives (1946), the award-winning post-WWII drama; The Farmer’s Daughter (1947); with Loretta Young; Carrie (1952), starring Jennifer Jones in the title role; and Pillow Talk (1959), with Doris Day and Rock Hudson.

Beddoe entered the realm of film noir in 1947 with Calcutta and They Won’t Believe Me. His other noirs were Gun Crazy (1950), Southside 1-1000 (1950), Caged (1950), The Enforcer (1951), The Unknown Man (1951), The Racket (1951), Scandal Sheet (1952), Don’t Bother to Knock (1952), The Narrow Margin (1952), Loophole (1954), and The Night of the Hunter (1955). His most memorable performances were in the latter three; in The Narrow Margin, he played a detective who is gunned down while escorting a government witness from her home; in Loophole, he portrayed an unassuming bank teller who steals nearly $50,000 from his job and allows a co-worker to take the rap; and in The Night of the Hunter, he was Walt Spoon, the gullible ice cream parlor owner who is taken in by the evil would-be preacher played by Robert Mitchum.

— Walter Spoon. Too trusting for his own good.

In addition to his film career, Beddoe was a frequent presence on the small screen, guesting on a variety of popular shows, from The Lone Ranger in the 1950s to Highway to Heaven in 1984. He also supplemented his income with a successful second career in real estate.

Beddoe was married twice; he was with his first wife, Evelyn, for 31 years, until her death in 1974. Later that year, he married again, this time to Joyce Mathews, an actress whose five husbands included Billy Rose and Milton Berle. Joyce and Beddoe remained married until his death in 1991.

Depending on which source you believe, the actor was anywhere from 88 to 102 years old at the time of his death.

Join me tomorrow for Day 28 of Noirvember!

Day 26: Sunday Words of Noir

It’s the last Sunday of Noirvember 2023, y’all – why not celebrate with one final batch of those awesome noir lines . . .

“There are only three ways to deal with a blackmailer. You can pay him and pay him and pay him until you’re penniless. Or you can call the police yourself and let your secret be known to the world. Or you can kill him.” – Edward G. Robinson in The Woman in the Window (1944)

“What I like about you is you’re rock bottom. I wouldn’t expect you to understand this, but it’s a great comfort for a girl to know she could not possibly sink any lower.” – Barrie Chase in Cape Fear (1962)

“In Italy, for thirty years under the Borgias they had warfare, terror, murder and bloodshed, but they produced Michelangelo, Leonard Da Vinci and the Renaissance. In Switzerland, they had brotherly love, they had five hundred years of democracy and peace – and what did they produce? The cuckoo clock.” – Orson Welles in The Third Man (1949)

“Don’t your nose get sore, sticking it all the time in other people’s business?” – Myrna Dell in Nocturne (1946)

“She looked like a very special kind of dynamite, neatly wrapped in nylon and silk. Only I wasn’t having any. I’d been too close to an explosion already. I was powder-shy.” – Robert Young in They Won’t Believe Me (1947)

“I ain’t afraid of cops. I was brought up to spit whenever I saw one.” – Bessie Clary in Laura (1944)

“Sure, I shot him. I’m not sorry about that.” – Jane Greer in Out of the Past (1947)

“If this were fiction, I would fall in love with Vera, marry her, and make a respectable woman out of her. Or else she’d make some supreme, Class A sacrifice for me – and die.” – Tom Neal in Detour (1945)

“Kiss me, Mike. The liar’s kiss that says I love you and means something else.” – Gaby Rodgers in Kiss Me Deadly (1955)

“I never confuse business with sentiment. Unless it’s extremely profitable, of course.” – Clifton Webb in The Dark Corner (1946)

Join me tomorrow for Day 27 of Noirvember!

(A version of this post first appeared in my Noir Nook column on the Classic Movie Hub website.)

Day 25 of Noirvember: Love that Walter

Whenever I think and talk and write about film noir, I have a tendency to focus on the distaff characters: the Phyllis Dietrichsons, the Kathie Moffats, the Gildas and the Lauras and the Mildreds.

For today’s Noirvember post, I’m giving the gents a much-deserved nod and shining the spotlight on one of my favorite noir fellas: Walter Neff (Fred MacMurray) in Double Indemnity (1944).

Since Double Indemnity is my favorite film noir, it stands to reason that I would be especially fond of its characters – and insurance salesman Walter is no exception. On the surface, Walter appears to be a good guy – a little smart-alecky, perhaps, with an eye for the ladies, and maybe just a little bit bored. But it may just be his boredom, his desire for a little excitement in his humdrum life, that not only led Walter into an affair with one of his very married clients, Phyllis Dietrichson (Barbara Stanwyck), but also to conspire with her to murder her spouse and collect a cool ten grand from a double indemnity accident insurance policy.

From the very start, Walter proves himself to be shrewd, intelligent, and unflappable. When, shortly after their second meeting, Phyllis none-too-subtly reveals her desire to get rid of her husband, Walter quickly sees through her artifice. He even wisely makes a rapid exit, after asking her, “Who’d you think I was anyway? The guy that walks into a good looking dame’s front parlor and says, ‘Good afternoon, I sell accident insurance on husbands. You got one that’s been around too long? One you’d like to turn into a little hard cash?’ Boy, what a dope you must think I am.”

But Walter was no dope. Although he later allowed himself to be wooed by Phyllis’s considerable wiles, it was Walter who took control – planning every step of the intricately designed crime, from secretly securing Mr. Dietrichson’s signature on the insurance policy, to making the murder appear as an accident, to setting himself up with an airtight alibi once the deadly deed was done. Even when his best-laid plans started to unravel, Walter didn’t lose his cool. He first cozied up to Phyllis’s stepdaughter, Lola (Jean Heather), in an effort to allay her justifiable suspicions. Then, after realizing that Phyllis was stepping out on him with Lola’s ex-boyfriend, Nino Zachetti (Byron Barr), Walter simply amended his original plan to include a new twist: kill Phyllis and pin the crime on the new guy.

Walter did manage to take one brief detour before resuming his irreversible descent into criminality and malevolence – instead of allowing Nino to take the fall for Phyllis’s murder, Walter had a change of heart and let the would-be sucker off by giving him a nickel and suggesting that he give Lola a call: “She’s in love with you,” Walter tells him. “Always has been. Don’t ask me why. I couldn’t even guess.” After that last good deed, though, all bets were off.

Outwardly upright, with an undeniable immoral bent, Walter Neff was a fascinating, unforgettable noir character. Unlike the experience of many a noir everyman who was led astray by a scheming woman, Walter’s relationship with Phyllis simply turned out to be the key that unleashed the inner villain that was lurking deep inside him all the time.

And how can you not love a guy like that?

(A version of this post originally appeared in my Noir Nook column on the Classic Movie Hub website.)

Join me tomorrow for Day 26 of Noirvember!

Day 24 of Noirvember: Ten Things You May Not Know About The Asphalt Jungle (1950)

Of all of the noirs I’ve seen in my lifetime, one of the absolute best, in my estimation, is The Asphalt Jungle (1950). It has so much going for it – a stellar ensemble cast, hard-hitting dialogue, a simple but riveting story, and a perfect noir ending.

Helmed by John Huston, the film focuses on an intricately planned jewelry heist involving a motley crew of criminals. The mastermind is Erwin “Doc” Reidenschneider (Sam Jaffe), who has recently been released from prison and is determined to carry out one last job. With the help of a skittish bookie named Cobby (Marc Lawrence), Doc assembles a team comprised of Gus Minissi, the getaway driver (James Whitmore), safecracker Louis Ciavelli (Anthony Caruso), and Dix Handley (Sterling Hayden), a “hooligan” to serve as the muscle of the group. Also on hand is Alonzo Emmerich (Louis Calhern), an attorney who’s responsible for fencing the stolen jewels. On the distaff side, we have Doll Conovan (Jean Hagen), who is hopelessly devoted to Dix, and Angela Phinlay (Marilyn Monroe), Emmerich’s mistress (who creepily calls him “Uncle Lon”).

Today’s Noirvember post celebrates this first-rate offering from the film noir era by serving up 10 things you may not have known about this famous film.

1. The film received nearly universally rave reviews upon its release.

However, notoriously acerbic New York Times critic Bosley Crowther still managed to throw some shade on the production. While acknowledging that director John Huston had “filmed a straight crime story about as cleverly and graphically as it could be filmed,” he maintained that the picture was “corrupt” because it encouraged the audience to “hobnob with a bunch of crooks . . . and actually sympathize with their personal griefs.”

2. Asphalt Jungle marked the big-screen debut of Strother Martin.

He would later appear in such films as True Grit (1969) and Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (1969), along with a slew of TV shows, but he may be best known for telling Paul Newman that “what we have here is failure to communicate” in Cool Hand Luke (1969). An excellent swimmer and diver, Martin won the National Junior Springboard Division Championship at the age of 17, attended the University of Michigan as a member of the diving team, and served in the U.S. Navy as a swimming instructor during World War II. After he moved to California to become an actor, he worked for a time as a swimming instructor to Marion Davies and the children of Charlie Chaplin.

3. John Huston’s first choice to play the part of Angela was Lola Albright, who was not available.

According to Albright’s filmography, she appeared in five films in 1950, the year The Asphalt Jungle was released; perhaps this is why she wasn’t available. She is perhaps best known for playing singer Edie Hart, the girlfriend of TV private eye Peter Gunn.

4. The wife of Louis Ciavelli was played by Teresa Celli.

She was born Teresa Levis in Dysart, Pennsylvania, but her family moved to Italy after her father inherited an estate there. Teresa took her professional name from her great-grandmother, Duval Celli, an opera singer. While in Italy, Teresa was seen in both opera and dramatic productions. After her return to the United States, she made her radio debut on NBC’s Star Theater with Frank Sinatra, and her first appearance on the big screen was in the 1949 noir Border Incident. Celli was married from 1951 to 1965 to actor Barry Nelson; after The Asphalt Jungle, she appeared in only three more films.

5. Helene Stanley portrayed the young lady whose mesmerizing jive dancing leads to Doc Reidenschneider’s downfall.

Born Dolores Diane Freymouth, Stanley’s screen debut came at the age of 14 when she appeared in Girls Town (1942). She served as the live-action reference for Disney’s Cinderella (1950), Princess Aurora in Sleeping Beauty (1959), and Anita, the young wife in 101 Dalmatians. In a bit part in All the King’s Men (1949), she played John Derek’s girlfriend, who is killed in a car crash with the drunken Derek at the wheel. She has only two lines (“Come on, Tommy, let’s go faster! Come on!”), and then she’s seen lying on the side of the road after the accident. Stanley was also married to low-level mobster Johnny Stompanato from 1953 to 1955. Three years after their divorce, Stompanato was stabbed to death in the home of screen star Lana Turner. Stanley later married a Beverly Hills physician and retired from show business after the birth of her son in 1961.

6. The film earned four Academy Award nominations, for Best Supporting Actor (Sam Jaffe), Best Director, Best Adapted Screenplay for John Huston and Ben Maddow, and Best Black and White Cinematography for Harold Rosson. (Harold Rosson, incidentally, was the third husband of actress Jean Harlow.) The film was bested in every category – by George Sanders in All About Eve for Best Supporting Actor; Joseph Mankiewicz in All About Eve for both Best Director and Best Adapted Screenplay; and Robert Krasker in The Third Man for Best Black and White Cinematography.

7. Actor Frank Cady, perhaps best known for his role as Mr. Drucker in Green Acres, played a small role in the film’s first scene, where he is viewing a police line-up. He was also seen in small parts in several other noirs, including He Walked By Night (1948), The Crooked Way (1948), D.O.A. (1949), Convicted (1950), and Ace in the Hole (1951).

8. The score for the film was written by Miklos Rozsa, who also wrote the scores for such features as Spellbound (1945), A Double Life (1947), and Ben-Hur (1959). In Asphalt Jungle, however, his melodic composition was used sparingly and was only heard for about six minutes in the entire film.

9. The film was based on a 1943 novel by W.R. Burnett, who also wrote the source novels for numerous films, including Little Caesar (1931), High Sierra (1941), Nobody Lives Forever (1946), and Yellow Sky (1948).

10. Several internet sources, including the Internet Movie Database, state that Asphalt Jungle marked the big-screen debut of Jack Warden.

I beg to differ, however. Try as I might, on numerous occasions, I have never spotted him. Warden was, however, the star of the 1961 TV series by the same name. Also, there is an actor in the film – James Seay – who bears more than a passing resemblance to Warden. I suspect that the resources have either confused Warden with his association with the television series or mistaken him for Seay. Or possibly both.

And that’s it! I hope this list contained at least a few tidbits that you didn’t already know. Join me tomorrow for Day 26 of Noirvember! We’re into the home stretch, y’all . . .

(A version of this post first appeared in my Noir Nook column on the Classic Movie Hub website).