By the Skin of Your Teeth

Arguably one of the most scandalous narratives to come out of the pre-code era, Alfred E. Green’s notorious 1933 romantic drama Baby Face was one of the films that was so very controversial that it ended up giving the Motion Picture Production Code (Hays Code) its bite – the reigning moral guide for the next thirty plus years. With a story from Darryl F. Zanuck (yes, the powerhouse studio head of 20th Century Fox – written under his pseudonym, Mark Canfield), the story follows Lily Powers (Barbara Stanwyck), aptly described by the bawdy tagline – “she had it and made it pay”.

Imagine the scenario: a striking woman gets rolled into the hospital – an attempted suicide; a shapely mystery for a young doctor – with windswept hair and eyes that are as mesmerizing as a pool of slowly moving water. . . when he finally revives her, they look at each other. . . and time stops! Take one quick glance at the poster for Where Danger Lives, a thrilling 1950 film noir written by Charles Bennett (a man known to work with Hitchcock quite often in his earlier days – think The 39 Steps and Foreign Correspondent) and directed by John Farrow (Around the World in 80 Days and father of Mia), and you’ll know. . . the pair are in for quite the tempestuous roller coaster ride of a love affair.

You’ve gotta love a great film noir opening: “I’m Collier Bonnabel. I’m a cop. I’m a lieutenant detective in, uh, Homicide. That’s a fancy name for murder. We get plenty of tough cases. Solved most of them, sure. But how? I only know one way, one thing that breaks them wide open. Tension. I work on people, on suspects. Play up to them. Play up to their strengths, pour it on their weaknesses. Romance them or ignore them. Kiss them. Press them. But whatever way. . . keep stretching them. And when they get stretched so tight they can’t take it any longer: TENSION.” 1949's Tension, directed by John Berry, is narrated by Bonnabel (Barry Sullivan) – a hard-boiled, driven narrative that provides us with an intimate view into the detective’s mind. After this intriguing monologue (in which he speaks directly to the camera while playing with a rubber band), Tension opens with a prototypical film noir shot – a nighttime big city street, neon lights flashing, a pharmacy the main focal point.

A film noir that would fit right into the fabric of twenty-first century television, Mystery Street, directed by John Sturges (The Magnificent Seven), is like an extended episode of CSI (or Criminal Minds), circa 1950 – a novel idea for the time. One of the first movies to be shot on location in Boston, in a way, it is a two pronged tale – demonstrating old-school investigative police work by State Police Lieutenant Peter Morales (Ricardo Montalban) and the avant-garde use of forensics by a Harvard doctor by the name of McAdoo (Bruce Bennett).

A perfect example of ‘you can’t outrun your past, present or future’, 1949's Act of Violence, directed by Fred Zinnemann (High Noon; From Here to Eternity), starts with quite the hook: a man, limp noticeable, hurriedly, and with purpose, makes his way through a city in the clutches of the glum night, eventually entering a room that holds a deadly object – a gun. . . hopping onto a bus, it does not bode well. With a deliberate, unyielding presence, Joe Parkson (Robert Ryan – for another one of his great film noirs, see The Set-Up) is the thing of nightmares. . . a stalking figure in trench coat and fedora – the Michael Myers of the noir genre. Ryan, with his lined face, imposing size, and disturbed demeanor, is an ominous heavy – the enigmatic grunt opening a phone book and circling the name of one Frank R. Enley (Van Heflin).

Taking noir genre tropes and flipping them on their heads, Nicholas Ray’s They Live by Night (1948) challenges the city setting, the cynical detective, the sultry femme fatale, and at every turn, finds a clever way to surprise and intrigue. An intimate look at the lives of outsiders (a Nicholas Ray speciality – think In a Lonely Place; Rebel Without a Cause), three individuals have escaped the confines of prison. . . guys who would easily be picked out of a lineup: one-eyed Chickamaw (Howard Da Silva) – a sinister man, quick to anger when his missing socket is mentioned; monstrous T-Dub (Jay C. Flippen) – though he seems sensible, there is a violent streak hidden just below the face only a mother could love; and baby-faced Bowie (Farley Granger) – the meek getaway driver of the gang.