The front door to an apartment swings open... an unseen figure walks through the living area and approaches a beautiful blonde woman wearing a robe as she walks around the bathroom... he then deliberately empties the barrel of his revolver into her – this is the jarring cold opening to the film noir Illegal (1955), and one thing is for sure, it knows how to grab your attention. Funnily enough, this was the third adaptation of the 1929 play “The Mouthpiece” by Frank J. Collins, following Mouthpiece (1932) and The Man Who Talked Too Much (1940) – and they say movies are remade too much today. Flash to Victor Scott (Edward G. Robinson), a district attorney who is wise to all the angles and is graced with a silver tongue. With an unyielding desire to win (he got it from growing up and fighting his way out of the slums), he argues every case like it is his last.
Like some sort of quirky hybrid of a Dr. Seuss story and an Abbott and Costello comedy sketch transported to the dark alleyway of a film noir, 2019's Word on the Street is a five minute foray into the wacky world of English wordplay. Written and directed by Austin Hillebrecht and Sean Parker, the former plays flat cap wearing Bugsy, a low-level ruffian who has heard that the word on the street is “implication”. Meeting up with fellow criminal Rat (Conor Eifler), the fedora wearing fella claims that it is “insinuation”.
Twisting the twinkling night sky into a harbinger of doom, 1948's Night Has a Thousand Eyes is a classic film noir that delves into the inexplicable realm of parapsychology. Based upon a novel of the same name written by iconic crime scribe Cornell Woolrich (and adapted by Barré Lyndon and Jonathan Latimer), John Farrow (Where Danger Lives; Around the World in 80 Days) directs this intriguing story. Opening in dramatic fashion, we witness a last second rescue of a young woman attempting suicide late one night at a bustling industrial railway depot (a stunning visual sequence).
An overtly cheerful vacation romp to the French countryside. . . until it isn’t, 1946's So Dark the Night, directed by Joseph H. Lewis (Gun Crazy), transforms from unexpected romance to film noir murder mystery in the blink of an eye. Following famous Parisian detective Henri Cassin (Steven Geray), the man is finally getting his long awaited vacation. Though those within the station talk about his recent stress level, the portly, closing-in-on-retirement detective seems in very good spirits.
The third of four films made by the husband and wife dream team of Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall, 1947's Dark Passage, written and directed by Delmer Daves (Destination Tokyo), is perhaps one of the most unique film noirs of the classical era. Not revealing star Humphrey Bogart’s face until sixty-two minutes into the movie, studio head Jack L. Warner (Warner Bros), upon learning this, was absolutely furious. . . but, the film was already so far into production that nothing could be done.
As you read this review, my recommendation would be to go to Youtube and search for the song “Smile” (there are several versions, I would recommend Nat King Cole’s) – and listen to it in the background. Playing a part in both the trailer and film Joker (2019), the poignant lyrics (by John Turner and Geoffrey Parsons) tells you that, “If you smile through your fear and sorrow Smile and maybe tomorrow You’ll see the sun come shining through For You.”, even while the beautifully melancholic melody (written by Charlie Chaplin) tells you a wholly different story. . . one of a smiling clown truly hiding a frown. Also look for a special screening of Chaplin’s Modern Times that plays a part in the film – The Tramp playing the clown despite the crippling burden people and society have put on him.
I’ve always been a fan of horror films that leave the monstrous villain lingering hidden in the darkness. . . viewers’ minds bringing forth much scarier visions than what would usually come by way of CGI or makeup. A film that faithfully follows this rule (both literally and figuratively) is the 2016 horror flick Lights Out, directed by David F. Sandberg. Based off of the director’s own 2013 short film of the same name