Let's begin March with a few moors, mostly by Robert Siodmak.

The Killing (1956), directed by Stanley Kubrik. This late noir and early Kubrik is a doozy. Sharp contrast lighting, strange angles, dislocations in time, voice over, dark rooms and corridors, a fatal woman, grill work and bars and other premonitions of disaster, a nearly perfect plan, and a great performance from Elisha Cook, Jr. make this a noir to remember. The ending is especially memorable in its lassitude, its last weary sigh that says, "what the hell, the world is a dark place and it is no use trying to turn on the lights." The film's title might refer to the "killing" the main character makes at the racetrack or it might refer to the mayhem that takes place in the apartment where the crooks meet after the robbery. Then again, it may refer to the whole kit and caboodle.

 

The Suspect (1944), directed by Robert Siodmak. This early noir set in 1902 England has Charles Laughton as unassuming Kind Mr. Philip Marshall, a clerk in a tobacco store whose wife is a harridan of the highest pitch. By accident, Philip meets Mary (Ella Raines), and the two become close friends. As unlikely as it seems, the beautiful Mary falls in love with the sensitive Philip. Philip asks for a divorce from his wife, but she refuses. What’s a poor tobacconist to do? Mrs. Marshall (Rosalind Ivan) tumbles down the stairs at home and dies. Philip is now free to mary Mary, and he does so. Life is good. Then inebriate neighbour and layabout Mr. Simmons (Henry Daniell) becomes a thorn when he sets out to blackmail Philip. Philip has to dispose of Mr. Simmons. Meanwhile, Inspector Huxley (Stanley Ridges) of Scotland Yard is on the case, Columbo-style. For Philip and Mary, Canada beckons. Will they make it? Siodmak handles the night time scenes in London well with murky shadows and brooding fog. He also uses interiors well, the stairway, the sofa, the cane wrack. I failed to mention that Philip is kind to children and animals. He is not a murdering type. Nevertheless, he finds himself tangled up in shadow and fog.

 

Robert Siodmak is a director of several top-notch noirs: e.g. The Killers (1946), The Dark Mirror (1946), The Spiral Staircase (1946), The File on Thelma Jordan (1949). He also made Son of Dracula (1943), one of the later Universal horror flicks. As this last one might indicate, Siodmak has a flare for expressionistic cinema. He also discovered certain actors including Burt Lancaster and Tony Curtis, who both turn up in Criss Cross (1947), albeit Curtis's turn is fleeting. Criss Cross is a noir as dark as they come. Lancaster is the sad sack who has fallen for a dame, played by Yvonne de Carlo, who is sure to lead him into a maze of ugliness and disappointment. The oily villain is played by a smooth Dan Duryea. Anyway, as often in noir, family provides a backdrop to the action and family indicates the humanity of the main character. Against the pressures of family, the hero must assert his masculinity, even if this means pursuing his manly ways to oblivion. All this is gritty to the point of cynical. As so often in American cinema and literature, we have love and death leading a man to his less than welcome destiny! And, of course, a heist gone wrong is pivotal.

Cry of the City (1948), directed by noir stalwart Robert Siodmak. The man on the run here is not an innocent. Far from it. Martin Rome (Richard Conte) is an icy cold killer willing to put his family in jeopardy to stay ahead of the cops. At the beginning of the film, Rome is in the hospital with several bullet wounds. Throughout the film he sports a limp to let us know that he is not well and also to let us know he is crippled as a human being. His adversary, Lt. Vittorio Candella (Victor Mature), also comes up wounded later in the film. This is a wounded city, as the film’s title indicates. In these wet dark city streets, things go sour. In this place, people are bent: lawyers, nurses, kids, dames. Rome comes from a Catholic Italian family, and images of the Church are evident throughout. The Church, however, cannot serve to better the lives of these people. As usual with Siodmak, we have darkness drawing down and the beast slouches toward that place of hope, tainting everything on its way. Hope Emerson as the Swedish masseuse, Rose Given, gives an impressive performance as a tough moll. Also making an appearance are Shelley Winters and Debra Paget. This is, perhaps, not as impressive as other Siodmak noirs, but it is worth seeing.

Deported (1950), directed by Robert Siodmak. Vic Smith (Jeff Chandler) is a gangster deported from America to Italy. He has left $500,000, theft money, behind. Of course, a bad guy follows Vic to Italy to claim half, or all, of the stolen money. Of course, Vic meets a swell woman, the widow Countess Christine di Lorenzi (Marta Toren), and falls in love. Of course, we have a good fellow cop pursuing Vic. Of course, we have a friend of Vic’s who proves to be more interested in money than friendship. Of course, we have chases and dark shenanigans and a few dark streets with ominous shadows. This is predictable. The Italian setting is okay, but it shouts out – the setting makes this film different from other noir films of the time. However, it does not. The romance between Vic, an uneducated guy from the streets, and the Countess, a wealthy widow trying to help the poor who do not have enough food, works well enough. Perhaps the opening sequence where we see a gaggle of young boys scrambling to fetch money tossed from the just-docked ship explains things. In this world, one has to scramble, dive, and dart to survive. Not Siodmak’s best, but worth seeing.

 

Kiss of Death (1947), directed by Henry Hathaway. No auteur, but a workmanlike director, Hathaway did films in all the genres. He took the work the studios gave him. In this, he reminds me of Michael Curtiz, although he did not make films that stand with Curtiz's best. He did, however, make a few noirs, Kiss of Death being one of them. Kiss of Death remains a staple of noir mostly for Richard Widmark's portrayal of Tommy Udo, the psychopath. This is Widmark's first film, and he goes all out in his grinning, cackling portrayal of Tommy. He also pushes an elderly lady in a wheelchair down a long set of stairs. This is the scene most viewers remember. Aside from this shocking moment, the film is fairly tame. It tells the story of Nick Bianco (Victor Mature), a crook who decides to squeal to the Assistant DA in exchange for a parole after a jewel heist gone wrong. The plot turns on his testifying against Tommy in Tommy's murder trial. The jury acquits Tommy, and he goes free with a grudge against Nick. Nick's family, his two young daughters and their step mother, are now in danger. The film generates some suspense in the scenes after dark in Nick's home as he and his family wait for Tommy to show up with revenge on his mind. Things go along until finally Nick confronts Tommy or Tommy confronts Nick. Well, they confront each other. Bang bang. Shots ring out on those dark damp city streets. The end.