NOIR CITY 8: PITFALL (1948) / LARCENY (1948)—Eddie Muller's Opening Night Intro

Welcome to the City of Noir.
You stumbled, you fell; but, here you are.
But you'll never be stranded or—worse—caught red-handed
When you're riding along with the Czar.—The "Voice of Noir City" William P. Varney

Eddie Muller, the above-limericked "Czar of Noir", introduced the theme of this year's Noir City: lust and larceny. "Boy," Miller quipped, "was this a big reach in the world of film noir: the two motivating factors in all of human history, right? As Walter Neff said in Double Indemnity: 'I did it for the money. And I did it for a woman. And I didn't get the money and I didn't get the woman. Pretty, isn't it?' Damn pretty, I think."

Noir City's decision to open with a 1948 doublebill of André de Toth's Pitfall and George Sherman's Larceny was because these two films represented "two sides of the coinage" found so often in film noir. On one side of the coin you find films that are grim, despairing and fatalistic (Pitfall), and then you flip that coin over and noir can be chatty, breezy, and damn funny (Larceny).

Both films were written by screenwriter William Bowers, who was hugely in demand in Hollywood during the noir era, had an extraordinary gift for story structure and an unerring ear for great dialogue. "No one wrote better snappy patter in the movies than William Bowers," Muller asserted, "which brings me to my last point this evening: I noticed in some of the press a certain consternation over the behavior of the audiences at Noir City; reactions to certain things in the movies—that being laughter. So, in all seriousness, this has led to—I'm sorry to say—the first house rule that we have actually decided to implement at Noir City." Eddie then had a momentary lapse of memory regarding the house rule and called up to William P. Arney in the balcony: "Bill, are you there? Do you remember what the first house rule of Noir City is?"

Arney responded, "Sure boss. I've got it right here." Booming out: "Enjoy yourself, it's later than you think."

"You're in a movie theater, folks, not a museum," Muller reminded, "and it's fine to appreciate these films the way they were originally appreciated when they were first released: as entertainment."

Thanking his audience for braving the weather and coming out to the opening night of Noir City, Muller added with full sincerity: "This could only happen in San Francisco because you are the smartest, most sophisticated, sexiest moviegoers in the world! Enjoy the show!"

Of related interest: Noir City Index.

Cross-published on Twitch.

NOIR CITY 8—THE ENDLESS NIGHT: A VALENTINE TO FILM NOIR by Serena Bramble

Muller discovered Serena Bramble's Endless Night: A Valentine to Film Noir on YouTube and decided it was the best visceral distillation of film noir he'd ever seen in his life. He was happy about finding it because it restored his faith in the younger generation. He wanted to use it as an introductory trailer to each double-bill at this year's Noir City and—in lieu of an honorarium—offered to buy Serena Bramble a drink next time she was in San Francisco. "That's how I found out she was 20 years old!"

"Next year!" Serena shouted out in promise.

Made by this young psychology student from Santa Rosa—cut on the iMovie that came installed on her laptop—Bramble never once imagined she would see her iMovie projected onto the Castro Theater's huge screen. Muller had encouraged her to attend opening night because he was convinced that—once she saw the film projected on a large screen and witnessed the audience reaction—she would know her calling. Her response at the time was, "Darn. I have to take my driver's test."

Once Eddie situated her in the audience, Serena stood to receive her due applause. Sitting directly behind her, I can vouch that throughout the evening she was congratulated over and over for her shining accomplishment.

Of related interest: Noir City Index.

NOIR CITY 8—CLEO MOORE, "QUEEN OF THE B-MOVIE BAD GIRLS"

"You know, just because you're a blonde type doesn't mean you can't suddenly do serious parts."—Cleo Moore.

Noir City knows that bad girls drive San Franciscans wild! Doesn't matter if you're straight, gay, male or female, or anywhere inbetween, above or below: we love our women blonde, buxom, breathtaking and baaaaad! So to satisfy our (ahem!) peninsular obsessions, this year's edition of Noir City revives their immensely popular "Bad Girls of Film Noir" with a double-bill highlighting Cleo Moore: One Girl's Confession (1953) and Women's Prison (1955).

Noir City caught my attention immediately by describing Moore as a curvaceous vixen "who carved a niche for herself as the Poor Man's Marilyn Monroe in a series of tawdry (but oh so enjoyable) sex-driven potboilers." Hal Erickson concurs at All Movie Guide: "Bleach-blonde leading lady Cleo Moore can be described as Marilyn Monroe without the class. Though very likely a nice person in real life, Moore specialized in playing vulgar, conniving trollops; one could practically smell the cheap perfume whenever she swiveled onscreen. After an uncharacteristic film debut as a serial heroine in 1948's Congo Bill, Moore became the favorite leading lady of actor/director Hugo Haas, who churned out picture after picture in which he played an older man ruined by Moore's seductive charms. Retiring from filmmaking in 1957, Cleo Moore entered politics, making an unsuccessful bid for the governor's chair in her home state of Louisiana."

"Cleo" was born Cleouna Moore on Halloween 1928 in Baton Rouge, the capital of Louisiana and raised by her contractor father Murphy Moore in nearby Gonzales, Louisiana, where she graduated from high school in 1941. In 1944 at the age of 15 she eloped with Palmer Long, the youngest son of the assassinated Governor of Louisiana, Huey Pierce Long. Their marriage only lasted six weeks but later provided her ample publicity fodder for her tongue-in-cheek gubernatorial bid for the state of Louisiana.

In 1946 she moved with her family to Southern California and began a successful building construction enterprise with her father. In May 1949 she was heralded as "Miss Plastic Art", posing in a costume made entirely of plastic, from the orchid in her hair down to the tips of her gloves, illustrating the variety of plastic arts to be displayed at the California Hobby Show, held at Shrine Convention Hall, May 27.

An ardent boxing fan, Moore was allegedly "discovered" in 1950 by an RKO talent scout while attending a fight at the Hollywood Legion Stadium. She began attracting press through pin-up and modeling work: severing a tire chain to open up a new Pep Boys store in Van Nuys, California and posing in the sensuous "Riviera Peasant Blouse". Her nights on the town with various men began to provide copy for Hollywood columnists.

Her actual film debut, however, was in the double role of Ruth Carver and Queen Lureen, the white ruler of a forbidden valley in Africa, in the 15-chapter 1948 movie serial Congo Bill produced by Columbia's Sam Katzman. She then worked for Warner Bros. in 1950 and for RKO Radio Pictures in 1950–52 before signing with Columbia Pictures in 1952. She first gained attention as the doomed gun moll Myrna Bowers in Nicholas Ray's film noir On Dangerous Ground (1951).

Moore began starring in films in 1952. Her films include One Girl's Confession (1953), Women's Prison (1955), Hold Back Tomorrow (1955), Over-Exposed (1956) and Hit and Run (1957). She often starred in films directed by actor/director Hugo Haas and appeared opposite John Agar, Richard Crenna, Vince Edwards, and Robert Ryan among other actors.

During this period Moore was one of several buxom blondes to achieve notability following Marilyn Monroe's major breakthrough, the others including Jayne Mansfield, Mamie Van Doren, Diana Dors, Sheree North, and Barbara Nichols. In the mid 1950s Columbia considered starring Moore in a film biography on Jean Harlow's life but the project never got off the ground. There's no doubt she would have been perfectly suited for the role as her screen persona—like Harlow's—was that of an ambitious and predatory blonde out to get everything she can out of life and out of a man. One magazine article defined her film noir bad girl persona as "ruthless" and "amoral" and wryly quipped that in such movies the bad girl "usually ended up dead or in jail, or worse, reformed."

Moore made headlines with several publicity stunts, notably a scandalous five minute kiss with Jack Eigen on live Chicago television in February 1954. Eigen was a well-known radio disc jockey and TV veteran for ABC affiliate WBKB. Moore was on his show to promote her latest film Bait (1954) and the topic of movie censorship and the imposed limits on film kisses surfaced. He suggested that they "go for the record" on live TV as an alleged experiment to test the reaction of his TV audience. Though they sat in separate chairs and the kiss was mild, Eigen was fired after protests from hundreds of women viewers charged him with "vulgarity, coarseness, and bad taste." Eigen said at the time: "I have no guilty conscience. I have been happily married for 18 years, and my wife knew what I planned for the program. If she had thought there was anything unladylike or rude about it, she would have told me." Moore added that the kiss "certainly was not intended to be offensive. I am sorry that this all came about because I wouldn't want anyone to lose his job." Notwithstanding, Moore milked the incident for publicity until gossip columnist Louella Parsons declared "enough already" in her Modern Screen column, gently chiding Moore by stating she was "too pretty, too talented, and too smart" to allow her publicists to continually push the Jack Eigan kissing scandal. But perhaps not. In 1955 she and a New Orleans newspaper reporter repeated the stunt, claiming a new record with a 6.5 minute kiss.

"Whatever she lacked in acting talent, she made up for with her talent for outlandish publicity stunts, ala Jayne Mansfield and Mamie Van Doren" claims Java's Bachelor Pad who—along with the Eigen scandal—emphasized Moore's famous feud with fellow (and more famous) pin-up and movie star Anita Ekberg. "The Swedish Ekberg made the comment that American women were immature and childish," Java writes, so "Moore went on a media crusade (mostly to help her own career) to prove that American women could measure up, in every sense." Java's Bachelor Bad has replicated a rather amazing article "The Great Glamazon Gambit" published in the August 1961 issue of Modern Man (Vol. 11, No. 12). This "curves 'n quotes contest" is a must-read!

One of my favorite quotes by Cleo: "I made a number of pictures, strictly C-pictures that were done on small budgets with a crackerjack director and actor who's now dead, Hugo Haas. Anything I learned about the fine art of acting I learned from Hugo. We made one film called Thy Neighbor's Wife [1953] in which I got flogged at the public whipping post for adultery. I did my best acting in that film, I guess." True to form, when asked who were the most interesting men they knew, Moore responded, "Brando, Holden, and newspaper reporters who want to interview me." Ekberg: "Any man with a by-line, magazine or newspaper."

Moore was named the honorary city siren of Tarzana, California in 1954 and crowned "Miss Billboard" in Las Vegas, Nevada in 1955. Admittedly, these were the various worthless beauty titles starlets received to obtain publicity. "I've found that before you become a star you have to spend a few years being Miss Ping Pong," she once commented.

The positive side of being consigned to bit parts in low-budget films was that Moore had plenty of time to pursue personal interests. As reported in Films of the Golden Age: "She began a successful building construction enterprise with her father Murphy Moore and developed her skills as an artist. A portrait she did of Jack Benny was unveiled when the comedian was inaugurated as Abot of the Friars Club in 1954 and she also reportedly did incidental art for the poster of one of her films, Thy Neighbor's Wife."

In the Summer of 1955 she went on a 60-city tour to ballyhoo Women's Prison. In Houston, the red-blooded Texans nearly tore her clothes off when a dozen boys, aged 16 or 17, wanted to be kissed by her and pulled a ruffle off her blouse as a souvenir. Of related interest, Moore noted this had become a problem when she traveled. "Ever since that Jack Eigen kiss incident, people don't ask me for my autograph any more. They want a lip print for their autograph books. I'm a sport; I go along. So I end up using about ten tubes of lipstick a day. I've even had to buy a darker kind than I prefer to wear in order to make a better print."

In 1960, Moore announced her intention to run for governor of Louisiana. "I was married to Huey Long's son for six weeks," she explained, "and while that doesn't make me an authority on politics, I know a lot about Louisiana. Matter of fact, I'm related to 50 per cent of the people down there. I'm sure I stand a good chance of getting elected." Elsewhere, she stated that she wanted to become "a political Florence Nightingale" and that any great politician had to be a great actor. If elected, she promised more rights for women, but asserted that all her right-hand men would be men. Although this was a mere publicity stunt, and Moore never actually ran for governor, it became so firmly implanted in her press copy that the New York Times stated it as fact in her obituary, as does Hal Erickson at All Movie Guide.

Moore had three sisters: Mari, Voni, and Jonnie. Mari followed in her footsteps and briefly pursued acting under the name of Mara Lea. She had a bit part in One Girl's Confession and a minor role alongside her sister Cleo in Hit and Run.

Moore found success as a businesswoman and real estate developer after her screen career ended in the late 1950s. She embarked on a million-dollar sports center in the San Fernando Valley and ran a profitable petticoat factory. "They have 100 machines going and can't fill the orders," she boasted to reporters. In 1961 she married real estate mogul Herbert Heftler, who she met while making an industrial film (her last professional work as an actress), giving birth to a daughter two years later. In October 1973, at the early age of 48, Cleo Moore died as Cleouna M. Heftler from a heart attack in Inglewood, California.

There are a few notable online fan sites for Moore. One of the most enjoyable is an entry at Glamour Girls of the Silver Screen where a narrative timeline has been assembled from gossip pieces published in various Hollywood screen magazines, which I acknowledge as the source for most of the above biography. Angel Fire likewise has several pages devoted to Moore, including a publicity profile written by Al Hortwits, Director of Publicity at Columbia Studios, wherein he describes her as "a canary blonde." There's also a condensed version of an article on Moore that appeared in Films of the Golden Age, which valiantly defended her against accusations of being a "Marilyn Monroe wannabe." The article asserts: "This is an unfair characterization particularly in Cleo's case as she entered films the same year as Marilyn and even beat the more famous blonde into the pages of LIFE magazine by almost a year. She never mimicked Marilyn in any of her films, never copied any of her cheesecake poses or wore similar dresses." The article adds: "Unlike many of her contemporaries, Cleo felt no hostility toward Marilyn. In fact, she once named Marilyn one of her three favorite movie stars, along with Marlon Brando and Joan Crawford." Angel Fire has also replicated Moore's wire service obituary.

Brian's Drive-in Theatre (one of my all-time favorite sites) fills in the gaps in her early RKO career: "By 1950, she had become a starlet at RKO Studios, which installed her in several film noir classics, such as This Side of the Law and Gambling House. She also appeared in two 1950 short-feature westerns with Tim Holt: Dynamite Pass and Rio Grande Patrol."

In coming weeks The Evening Class will be offering several photo galleries of Cleo Moore, but, until then, Brian's Drive-in Theatre, Java's Bachelor Pad and Fanpix have substantial offerings.




Of related interest: Noir City Index.

Cross-published on Twitch.

NOIR CITY 8—LUST & LARCENY

For cinephiles, this is certainly the season to rejoice because—as we near the winter solstice and the return of the light—our favorite local institutions are announcing their upcoming calendars. Not that Noir City requires much light, however. In fact, one might argue this is one particular film festival that downright thrives on the dark.

Returning to San Francisco's majestic Castro Theatre for ten days, January 22–31, 2010, the theme for this eighth incarnation of the world's most popular noir film series is part and parcel of classic noir: "Lust and Larceny." (Superman—at least his unshaven Red Kryptonite doppelganger—would be proud of such double Ls!)

Within the theme of Lust and Larceny, Noir City 8 will include double features showcasing the work of screenwriter Bill Bowers, directors Robert Siodmak and Robert Parrish, actors John Garfield, Richard Widmark, Marilyn Monroe, and skating star Belita.

More guest stars are expected when Noir City 8 presents the first public screening of the Film Noir Foundation's latest preservation project: a completely restored version of the fabulous 1951 noir Cry Danger, starring Dick Powell, Rhonda Fleming, and Dick Erdman.

Other Highlights include Sony Home Entertainment's co-presentation of "Bad Girls Night" to celebrate its upcoming DVD box set Bad Girls of Film Noir. Grover Crisp, Sony's Vice President of Asset Management and Film Restoration, will attend—along with a bevy of bad girls. So many fans turn out for the bad girl movies that Noir City has decided to make it a regular part of the annual program.

The festival's always popular "San Francisco Night" returns with two fresh entries: Red Light (1949) and Walk a Crooked Mile (1948), both set in the city by the Bay—as is Escape in the Fog (1945), a rare Budd Boetticher-directed B film playing on the festival's final day.

Friday, January 22 (Double Bill Bowers)

7:30, Pitfall (1948) Dir. André De Toth, archival 35mm print—This independently produced gem is the most realistic exploration of adultery produced in 1940s Hollywood. Bored suburbanite Dick Powell drifts into a dalliance with hard-luck model Lizabeth Scott, only to find his life and family threatened by an obsessive private eye and a jealous ex-con. Director de Toth had the gifted Bill Bowers rewrite the script. The result is truly believable noir—a wrenching tale of repressed lust and suburban ennui. Restored print courtesy the UCLA Film and Television Archive. Not available on DVD.

9:30, Larceny (1948) Dir. George Sherman, brand new 35mm print—John Payne and Dan Duryea play dandy grifters bent on bilking a wealthy war widow (Joan Caulfield). Both are tangled up with saucy Shelley Winters, who's more dangerous than a loaded .38. The cast has a field day firing Bowers's one-liners faster than speeding bullets. We screened this riotously entertaining, little-known gem in 16mm at Noir City 4, and now it’s back for an encore . . . in a BRAND NEW 35mm print courtesy Universal Pictures. Not available on DVD.

Saturday, January 23, Matinée (Robert Siodmak Tribute)

1:00 & 4:20, Fly-By-Night (1942) Dir. Robert Siodmak—An entertaining "cheapie" about an in-his-cups writer (Chester Morris) who pitches his skeptical publisher an ingenious "locked room" mystery ... only to have the crime come true. The law jumps right on his trail as the prime suspect! Martin (Detour) Goldsmith's script is particularly amusing for its backhanded take on crime writing. Not available on DVD.

2:30, Deported (1950) Dir. Robert Siodmak—For one of his last Hollywood assignments, the great Siodmak (Phantom Lady, Criss Cross) ventured to Italy—with Oscar-winning director of photography William Daniels—to film this thinly veiled tale of mobster Lucky Luciano's enforced return to his roots. Jeff Chandler plays "Vic Smith" in this ultra-rarity, the hardest to find of Siodmak's American films. Luciano, a big fan of Siodmak's classic noir The Killers, reportedly demanded a cameo role in the film! Not available on DVD.

Saturday, January 23, Evening

(Bowers & Parrish: The Big Combo)

7:30, Cry Danger (1951) Dir. Robert Parrish, newly restored—One of the most wicked and witty revenge yarns of the original film noir era. When we showed it in 2007 we had to screen star Dick Powell's personal 16mm print; no 35mm copies existed. We're thrilled to "re-premiere" this terrific film—Parrish's debut as a director—in a brand-new restoration, courtesy the Film Noir Foundation and the UCLA Film and Television Archive. It costars the ravishing Rhonda Fleming and the redoubtable Richard Erdman, one of the great wisecrackers of all time. Thanks to all the Noir City supporters and Film Noir Foundation donors who made this restoration possible! Not available on DVD.

9:30, The Mob (1951) Dir. Robert Parrish—On the heels of their Cry Danger success, Bowers and Parrish were contracted by Columbia Pictures to craft a hard-hitting crime picture for Oscar-winner Broderick (Born Yesterday) Crawford. The tale of an undercover cop (Crawford) infiltrating a waterfront labor racket was a huge hit and a forerunner to 1950s crime exposes, subsequently overshadowed by the higher-pedigreed On the Waterfront (1954). The Mob stands as a terrific film in its own right, featuring early work from actors Charles Bronson, Neville Brand, and Ernest Borgnine. Not available on DVD.

Sunday, January 24 (Marilyn Noir)

1:00, 5:10, 9:30, Niagra (1953) Dir. Henry Hathaway—"Niagara Falls and Marilyn Monroe—The Two Most Electrifying Sights in the World!" screamed the studio's ads for this sexually charged Technicolor noir. Monroe is a too-hot-to-handle wife who enflames her husband's jealousy during a vacation at the famous falls ... with murderous results. Joseph Cotten, Jean Peters, and one of the world's majestic natural wonders all play second fiddle to Marilyn, whose larger-than-life allure still leaps off the screen 56 years after this film was originally released.

2:50, 7:15, The Asphalt Jungle (1950) Dir. John Huston—The gold standard of "caper" films. John Huston brings a neorealist feel to his version of W. R. Burnett's classic crime novel, and a remarkable cast vividly brings to life the book's rogues' gallery of crooked characters. It stars Sterling Hayden and Jean Hagen and a trio of the finest supporting performances ever from Louis Calhern, Sam Jaffe, and Marc Lawrence. Huston also gets credit for being the first to exploit the extraordinary on-screen sex appeal of Marilyn Monroe; this was the film that launched her meteoric rise to stardom.

Monday, January 25 (Belita, Ice Queen of Noir)

7:30, Suspense (1946) Dir. Frank Tuttle—The most lavish, expensive ($1 million!) production ever created by Monogram Pictures was tailored to the talents of young British ice skating sensation Belita, whose brief Hollywood career coincided with the rise of film noir, making her literally the genre's "Ice Queen." Barry Sullivan is her costar in this James M. Cain-styled story of lust and murder, set against the backdrop of a skating revue, which provided the star with several show-stopping routines. Quirky, crazy, and totally unique! Not available on DVD.

9:30, The Gangster (1947) Dir. Gordon Wiles—Based on Daniel Fuchs's novel Low Company. One of the most peculiar noirs of the 1940s stars Barry Sullivan in a riveting performance as a small-time hood who suffers a mental breakdown as his big plans begin to crumble. Beautiful Belita is the slumming society girlfriend who only fuels his paranoia. Director Wiles, normally a production designer and art director, creates an arresting visual corollary for the character's disintegrating psyche. Ultra rare! See it on the big screen while you can! Not available on DVD.

Tuesday, January 26 (John Garfield Tribute)

7:30, The Postman Always Rings Twice (1946) Dir. Tay Garnett—"Their Love Was a Flame That Destroyed!" James M. Cain's 1934 novel—essentially the blueprint for noir—was so hot, and so wrong, it took MGM 12 years to figure out how to put it on the screen, heat intact. It helped to have Lana Turner and John Garfield playing the sex-starved, ill-fated lovers who plot murder. A huge hit in 1946, it remains one of the most revered films in the genre, and the progenitor of a thousand "erotic thrillers" to follow.

9:45, He Ran All the Way (1951) Dir. John Berry—Garfield gives perhaps his most desperate, impassioned performance in this, his final film. Facing nothing but a dead-end life, small-time hood Nick Robey (Garfield) pulls a simple stick-up ... but when he shoots a cop, his life spins out of control. Hiding out, he meets a neighborhood girl (Shelley Winters) who brings him home to meet the family ... whom he holds hostage while plotting his escape. A bitter, blistering film created by a cadre of talents all on the verge of losing their Hollywood careers to the blacklist. Not available on DVD.

Wednesday, January 27 (Bad Girls of Film Noir)

7:30, One Girl's Confession (1953) Dir. Hugo Haas—In the 1950s, actor Hugo Haas became a B-movie auteur, writing, directing, and starring in a series of pulpy tales of amour fou in which a pathetic man (usually Haas himself) is tempted and tormented by a voluptuous vixen. In this edition of Haas's ongoing saga of sadomasochism, the vixen is curvaceous Cleo Moore, who carved a niche for herself as the Poor Man's Marilyn Monroe in a series of tawdry (but oh so enjoyable) sex-driven potboilers. Not available on DVD … yet!

9:15, Women's Prison (1955) Lewis Seiler—All right, it's not really noir, but who can resist a good ol' sleazy women-behind-bars saga, especially one with dishy dames like Jan Sterling, Cleo Moore, and Audrey Totter getting (wo)manhandled by a jealously berserk warden played by Ida Lupino? The setup: The state has built men's and women's prisons side by side, with only a wall keeping the genders apart. Pretty soon, more than license plates are being pounded out. A cellblock of terrific actresses have a field day tearing apart the scenery, and each other. Not available on DVD … yet!

Thursday, January 28 (San Francisco Noir)

7:30, Red Light (1949) Dir. Roy Del Ruth—Witness the resurrection of this incredibly rare, visually stunning "Biblical Noir." San Francisco truck company owner Johnny Torno (George Raft) seeks revenge on the killers of his priest brother, who left a clue to the culprit's identity in a missing bible. It's rife with religious symbolism, packed with indelible supporting players, and features sensational cinematography by Bert (Crime Wave) Glennon and a great score by Dimitri Tiomkin. It took a lot of digging to unearth this 35-millimeter print, so don't miss it! Not available on DVD.

9:15, Walk A Crooked Mile (1948) Dir. Gordon Douglas—When a security leak at an atomic energy plant threatens the safety of the free world, an FBI agent (Dennis O'Keefe) and a Scotland Yard inspector (Louis Hayward) track the spy ring to (where else?) Commie-infested San Francisco. Hint to the feds: Look for the big, shifty guy (Raymond Burr) with the Lenin look-alike goatee. This time capsule of escalating Cold War paranoia is rendered in the once-voguish "semidocumentary" style, providing terrific glimpses of 1948 San Francisco. Not available on DVD.

Friday, January 29 (Richard Widmark Remembered)

7:30, Slattery's Hurricane (1949) Dir. André de Toth—The rarest film of Richard Widmark's early rise to stardom is an uncommonly adult story of infidelity and drug smuggling. Will Slattery (Widmark) is a cynical fighter pilot facing possible court-martial, flying suspicious cargo around the Caribbean. Disasters, both human and natural, result when an old flame (Linda Darnell) comes between Slattery and his loyal gal (Veronica Lake), who has secrets of her own. It's a unique film featuring fresh, innovative direction by the great Andre de Toth. Not available on DVD.

9:30, Pickup On South Street (1953) Dir. Samuel Fuller—Widmark delivers his signature performance in this exceptionally fast and hardboiled tale of a New York pickpocket caught between the commies and the feds, playing both ends against the middle for his own gain. It is perhaps Fuller's most perfectly realized film, featuring Oscar-nominated support from Thelma Ritter and a memorable turn by Jean Peters as a blowsy, brazen B girl. Fuller, a former New York crime reporter, magically turns Fox back lots and studio sets into a vivid depiction of his beloved Big Apple.

Saturday January 30, Matinée (Larceny & Lust)

1:00, 4:30, Inside Job (1946) Dir. Jean Yarbrough—This terse programmer is notable as the final credit of writer-director Tod Browning (Freaks), although he'd written the story years before it was made. Some of his distinctive traits are evident in the tale of newlywed ex-cons (Ann Rutherford and Alan Curtis) forced into a mobster's plan to rob a downtown department store. It's a B movie through and through, but one with clever business peppering a plot that consistently zigs when you expect it to zag. Featuring the stalwart Preston Foster as the dapper gangster. Not available on DVD.

2:25, To Be Announced

Saturday, January 30, Evening

(The Glorious Gloria Grahame)

7:30, Human Desire (1954) Dir. Fritz Lang—You can't really call this a redo of The Postman Always Rings Twice because it's based on Emile Zola's 1890 novel La Bete Humaine. But then, tales of tortured lovers tempted to commit murder are timeless, aren't they? Glenn Ford and Gloria Grahame rekindle their flame from Lang's 1953 smash The Big Heat, and Broderick Crawford plays the loutish cuckold they want to be rid of. Do we need to note that things don't go according to plan? Burnett Guffey supplies the wonderfully atmospheric cinematography. Not available on DVD.

9:30, Odds Against Tomorrow (1959) Dir. Robert Wise—Legendary actor-musician-humanitarian Harry Belafonte starred in and produced this incendiary crime classic. He plays jazz musician Johnny Ingram, whose gambling debts lead him to take part in a bank job with surly racist Earle Slater (Robert Ryan, in a performance both ferocious and sad). The film also features a landmark score by jazz greats John Lewis and the Modern Jazz Quartet, bolstering the tight and tense direction of the great Robert Wise. Unfortunatley, due to an unexpected development beyond everyone's control, Harry Belafonte cannot appear at this year's Noir City festival as originally intended. Mr. Belafonte sends his deepest regrets and fondest regards to the film fans of San Francisco, with whom he was so eager to have shared this special 50th anniversary screening of Odds Against Tomorrow.

Sunday January 31 (Getaway Day)

1:00, 4:50, 7:00, Escape in the Fog (1945) Dir. Budd Boetticher—An army nurse (Nina Foch) is terrified by a fog-shrouded dream in which she witnesses a trio of men committing murder on the Golden Gate Bridge. Good thing it's all a dream ... until the victim asks her out on a date! Settle in with some popcorn for lots of old-fashioned B-movie skullduggery. Director Boetticher, who'd go on to direct some of the greatest Westerns ever, rides briskly over plot holes, camouflaging lapses in logic with loads of atmosphere, and makes the most of star Nina Foch's distinctive appeal. Not available on DVD.

2:25, 8:30, A Place in the Sun (1951) Dir. George Stevens—This sublime adaptation of Theodore Drieser's An American Tragedy is noir to the core, despite the gloss and glamour Paramount ladled on to make it a huge hit. A blue-collar social climber (Montgomery Clift) falls for a gorgeous society debutante (Elizabeth Taylor, at the peak of her beauty), but his plain, prole, and pregnant girlfriend (Shelley Winters) stands in the way of his personal American Dream. It won Oscars for best costumes, score, editing, cinematography, screenplay, and direction, yet somehow lost best picture to An American in Paris.

Of related interest: Noir City Index.

Cross-published on Twitch.

NOIR CITY: CHICAGO—The Evening Class Interview With Eddie Muller

As announced in Eddie Muller's introduction to this year's edition of Noir City, the festival's traveling road show—already situated in Hollywood, Seattle, and Washington, D.C.—will include Chicago to its roster of cities, come Friday. Venued at the Music Box Theatre, Noir City: Chicago will give Muller an opportunity to once again share the stage with Foster Hirsch—who Eddie once quipped has forgotten more about noir than he'll ever know—as well as the legendary Harry Belafonte (in conjunction with a screening of the 1959 film noir Odds Against Tomorrow). By phone, Eddie Muller and I discussed this upcoming event.

* * *

Michael Guillén: Eddie, let's talk a bit about your taking Noir City on the road. Are these programs one-shot events or are they annual?

Eddie Muller: There's no contract with these people to say Noir City must be an annual event. Quite honestly, Michael, repertory cinema these days is not only a year-by-year thing; it's a month-by-month thing it seems. The economy of the festival circuit is such that you can't really count on anything at this point. Noir City has been fortunate in that—in Los Angeles for example—we've been one of the biggest-earning festivals at the Egyptian Theatre each year. Whenever we bring Noir City to a new city, we go in on a trial basis and see how it does. So far, so good. All the venues definitely want Noir City to become an annual event.

Guillén: Speaking of venues, you host Noir City in San Francisco at the Castro Theatre, the Egyptian in Los Angeles, and the Music Box in Chicago. Can you speak to the importance of "fitting" the festival to its venue?

Muller: Certainly. The reason the festival is so hugely successful in San Francisco—and that one far outpaces all the others in terms of attendance—is because of the perfect match between films and venue. In addition to San Francisco being a great film community where people actually believe in going to the movies, there is one main thing required of a venue in order for Noir City to work and that is that they be able to properly present archival films. On the technical end, that is a requirement. One of the things we do—as you obviously understand—is that we show films you can't see anywhere else. A big part of the draw for Noir City is you can't see most of these films on DVD or even in many cases on broadcast TV or cable TV. You need to come to the theater to see these movies; but, in order for that to happen, the venue itself must be certified to show archival prints because in many cases we are showing the only existing print of a movie. When it turns out that the theater is also a wonderful vintage theater like the Music Box in Chicago, that's a bonus. We can market that. We can say, "See these films the way they were originally screened, in a vintage theater that's as close to the movie going experience of 1948 that you can possibly get." We love it when that happens. I'm aware of the venues when we do this because—part of what you have to do to make a festival successful—is to make it a communal experience that people will leave their house for. It has to be something they cannot get at home.

It's so funny, Michael, I feel at times like I am actually living through the exact predicament that the movie business faced in the original film noir era, right? In 1948-1949 they were asking, "How do we make people come to the theater when they can stay home and watch that newfangled damn television?" It's exactly the same thing going on now.

Guillén: So along with adding Chicago to Noir City's national road show, you mentioned in your introduction to this year's San Franciscan edition of Noir City that you're also considering taking it to France?

Muller: That's definite. I'm going to France in October. But that's not technically a Noir City event. I was invited by the Lyon Film Festival to come over and present a rare noir series as part of this year's festival. We're not marketing it as a Noir City event; but, there's a fine distinction. I will certainly be there as a representative of the Film Noir Foundation to advocate that the French come to San Francisco.

Guillén: I think it's great that you're strengthening the axial conversation between France and San Francisco. As a film historian, can you speak a bit about the relationship between film noir and its influence on the nouvelle vague?

Muller: Especially in cinema, and in the genre of literature that I enjoy, there's always been this wonderful relationship between France and the United States. It's not breaking news that the French in many ways understand noir and American hardboiled fiction better than the average American; that's a given at this point. Part of the reason that I've made these in-roads in France—I'm delighted to say—is because the French have embraced my fiction. My two novels [The Distance and Shadow Boxer] have been published in France to some acclaim. What's interesting is that in France I'm known primarily as a novelist and then—what a surprise! Look!—I'm also into film noir and the director of a foundation that promotes film preservation, which is gravy. Whereas in the United States, it's the other way around. Here I'm known as the guy who restores the films and all that and: "Oh, he wrote a novel too? That's interesting!"

Cross-published on Twitch.

SFSFF09—Underworld (1927) Introductory Remarks

I first caught Josef von Sternberg's Underworld (1927) at the Pacific Film Archive von Sternberg retrospective earlier this year accompanied by Judith Rosenberg on piano. I welcomed the opportunity to watch the film again projected on the Castro's giant screen with live piano accompaniment by the indefatigable Stephen Horne for the specific intent of savoring the scene where "Feathers" McCoy (Evelyn Brent) first comes to the attention of "Rolls Royce" Wensel (Clive Brook); namely, by way of an ostrich feather shaken loose from McCoy's outfit, drifting down to Wensel who is sweeping the floor below. Entrances are rarely so insinuating.

Eddie Muller, the "Czar of Noir", had the honors of introducing Underworld to its SFSFF audience. Often asked—in his capacity as the Czar—what he considers to be the first film noir, Muller admitted he rarely answers the question because he considers trying to pin down the first film noir as somewhat an absurd endeavor. Notwithstanding, an ever-expanding roster of scholars continue to sift through pre-1940 films in search of some sort of cinematic missing link to establish a proto-noir precedent. "Here's the deal," Muller punched, "to me, film noir applies to an organic, artistic movement within the business of popular entertainment and it has been more than sufficiently proven that its Hollywood incarnation began in the early 1940s, primarily with two films: the A-list The Maltese Falcon (1941) and a far-less influential—but not insignificant—64-minute B-film called Stranger On the Third Floor made by RKO in 1940." The Maltese Falcon, based on Dashiell Hammett's famous '30s novel popularized the figure of the wisecracking anti-hero up to his ears in an amoral world of greed and avarice. Stranger On the Third Floor introduced to small-scale Hollywood-made crime stories an extravagant expressionism in art direction and cinematography. Both these films, however, are mere touchstones, the progenitors if you will, the exemplars of noir's content and style. The definitive film noir Double Indemnity would not be released until three years later in 1944.

"Having said that," Muller qualified, "I have found—as a person interested in film preservation and film history—that it is great fun and it is invaluable to spur interest in older films by searching for film noir's antecedents. That's why I am here today and happy to introduce 1927's Underworld as a co-presentation of the San Francisco Silent Film Festival and the Film Noir Foundation. Not that I actually believe that Underworld is truly a film noir. It is a gangster picture and it is one of the first of its kind. Some people would argue that 1912's The Muskateers Of Pig Alley by D.W. Griffith or a film in 1915 called Regeneration directed by Raoul Walsh might be the first true depiction of gansters on the movie screen. Be that as it may, I think Underworld is the first example of what society would come to identify as the gangster picture." Structurally, dynamically, and visually, Underworld possesses the elements that have led to the creation of the recently-released Public Enemies. The game hasn't really changed all that much. Honestly speaking, Muller considers such silent films as Sunrise or A Cottage on Dartmour to be "much more noir."

Offering backstory on Underworld in order to provide insight into the moviemaking process and some of the practical and pertinent clues to the roots of film noir, Muller observed that most film historians—especially those enamored with the auteur theory—consider Underworld to be a Josef von Sternberg film. It was the director's third assignment but the first produced with the full support of a major studio, namely Paramount. Underworld was also the first film to display many of the visual flourishes that became Josef von Sternberg's signature. Of even greater historical significance to Muller, however, was that Underworld was the first story credit for Ben Hecht, who would go on to become one of the most prolific and respected screenwriters of Hollywood history, if not the most prolific and respected screenwriter of Hollywood history.

Hecht came to Hollywood in 1925 at the behest of his colleague Herman Mankiewicz (screenwriter for Citizen Kane) who, like Hecht, was a newspaper reporter with literary ambitions. "Mankie"—as he was known—extended an invitation to Ben Hecht in a telegram, which famously included: "Millions are to be made out here and your only competition is idiots. Don't let it get around." Once ensconced in an office at Paramount earning $300 a week, Hecht got a crash course in picture writing from his sarcastic pal. "I wanted to point out to you," Mankiewicz advised, "that in a novel a hero can lay 10 girls and marry the virgin for the finish. In a movie, this is not allowed. The hero, as well as the heroine, have to be virgins. The villain can lay anybody he wants, have as much fun as he wants cheating and stealing, getting rich, and whipping the servants; but, you have to shoot him in the end and—when he falls with a bullet in his forehead—it is advisable that he clutch the Gobelins tapestry on the library wall and bring it down over his head as sort of a symbolic shroud. Also, covered by such a tapestry, the actor does not have to hold his breath while he is being photographed as the dead man." Ben Hecht had an immediate reaction to this advice. To quote: "The thing to do was to skip the heroes and heroines and to write a movie that contained only villains and broads. That way I do not have to tell any lies."

In his 1954 autobiography, A Child of the Century, Hecht explained that, "As a newspaper man I have learned that nice people—the audience—loved criminals, and doted on reading about their love problems as well as their sadism. My movie, grounded on this simple truth, was produced under the title Underworld. It was the first gangster movie to bedazzle the movie fans and there were no lies in it, except for a half dozen sentimental flourishes introduced by its director Joe von Sternberg." Hecht thought so little of von Sternberg's additions that—upon seeing the film—he sent the director a very blunt note via telegram: "You poor ham. Take my name off the picture." Paramount kept Hecht's name on the film and Underworld ended up being nominated for and winning the very first Oscar® ever presented for Best Original Story. Hecht would win again in that category in 1935 for a film called The Scoundrel.

Several years later, Howard Hughes wanted Ben Hecht to write a movie based on the exploits of Al Capone. Hecht was a newspaper man in Chicago and knew the Capone territory very well. Hecht agreed to this with specific conditions. He had to be paid $1,000 per day in cash with the money delivered precisely at 6:00. "In that way," Hecht said, "I stood to lose only a single day's labor if Mr. Hughes turned out to be insolvent." He was not only a good writer, he was a smart businessman. The finished script of Scarface incorporated many elements that Hecht used in Underworld and also brought a pair of midnight visitors to his Hollywood hotel. Muller donned Hecht's persona to tell the tale.

"They entered the room as ominously as any paid movie gangsters; their faces set in scowls and guns bulging under their coats. They had a copy of my Scarface script in their hands. Their dialogue belonged in it.

" 'You da guy who wrote dis?' I said that I was.

" 'We read it.' I enquired as to how they liked it?

" 'We want to ask you some questions.' I invited them to go right ahead.

" 'Is dis stuff in here about Al Capone?'

" 'God, no! I don't even know Al!' They traded some back-and-forth banter about guys Hecht did know in Chicago and then they prepared to leave, satisfied that the script was about 'dem other Chicago gangsters.' But then they stopped in the doorway.

" 'If dis stuff ain't about Al Capone, then why are you calling it Scarface? Somebody will think it's him.'

" 'That's the reason,' I said. 'Al is one of the most famous and fascinating men of our time. If we call the movie Scarface, everyone is going to want to see it, figuring that it's about Al. That's the business that we call showmanship!'

"My visitors pondered this and one of them finally said, 'I'll tell Al.' He started out the door and stopped. 'So who's dis guy Howard Hughes?'

" 'Ah, he's got nothing to do with anything,' I said—finally speaking the truth—'He's just the sucker with the money.'

" 'Okay, den to hell with him.' "

Ben Hecht's fingerprints are all over some of Hollywood's greatest movies—Gone With The Wind, Notorious, Spellbound, Kiss of Death—way too many films to mention. He was also not only a great original screenwriter, but one of the great script doctors in Hollywood. He created in Underworld and Scarface two of the earliest prototypes of what would become film noir. So, despite the antagonism that existed between the writer and director of Underworld, they do represent—as well as any two artists Muller could mention—the two essential facets of what would become film noir: on the one hand, a tough-minded and morally ambiguous view of a world rife with corruption, deceit and betrayal (that would be Ben Hecht's contribution) combined with the spellbinding and seductive visual style that brings a dreadful but romantic sensuality to people moving through light and shadow, which fairly describes all the best films that Josef von Sternberg ever made.

Whether or not Underworld is considered a film noir ultimately doesn't matter, Muller concluded, it remains an absolutely fantastic, influential and significant film.

Cross-published on Twitch.