There are so many things that go into making us who we are as individuals – from our parents and our past experiences, to our job and where we live, with even something as simple as our name becoming a big part of forming our identity as a human being. . . but, if those things are taken away from us, how might someone prove who they are when there is no evidence of what is being claimed. Infusing post-war themes within a kidnapping/murder mystery melodrama with film noir motifs, My Name is Julia Ross (1945), directed by Joseph H. Lewis (Gun Crazy) and based upon the novel “The Woman in Red” by Anthony Gilbert (the pen name of Lucy Beatrice), entraps us in the strange predicament of the titular character. . . though no one is calling her by that name.
Following Julia Ross (Nina Foch) in post World War II London, England, she is in a rather difficult predicament – as she falls behind on her rent, she can find no work no matter how hard she looks. Without a family (other than a briefly mentioned aunt that lives Stateside), it seems fortuitous that she discovers a secretarial job through an agency. . . though oddly, she must promise that she has no other commitments – no boyfriend, family, or other such impediments. . . perhaps a bit of a lie, as her crush Dennis Bruce (Roland Varno) has just returned after his engagement has fallen through.
Agreeing to the live-in job, upon her clearly drugged awakening, she has been moved to a country estate in Cornwall. . . her papers, photos, and clothing all destroyed, replaced with all of the elite dressings of an aristocratic lady named Marion Hughes. Said to be mentally fragile, she is told she is the wife of the rather violent Ralph Hughes (George Macready), the daughter-in-law of overly nice Mrs. Hughes (Dame May Whitty), while she is cared for by lady of the manor Sparkles (Anita Sharp-Bolster), and genteel maid Alice (Queenie Leonard).
Trapped in a castle-like manor with doors that look like they’re prepared for the place to be stormed by the French army, and with the Atlantic Ocean sitting far beneath the damsel-like window of her bedroom. . . in other words, there seems to be no way out. While the people in the surrounding area have seen her blatant attempts to escape and wholly believe she is not right in the mind, there is no doubt that she is trapped between the proverbial rock and a hard place. You know it’s not a good sign when her best friend is a curious black cat. Will Julia fall under the trance of having her life be enveloped by this so-called Marion she is being told she is? Or perhaps her ever growing catatonic state will cause her to go mad? Is there anyone on the outside who could help a woman with no proof that she is who she says she is?
Influenced by the anxieties of women returning to the domicile from the workforce after the end of the war, Julia Ross is the perfect example of this scenario. Suffering a loss of control, freedom, and power, this inexplicable family has her wrapped up tight in a straightjacket of domestication. . . but it’s so much worse. For something afoul is afoot in this gothic abode, and it isn’t simply a kidnapping or desired romance.
Paired with Lewis’ stylistic angles, meandering camera work, lengthy tension building takes, as well as the dynamic shadow and light of cinematographer Burnett Guffey (In a Lonely Place), some of the scenes even feel like they’re from a silent era horror film. All in all, it comes together like an enigmatic puzzle that makes for quite the engaging quick-paced B movie – coming in at a prompt one hour and five minutes.
Shrouding the house in a most eerie atmosphere, My Name is Julia Ross walks a tightrope between horror tingled mystery, a mind-bending melodrama, and existential film noir, creating a most unique and intoxicating psychological motion picture with a lead that in many ways seems like a flip on a femme fatale – in other words, a hard working good girl entangled in a sinister noirish plot. So, take the plunge into this lesser seen film noir, it’s worth knowing its name.