You would have to work very hard to come up with a film in the same stratosphere as Guillermo del Toro’s The Shape of Water (2017). While not a sequel to The Creature from the Black Lagoon, it can easily be read that way. It is a lyrical fantasy that defies disbelief. It is the happy ending that every kid that watched the original film wished for and that del Toro made happen. Every frame brings you closer to the realization that anything is possible, or at least you want to believe it is so. It is less of a horror film than a beautifully bizarre beauty and the beast story.
Doug Jones & Sally Hawkins
Richard Jenkins and Doug Jones
The Shape of Water (2017)
Everything, from the production and casting to the fine points in the script are perfect. The cast performs flawlessly taking you deeper into the story’s depths, letting you float in the comfort of the lovers’ dream.
Julie Adams
Julie Adams
The Creature from the Black Lagoon (1954)
The original film was where del Toro’s influence began–a classic tale of unrequited love. The first film in the trilogy it is undoubtedly the film that most people remember. The next, The Revenge of the Creature is the closest to del Toro’s in that the creature is brought back from the jungle and kept in a holding tank where an effort is made to communicate with him, and of course a beautiful young scientist, Helen Dobson (Lori Nelson) is one of the specialists. The Creature’s heartache is revived.
Lori Nelson & Ricou Browning
Lori Nelson & Tom Hennesy
The third entry in the series is my favorite after the first because of its bizarre film noir influenced narrative (no comment on the Creature’s prison attire). At first, I thought I’d just been watching too much noir, but it was not my imagination: from the opening shot of the convertible racing up to the dock, the film was pure hot house noir right down to the smoldering ice blonde doctor’s wife.
LEFT: Lobby Card. RIGHT: Leigh Snowden in The Creature Walks Among Us
The usual Film Noir conflict, jealousy, and double crossing ensues. There is the nice guy, the tough guy who won’t leave the girl alone, and the husband that pays her no attention except to berate her or accuse her of being unfaithful.
Leigh Snowden & Gregg Palmer
Gregg Palmer & Jeff Morrow
The jealous husband kills the tough guy and plans to frame the innocent Creature, but the Creature catches on and breaks out of his holding cell and kills the doctor.
Don Megowan as the Creature
At the end of this noirish escapade, the Creature exits and goes back into the sea; presumably, to drown due to his newly evolved lungs. There is no way I can let a sleeping sea creature lie. Somehow, he doesn’t drown but swims to LA where he gets rid of the prison suit they put him in and finds a Brooks Brothers where they are happy to fit him in a nice cream colored suit and a power tie that shouts, “I’m a fish out of water! Ask me how?” He then locates an office for lease on the seedy side of Hollywood Boulevard, and the landlord tells him it’s 250 clams a month and insists on three months security deposit because the Creature’s references are all wet. The Creature has the payment delivered packed in dry ice. Next, he hires the dead doctor’s wife as his receptionist and opens a private investigator’s office to the stars. Fade to deep blue.
ABOVE: Dick Powell & Anne Shirley in Murder, My Sweet (1944)
Raymond Chandler was a very different writer than Cornell Woolrich. Chandler favored the hard boiled school of detectives. Where Woolrich relied on taking the average joe from the light into the dark, Chandler starts with shadows that open like a flower only to reveal a deeper shade of black. That is the progression in both The Blue Dahlia and Murder, My Sweet.
Murder, My Sweet (1944) RKO
ABOVE: Dick Powell & Claire Trevor in Murder, My Sweet (1944)
Directed by Edward Dmytryk
Screenplay by John Paxton based on the Novel, Farewell, My Lovely by Raymond Chandler
1hr 35min / Not Rated
CAST: Dick Powell (Philip Marlowe), Claire Trevor (Helen Grayle/Velma Valento), Anne Shirley (Ann Grayle), Otto Kruger (Jules Amthor), Mike Mazurki (Joe ‘Moose’ Malloy), Miles Mander (Leuwen Grayle), Douglas Walton (Lindsay Marriott), Donald Douglas (Police Lt. Randall), Ralf Harolde (Dr. Sonderborg), Esther Howard (Jessie Florian), Ernie Adams (Bartender at Florian’s / uncredited)
Murder, My Sweet (1944) originally carried the title of the Chandler novel it was based on, Farewell, My Lovely. Low returns at the box office prompted the studio to change the title to Murder, My Sweet, because they felt that the public may be mistaking the film for another Dick Powell musical. Powell had made his name as a song and dance man, and rightly felt it had been played out. Wanting to be cast against type, Powell was trying to change that image. The box office picked up after the change of title. The effort paid off both at the box and in good reviews, and even Raymond Chandler has called Powell his favorite Marlowe. This film is prime noir in every sense of the word, from the script and photography, to the casting and performances.
The film begins with Roy Webb’s score (the main theme of which he recycled from his score for Stranger on the Third Floor – 1940 – with great success. Stranger on the Third Floor is regarded as the first true Noir film), and then an overhead still shot of an interrogation. The credits begin as the camera slowly moves in on the still image. At the end of the credits, the camera is flooded with the light from the lamp in the still photo, and we hear the interrogator speak as the camera pulls back and the still photo comes to life.
Philip Marlow (Dick Powell) has a bandage covering his eyes (above), and is not cooperating until Lt. Randall (Donald Douglas) arrives. When Randall enters the room, Marlow finally agrees to talk and the story begins. The beginning of Marlowe’s tale includes one of the best shots in Noir. Moose (Mike Mazurki) comes into Marlowe’s office office unannounced and we see him at the same time Marlowe does, as the neon flashes on and off outside; Moose’s reflection appears in the window (below).
Moose wants Marlowe to find a girl named Velma Valento. He’s insistent and though he adds comedy relief, there is also something menacing about his presence. They banter and seeing that the very large man is not going to be discouraged (in addition the money Moose offers), Marlowe agrees to try to find Velma. They go to the bar where she used to sing before Moose went to prison, Florian’s.
“The joint looked like trouble, but that didn’t bother me. Nothing bothered me, the two twenties felt nice and snug against my appendix. I tried to picture him in love with somebody, but it didn’t work” Mike Mazurki, Dick Powell, & Ernie Adams in Murder, My Sweet (1944)
Moose manages to get into it with the bartender and they leave not knowing anymore than when they went in, but Marlowe looks up the original owner and pays her a visit. Jessie Forian (Ester Howard) is drunk, and Marlowe feeds her whiskey while trying to get information from her about Velma. This is a classic scene with as much humor as you can get away with in a Film Noir, and yet they are both playing for keeps. All Marlowe gets here is light on his whiskey and an old photo of Velma.
Esther Howard in Murder My Sweet (1944)
It isn’t until Marlowe returns to his office once again to find another visitor that things really get off to a running start. When Lindsay Marriott (Douglas Walton) shows up is when the maze begins to open. Marriott wants to hire Marlowe to accompany him on a fool’s errand. He is to meet an unknown person or persons to buy back a stolen necklace. Marlowe advises against it, but accepts the money and drives Marriot to the meeting place.
From this moment on, the tangled tale spins helter skelter, and Marlowe is hard pressed to keep up. The convoluted crisscrossing of greed and desire rivals the plot of the Maltese Falcon (1941) in its twisted intricacies.
Douglas Walton in Murder, My Sweet (1944)
Marlowe takes him to the rendezvous point and leaves him hiding in the back seat of his car. He tells him to keep his head down as he goes.
“You sit tight, I’ll go down and have a look see.”
When he returns to the car, Marlowe is hit in the head and when he comes to, a woman is looking down at him saying, “Are you all right? What happened?” but his vision is blurry and she runs off before he can fully recover. He then finds Marriott dead in the car. Marlowe returns to his office and is greeted by yet another unannounced visitor.
Ann Grayle (Anne Shirley) pretends to be a reporter looking for information. And the quick witted will recognize her from the scene where Marlowe is coming to after getting knocked out! Of course, the detective sees right through the subterfuge.
: Dick Powell in Murder, My Sweet (1944)
ABOVEand BELOW: Anne Shirley & Dick Powell in Murder, My Sweet (1944)
He questions her and gets answers that allow him to delve deeper into the widening abyss. Threating to turn her over to the police, Marlowe demands that Ann take him to see her father and step mother. This unexpectedly brings him face to face with someone that Lt. Randall mentioned and warned him about.
The meeting between the Grayles and Marlowe enlightens him less about what exactly is going on than it does about Helen Grayle (Claire Trevor). She openly flirts with him once her husband retires for the evening. Even when caught on the sofa slowly moving toward Marlowe by her step-daughter she is glib, “Strange girl,” is her only comment.
Miles Mander, Claire Trevor, Anne Shirley, Dick Powell, & Otto Kruger in Murder, My Sweet (1944)
The conversation he has with Jules Amthor (Otto Kruger) is civil but icy. Kruger is in top form as he exudes evil with a smile. Only in Hitchcocks’s Saboteur was he more sinister. Marlowe brushes by him with a hint that they’ll be seeing each other soon.
Claire Trevor, Dick Powell, Bernice-Ahi, & Anne Shirley in Murder, My Sweet (1944)
Marlowe’s at home and in the middle of cleaning himself up when Helen shows up and suggests going out to dinner. Marlowe accepts and they go to the Coconut Beach club and she quickly vanishes, but Marlowe finds Ann there and she is trying to buy him off the case. Then Moose shows up and things go down hill from as he is taken to “meet someone” in true noir fashion.
Guns, pistol whipping, and even drugs and hallucinations take the main stage as the plot unwinds like a crazy three armed sweater. There is a drunk sequence in a noir called Moontide (1942) that has visuals that may have influence Murder, My Sweet and in part along with Murder, My Sweet influenced Alfred Hitchcock in the making of similar sequences in Spellbound and Vertigo. What is certain is that Salvador Dali did the design on the sequence in Moontide. Dali was also hired by Hitchcock for Spellbound. Take a look at the video’s below and let me know what you think in the comments section below.
The drunk scene in Moontide was done by Salvador Dali who was in the art department. He was the nightmare sequence designer / set designer. This was a Fritz Lang project, but Lang was taken off the picture and replaced by Archie Mayo. Mayo had a reputation for not getting along with actors and being difficult. It is safe to say that this effort would have been better if Lang had finished the project.
Dali was again in the Art Department on Hitchcock’s Spellbound, and the dream sequence was based on designs by Salvador Dali.
The sequence in Murder, My Sweet is not exactly like any of the other sequences, but like Moontide has a connection to the films that followed in the general similarity of the work. Perhaps the best of all of these is the sequence in Vertigo. I may be biased because it is one of my favorite films, but take a look and let me know what you think.
You have either seen Murder, My Sweet and know what happens next, but will want to re-watch it, or you have never seen it and your curiosity will have the DVD, Blu-Ray, or streaming ordered before you get up from your chair. Trust me, any way you view it, you will be delighted by this perfect Film Noir.
Facts, Rumors, & Hearsay
RKO realized a profit of $597,000 ($8.5 M in 2018). This was not the first time the studio had been saved by a so called B film. (See Producers & Directors Series 1Val Lewton in F&TVR’s ARCHIVES: JULY 2018.)
As a result of the film’s success, plans to star Dick Powell in a series of musicals was abandoned and he was cast in more detective and action films.
To make Mike Mazurki even more frightening, Edward Dmytryk had the sets designed with slanted ceilings in order force the perspective. As Mazurki walked closer to the camera, an illusion on being even taller is created.
The Blue Dahlia (1946) Paramount
William Bendix, Hugh Beaumont, & Alan Ladd in The Blue Dahlia
Directed by George Marshall
Screenplay by Raymond Chandler
1hr 36 min / Not Rated
CAST: Alan Ladd (Johnny Morrison), Veronica Lake (Joyce Harwood), William Bendix (Buzz Wanchek), Howard Da Silva (Eddie Harwood), Doris Dowling (Helen Morrison), Tom Powers (Capt. Hendrickson), Hugh Beaumont ( George Copeland), Howard Freeman (Corelli), Don Costello (Leo), Will Wright (‘Dad’ Newell), Frank Faylen (Man Recommending a Motel), and Walter Sande (Heath).
The screenplay by Raymond Chandler begins with an economical prelude that manages in short hand to lay out the personalities and issues of the three soldiers on their return from service in the South Pacific during the Second World War. Getting off a bus marked, HOLLYWOOD they go into the first bar they see. The writing and the editing work in tandem throughout the film, moving the story and building suspense with a silky grace studded with prime Noir dialogue.
Buzz (William Bendix) is annoyed by the loud music from the juke box due to shell shock and the metal plate in his head. An exchange between him and the G.I. pumping coins into the juke escalates until the proprietor is ready to throw them out. William Bendix gives one of the best performance of his long career. He also appeared in a number of other Film Noir productions: The Dark Corner (1946), Cover Up (1949), The Big Steal (1949), and Detective Story (1951).
Hugh Beaumont is also well cast as the fellow airman who is an attorney and a good friend. He tries to reign in the afflicted Buzz and give Johnny (Alan Ladd) breathing room as his friend faces the reality of his tragically shattered home life. Beaumont’s cool and underplayed George is a perfect fit. Beaumont appeared in several other Film Noir productions: Apology for Murder (1945), Bury Me Dead (1947), and Johnny O’Clock (1947). He and Bendix work well off of one another, Beaumont as the well adjusted and methodic attorney, and Bendix as a shell shocked and brain damaged hot head.
Johnny’s wife, Helen (Doris Dowling) hasn’t written to him for some time while he was on duty. He does not know what he is going home to, but it is worse than he could have imagined. In a heated argument, he walks out into the pouring rain not knowing what to do and meets Joyce (Veronica Lake) when she offers him a ride. Meanwhile, Helen, unable to reach her lover, Eddie Harwood, calls the number that Johnny wrote down when Buzz called him. She is looking for someone to help her find Johnny. Buzz answers the phone and promises her that he will bring Johnny back even if he has to, “…frog march him.”
Doris Dowling & William Bendix in The Blue Dahlia
Dowling gives a performance that walks a tight rope between the damaged woman that has lost a child and the person that she must have been before the tragedy. In her exchanges with Buzz, that woman is briefly exposed, but when she interacts with her husband Johnny, or her lover Eddy she can’t be that woman and she reverts to the hard, paranoid woman who killed her child. The pathos is underlined by her innate good nature. Although she has less screen time than the other characters, she makes a strong impression that underscores Johnny’s sense of loss. This woman that she can no longer be with him because she cannot forgive herself, but is at ease for a few fleeting moments in the bar with Buzz. This is my favorite scene in the film because it displays her skill as an actress and quickly illuminates her character. Having met her in the bar, Buzz is not aware that the woman he is with is Helen. He is confused when she asks him to come to her rooms. She is not aware that he has come to see her either, because they don’t introduce themselves.
He is surprised that she lives in the complex but decides to join her to get out of the rain. He accompanies her and they go to her apartment. While Buzz is there, Helen calls Eddie (Howard Da Silva) and her angry persona returns as she tells him that she isn’t going to be dumped twice in one night.
He tells her he’ll be there in half an hour. We don’t see Buzz with her, but he is in the apartment when she makes the call. What we do see is Marlowe being picked up by Joyce in the rain. When we next see Buzz, he comes through the door of the apartment he and George are renting and he is soaking wet. When George asks him where he’s been, he only replies, “Out.” Next shot we see Eddie leaving Helen’s apartment in the rain. We note that house detective sees him leaving. Meanwhile, Johnny and Joyce are getting along very well. So well in fact that Joyce is having difficulty parting with her new friend. The next thing that happens is that Helen is found dead. She has been shot, and it looks bad for Buzz! This is one of the best examples of vintage Noir casting and story telling. All of the performances are noteworthy with stand outs among the supporting cast including Doris Dowling, Will Wright, and Howard Da Silva.
Facts, Rumors, & Heresay
Veronica Lake was given the part opposite Alan Ladd in part due to her petite stature of 4’11”. Since Ladd was only 5’6″, this meant easier filming because they would not have to make him look taller in their scenes together. They did however have that problem with Doris Dowling, but it was not as much of an issue with Ladd because they had fewer scenes together.
This was Raymond Chandler’s first original screenplay.
Chandler has claimed that he directed some of the scenes himself.
Written by Joseph Stefano based on the Novel by Robert Bloch
CAST: Anthony Perkins (Norman Bates), Janet Leigh (Marion Crane), John Gavin (Sam Loomis), Vera Miles (Lila Crane), Martin Balsam (Detective Milton Arbogast), Vaughn Taylor (George Lowery), Frank Albertson (Tom Cassidy), John McIntire ( Sheriff Al Chambers), Patricia Hitchcock (Caroline), John Anderson (California Charlie), Mort Mills (Highway Patrol Officer).
1hr 49min / Rated R
Part 4:The Investigation
After Marion’s disappearance, her sister arrives at Sam Loomis’ store only moments before the arrival of a private investigator. Detective Milton Arbogast is sarcastically officious to the point of rudeness. Sam demands an explanation to the questions that he’s being asked, and the answers he receives mystify him. There is no question that he is telling the truth when he denies knowing anything about Marion and the forty-thousand dollars. Sam’s innocence, along with Lila’s confusion slowly brings the abrasive Arbogast around, but he has to satisfy his own suspicions first.
Arbogast sets out checking one motel after another until he finally stumbles onto the out of the way motel run by Norman Bates. His questioning of Norman starts off slowly, but it isn’t long before Arbogast’s aggressive insistence escalates Norman’s uneasiness and causes him to stumble and give the detective an answer that contradicts one of his previous responses. He is no match for the practiced detective, and Norman’s nerves unravel undermining his concentration to the point of mentioning his mother. He then refuses to continue the conversation and let’s Arbogast know he is no longer willing to speak to him. The sometimes subtle, sometimes sudden changes in mood and personality that Perkins brings to the character of Norman Bates rises to a level that makes it difficult for the viewer not to emphasize with him.
Arbogast leaves the motel and goes to a phone booth and calls Lila. He tells her that he is sure that Marion was at the Bates Motel, but feels that something is not right. Although Norman says she left the next morning, he thinks maybe Norman’s mother knows something that could help them locate Marion. He advises Lila that he is going back to try to speak to the mother. He also tells her that he believes that Sam did not know that Marion had come to see him. He assures her that he won’t be more than a hour. Up to this point, Arbogast has annoyed the viewer almost as much as he did Sam, Lila, and Norman, but when he talks to Lila he seems a different person, kind and comforting. Like the shot of him talking to Norman as his back is reflected in the mirror, it is a reverse reflection of what we see as he grills Norman. One more clue to the paradox that is being unfolded.
Much has been written about Hitchcock’s use of mirrors in Psycho to reflect the idea of a split personality. It is a reflection of Arbogast’s back because he is an unknown, like Norman. We don’t know what to think of him at this point. Arbogast’s is the most telling because the change in his personality is shown and happens right before the second murder.
Returning to the motel, he does not see any sign of Norman. He goes into the house. He starts up the stairs slowly. When he gets to the top of the landing we are startled as Mrs. Bates appears suddenly and stabs him violently. Arbogast staggers backward down the staircase and is followed by the deranged old woman. The scene culminates in a continuation of the vicious stabbing. Like the shower scene, this comes out of nowhere and the shock sends us reeling as we watch helplessly.
Back at Sam Loomis’ store, Lila begins to worry after more than two hours passes and there is no sign of Arbogast. She is convinced that something must have happened to the detective or they would have heard from him. They go to see the Sheriff at his home in the middle of the night, and in the course of trying to convince the Sheriff and his wife that there is something amiss are informed that Mrs. Bates has been dead for ten years. They are more confused than ever as their investigation enters its final stage. They decide to see for themselves what is going on at the Bates Motel.
The next day after seeing the sheriff and his wife at church, they drive to the motel and pretend that they are a married couple wanting to rent a cabin. Lila decides that she wants to go into the house to talk to Norman’s mother. Once they are sure Norman has returned to the house, they go to cabin 1 and examine it. Finding the scrap of paper in the toilet, Lila sees as proof that Marion has been there. Sam reminds her that Norman has never denied that Marion was there. Lila believes that the figures on the paper prove that her sister was going to return the money. It is then that Lila decides to try to find and talk to the old woman. She suggests that Sam be the decoy and she go to the house.
The plan is for Sam to keep Norman busy talking. This turns out to be more difficult than expected. Sam’s questions anger and then bore him. After the ordeal with Arbogast, Norman grows impatient quickly and realizes that he’s being stalled. Hitting Sam in the head with a heavy vase, he then runs to the house.
Lila has been investigating the house. She goes up the stairs to the mother’s room, but finds it empty except for her own reflections in the mirrors that startle her. She is only further confused by what she finds in the empty room. She then heads down stairs and is in the entryway just as Norman is coming up the stairs, and she runs and hides behind the stair case. She sees him come in as she hides in the little stairwell that leads down to the fruit cellar doors. Bates looks in that direction, but chooses to run up the stairs. Of course, he thinks, she’s gone to mother’s room.
Meanwhile, Lila goes down the stairs, unable to resist the lure of the beckoning doors of the fruit cellar. Coming through the door, she immediately sees Norman’s mother sitting with her back to the door as if asleep in the chair. Saying, “Mrs. Bates,” she walks toward her. Then she gently touches the woman’s shoulder, but instead of a response the chair slowly turns to reveal a hideous cadaver and Lila screams. Her up swung hand hits a hanging light as Norman bursts through the door wearing a wig and his mother’s clothes and is closely followed by Sam. Sam grabs and restrains him.
Denouement
This is the only place Psycho falters. It is a scene that has been inserted solely to explain what happened. Aside from being unnecessary, it is clumsy and serves only to pull the audience out of the spell that the film has so carefully cast. The explanation that the psychiatrist gives is overblown and his presentation is both hammy and stagey. All this is moot, because Hitchcock only included it because he had to due to executive pressure. In spite of bringing the incredible flow of the narrative to a jolting halt, it is not enough to ruin the film. Even the noted Hitchcock scholar, Donald Spoto only has this to say about this scene in his excellent, The Art of Alfred Hitchcock:
“The verbal explanation offered later by the psychiatrist at the courthouse adds nothing more…(than what is seen in the last shot as Sam restrains Norman)…The attempt to provide neat psychoanalytic maps to the contours of Norman’s twisted mind seems jejune.”
Donald Spoto The Art of Alfred Hitchcock: Fifty Years of His Motion Pictures
Spoto calls it boring. He was being kind. I would like to see a director’s cut with the scene eradicated from the film. Then the film would end like this…
then to here..
and finally…
The Film Score
No other film score has had such an impact on its audience. It is impossible to imagine Psycho without Bernard Herrmann’s score. The two are joined as with no other film and score. The ‘all strings’ choice that Herrmann made was so perfect for the subject and theme of the film that it is as important as all of the other elements combined. Though partly necessitated by budget limitations: he created a score for what is essentially a low budget black and white film that transcends its limitations in part due to the magnificent score. Herrmann called it a ‘black and white’ score which is perfect, because the sound so reflects what is happening on the screen that just hearing the music takes the listener back to the scenes as they flash in the mind as if projected on the air. In this case, the freedom Hitchcock gave the composer did have a immense impact on the finished film. Herrmann has said that director’s don’t know music and that Hitchcock wanted a ‘jazz score’ with no music in the famous shower scene but Herrmann knew better and had written a piece for that key scene instinctively. When Hitchcock finally admitted that the scene did need music, Herrmann had just what the director desired. Hitchcock reinforced the importance of this when he doubled Herrmann’s fee for the film. See Note by Note: Bernard Herrmann (F&TVRArchives/September) for more on Herrmann’s film scores.
F&TVR is proud to have as a contributor, John Harbourne whose art speaks for itself, below he explains how he works:
“When I’m approaching a new drawing I’ll watch the film a few times, make sketches, read the source novel and research online, looking for that angle that will give me the essence of the story.“John Harbourne from his site: https://johnharbourneartist.com
Facts, Rumors & Hearsay
Alfred Hitchcock doubled Barnard Herrmann’s salary to $34,501. Hitchcock later said, “Thirty-three percent of the effect of Psycho was due to the music.”
Bernard Herrmann has said, “Alfred Hitchcock only finishes a picture 60 percent, I have to finish it for him.”
The shower scene made Janet Leigh realize how vulnerable a woman was in a shower. To the end of her life, she always took baths.
Hitchcock received an angry letter from a man whose daughter stopped taking baths after seeing Diabolique (1955), and now was refusing to take showers after seeing Psycho. Hitchcock responded with a letter saying, “Send her to the dry cleaners.”
To enhance the voyeuristic feel of the film Hitchcock used a 50 mm lens on his 35 mm camera which most closely approximates human vision. In the scenes where Norman is spying on Marion, this effect is realized.
