"My whole life," he says, "I'd come to a scene and just ask for something real. I'd say, 'Please, just tell me what's going on. All the research, how your character picks up a fork, it'll all come when we know the truth.'" He's talking about a personal and professional evolution that accelerated during the months of his preproduction involvement in 2011's Source Code. The story—a soldier is enabled by technology to relive eight crucial minutes, over and over, until he gets it right and saves the world—resonated deeply with him. "Now the time's come to turn that on myself"—searching, over and over, for the truth—"and it's 'Game on.'
Gyllenhaal has positioned himself in front of the camera, giving himself an extreme close-up before the third and final take, his bearded face filling the monitor with one expression of suffering after another. Almost instinctively, his hand rises to cover his mouth in horror. As D.H. Lawrence said, "a young man is afraid of his demon and puts his hand over the demon's mouth sometimes."
Ayers has seen it before, in End of Watch. "That's Jake," he says. "He's a genuinely sweet guy, but he's also got this real darkness, this rage he's running from. All the great actors have it, believe me. It's what you do with it."
"I don't run anymore. Do I take care of my body and take conditioning seriously? Yes. But exercising regularly doesn't fit the energy of the character I'm playing now."
Until he nails it—not with horror but with old-fashioned anxiety. Villeneuve and Gyllenhaal quickly agree it's the best expression. The decision is key, since it will be the take that Gyllenhaal, as Anthony, will be acting against when his two opposing selves meet. After readying himself to inhabit the part of the vain actor, Gyllenhaal heads off to shoot publicity stills in a nearby room. Flashes go off, and then an imposingly handsome man in a leather jacket and motorcycle boots barrels out with that broad-shouldered, get-the-fuck-out-of-my-way gait such men move with. It takes a second to register it's Gyllenhaal, as Anthony.
Jake Gyllenhaal on the cover of "Details" magazine, September 2012 issue
A beer arrives for him, half of it vanishing in the time it takes me to get the tape recorder going, and as the first three of our ten delicate courses slowly arrive, Gyllenhaal's plates empty fast. A suspiciously large number of beautiful waitresses deliver the respective courses, glancing sideways at him as they linger over descriptions of each dish and continually align fresh sets of chopsticks. That's the only clue I'm sitting with a celebrity. Source: www.details.com
Dick Powell and Rosemary Lane in "Hollywood Hotel" (1937) directed by Busby Berkeley
Dick Powell ("You Must Have Been a Beautiful Baby") video featuring pictures of Dick Powell, his co-stars Claire Trevor, Anne Shirley ("Murder, My Sweet"), Linda Darnell ("It happened tomorrow"), Lucille Ball ("Meet the People"), Lizabeth Scott ("Pitfall"), Evelyn Keyes ("Johnny O'Clock", "Mrs. Mike"), Gloria Grahame ("The Bad & The Beautiful"), Rhonda Fleming ("Cry Danger"), Madeleine Carroll ("On The Avenue"), Ellen Drew ("Christmas in July", "Johnny O'Clock), Debbie Reynolds ("Susan Slept Here"), Priscilla Lane, Lola Lane ("Cowboy from Brooklyn", "Varsity Saw"), Micheline Cheirel, Nina Vale ("Cornered"), Signe Hasso ("To the Ends of the Earth"), Peggy Dow "("You Never Can Tell"), Ginger Rogers ("Twenty Million Sweethearts"), Marion Davies ("Hearts Divided"), Olivia de Havilland ("Hard to Get"), Jane Greer ("Station West"), Ann Sheridan, Gale Page ("Naughty but Nice"), Kay Francis ("Bar Wonder"), Ruby Keeler ("Footlight Parade", "Dames", "Colleen"), and his wives Joan Blondell and June Allyson.
Soundtrack: "So Young" by The Beach Boys, and songs performed by Dick Powell: "You Must Have Been a Beautiful Baby", "Beautiful Baby", "I've got my love to keep me warm", "Dreamers Holiday", "Oh How I Miss You Tonight", "I'm in Love With You", "Till You".
Male Noir Icons ("Hearts of Stone"): A video featuring some noir icons: Humphrey Bogart, Robert Mitchum, Sterling Hayden, John Garfield, Robert Ryan, Dana Andrews, Burt Lancaster, Richard Widmark, Glenn Ford, William Holden, Kirk Douglas, Alan Ladd, Dick Powell, John Payne, Van Heflin, Dan Duryea, Robert Montgomery, Joel McCrea, etc. Soundtrack: "Hearts of Stone" by Otis Williams & The Charms, "The Greatest Love" by Lee Dorsey, "Bewildered" by Richard Berry, "Crazy about my baby" by Randy Newman.
"I’ve forgotten what it was like to have self respect." -Van Heflin and Evelyn Keyes in The Prowler (1951)
French film historian Bernard Tavernier, in the bonus-disc of "The Prowler" DVD, refers to the film's "metaphysical" decor and considers "The Prowler" “maybe one of the ten best films of the genre” in the 20-minute interview featurette “The Masterpiece in the Margins: Bertrand Tavernier on The Prowler”. If you listen very carefully, you will hear Eddie Muller lobbing questions from behind the camera.
Promotional still of Evelyn Keyes for "The Prowler" (1951)
With his repeated references to his "lousy breaks," Webb (Van Heflin) is a very modern character, a predecessor of the aggrieved shooters who make tragic news today, when their self-pity, anger and perceived victimization erupts in violence. A wolf in cop's clothing, Webb is a fraud. Source: blogs.commercialappeal.com
"The Prowler" can also be listed as a "film gris" (French for "grey film"), a term coined by Thom Andersen, which is a type of film noir that categorizes a unique series of films (released between 1947 and 1951) in the context of the first wave of the communist investigations of the House Un-American Activities Committee.
Film gris differs from film noir in some of the following ways: Films gris tend to blame society rather than the individual. The dividing line between crime and law enforcement is often blurred. Also, the audience's identification is often with the collective in a way atypical of Hollywood films.
Van Heflin with Barbara Stanwyck in "The Strange Love of Martha Ivers" (1945) directed by Lewis Milestone, written by Robert Rossen
Evelyn Keyes as Nancy Hobbs in "Johnny O'Clock" (1947) directed by Robert Rossen
Robert Rossen's first experience of directing came when he was called in by Harry Cohn at Columbia to write the script of "Johnny O'Clock", and when Cohn and the star Dick Powell asked him to direct. Bernard Tavernier argued, discussing "Johnny O'Clock", that the film exhibits a 'directorial grace' and 'an invention' not shown in Rossen's later career. Tavernier saw the film as reflecting Rossen's 'Jewish pessimism and idealism', a combination that was 'perfect for film noir'.
Johnny O'Clock [played by Dick Powell] seems entirely selfish and invulnerable, an echo of Bogart's wartime pose. Yet, not for the last time, a Rossen protagonist has finally to reconsider the meaning of winning. Rossen's world is pessimistic, and there is no explicit affirmative vision, as in Polonsky's work. Yet, every scene of the film is directed with care and imagination, hinting at the romanticism beneath the surface, the reluctant altruism that Michael Wood sees as characteristic of the hardboiled American film of the period. The modest success of "Johnny O'Clock" led to the approach by Roberts Productions, including John Garfield, to direct "Body & Soul". -"Film and Politics in America: A Social Tradition" (1992) by Brian Neve
"I'm no fool. I'll pick the spot and I'll pick the time. And I'll get away with it. All my life I've operated that way. And all this time I've won". -Dick Powell as Johnny O'Clock
This is maybe the sexiest role played by Dick Powell ever, and Evelyn Keyes looks like a vestal Lana Turner (acting in a delicate, sorrowful way). Their chemistry is beyond real! Both Johnny and Nancy are individualist personalities trying to deny their romance in its initial stages and wisecrack in an atmosphere of gloomy betrayal.
-Nancy: "I like you, Johnny O'Clock, if that's what you want to know".
-Johnny: "Put it in writing and I'll paste it in my scrapbook".
"Dick Powell, mining his tough-guy vein opened up by 'Murder, My Sweet' is the eponymous hero, a cagy casino manager juggling shady relationships around the roulette. His subzero veneer starts to melt after meeting equally cynical Evelyn Keyes, whose younger sister just got mysteriously offed around Powell's joint. Packed with unexplored existential gambling, fetish objects and implacable detective figures, the dramaturgy here is as sub-Dostoevskian as his more famous 'Body and Soul' is faux-Odetsian." Source: www.cinepassion.org
POWELL, DICK (1904–1963). Powell was a multitalented individual who was able to achieve highly in a number of entertainment fields. He began his working life as a musician and singer who later turned to hard-boiled dramatic roles in one of the most successful career shifts in Hollywood history. He became a prominent song-and-dance man, known best as a crooner in musicals such as 42nd Street (1933) and the Gold Diggers series (1933-1937). His persona was that of a likeable and affable, handsome young man who was a witty and charming romancer of the ladies.
At RKO he was given the lead as detective Philip Marlowe in the 1944 adaptation of Raymond Chandler’s novel Farewell, My Lovely. Even Chandler thought him closer to his own view of the character than Bogart was later in The Big Sleep. Powell eclipsed his old image as a sweet singer to become a totally convincing tough guy who evinced endurance and resilience. He was especially skilled in the delivery of the film’s voice-over narration, a key component in evoking the spirit of Chandler’s prose.
"The only reason I took the job was because my bank account was trying to crawl under a duck. And I never found him. I just found out all over again how big Los Angeles is. My feet hurt and my mind felt like a plumber's handkerchief. The office bottle hadn't sparked me up so I'd taken out my little black book to go grouse hunting. Nothing like soft shoulders to improve my morale"... "I caught the blackjack right behind my ear. And a black pool opened up at my feet again, and I dived in. It had no bottom. It felt good. Just like an amputated leg. Next thing I remember I was going somewhere. It was not my idea. The rest of it was a crazy, coked up dream. I had never been there before." -"Farewell, My Lovely" (1940) by Raymond Chandler
His depiction of the suave gambler in Johnny O’Clock added urbanity to Powell’s tough image, and he was able to combine a streak of ruthlessness with a hint of chivalry in a similar way to Bogart.
Powell was also very capable and effective in the complex leading role of John Forbes in Pitfall (1948), one of the central masculine roles in classical film noir. In this film he plays a husband caught in a brief adulterous affair who has to extricate himself from association with murder, manslaughter, and jealousy to rebuild his marriage.
Dick Powell and Rhonda Fleming as Rocky and Nancy in "Cry Danger" (1951) directed by Robert Parrish
His leading role as Rocky in the underrated film Cry Danger (1951) shows him up well in a story that vividly illustrates conditions for everyday people in postwar Los Angeles. -"Encyclopedia of Film Noir" (2007) by Geoff Mayer and Brian McDonnell
Gloria Grahame and Dick Powell in "The Bad and The Beautiful" (1952) directed by Vincente Minnelli
Dick Powell: From Lightweight Crooner to Noir Icon and Beyond. At Little Rock College, Powell formed a band called the Peter Pan. He also worked variously as a soda jerk, in a grocery store and at the phone company. Powell’s professional career began in 1925, when he toured the Midwest with the Royal Peacocks dance band. Later, Powell played Indianapolis with the jazz-oriented Charlie Davis Orchestra, for whom he sang and played banjo.
Dick Powell and Ruby Keeler in "Footlight Parade (1933) directed by Lloyd Bacon
Cast invariably as a boy singer or song plugger, Powell was paired romantically on film with sweet-faced hoofer Ruby Keeler. Audiences may have imagined Dick Powell paired with Ruby Keeler, who in real life was unhappily married to Al Jolson. But off camera, Powell only had eyes for someone whose vaudeville roots and blue collar work ethic contrasted sharply with her sassy, sexy movie persona.
She was Joan Blondell, who married Dick Powell in 1936 following her divorce from cinematographer George Barnes. Together, they had a daughter, Ellen; Powell also legally adopted Blondell’s son, Norman. In 1944, Powell’s eight-year marriage to Joan Blondell ended abruptly.
The following summer, he married light leading lady June Allyson, 13 years his junior. They adopted a daughter, Pamela, and Allyson gave birth to Richard Powell, Jr. Home for the Powell family was an expansive ranch house in L.A.’s scenic, upscale Mandeville Canyon.
Meantime, Dick Powell’s long-stifled career ambitions at last began to flower. He starred on radio in Richard Diamond, Private Detective, singing occasionally as the storylines warranted. Source: suite101.com
Evelyn Louise Keyes (Born: November 20, 1916 in Port Arthur, Texas - Died: July 4, 2008 in Montecito, California)
Evelyn Keyes in "Ladies in Retirement" (1941) directed by Charles Vidor
Some of Evelyn Keyes's best performances were in film noir: Face Behind the Mask, Ladies in Retirement, Johnny O’Clock, The Killer That Stalked New York, 99 River Street, and her own favorite among her films, The Prowler.
Author Eddie Muller, who profiled Keyes in his book "Dark City Dames: The Wicked Women of Film Noir", recalled her as “One of the smartest and most brutally honest people I have ever known. Her BS detector was finely tuned and went off with great regularity.” He added that “She could have had a much more accomplished career —if she was only less interested in living such a rich, exciting life.”
In 1940, after two years of marriage, her depressive first husband, Barton Bainbridge, shot himself. Her second marriage, to Columbia director Charles Vidor, lasted two years from 1943 before she left him to marry John Huston in 1946. From 1953, she lived with producer Mike Todd, and became jazzman Artie Shaw's eighth wife in 1957. They separated in the 1970s, and divorced in 1985. After his death in 2004, she sued his estate and was awarded $1.42m. Her numerous love affairs were recounted, quite candidly, in her two bestselling autobiographies: Scarlett O’Hara’s Younger Sister and I’ll Think About That Tomorrow. She also wrote of the personal cost she paid by having an abortion just before Gone with the Wind was to begin filming. The experience left her unable to have children.
The most interesting period of her career was in film noir. When told that she had become a film noir icon, she laughed: "It seems that I had a whole career I didn't even know about!" Once past ingenue, the redhead showed a dark side in dramas in which her morality is altered by confrontations with sex and cupidity. As a showgirl in Robert Rossen's debut, Johnny O'Clock (1947), she is drawn into a shadowy world in pursuit of the murderer of her sister. Source: www.guardian.co.uk
Evelyn Keyes in 1940’s, photo by George Hurrell
Promotional still of Dick Powell and Evelyn Keyes for "Mrs. Mike" (1949) directed by Louis King
Among her notable roles: as Robert Montgomery's lover in "Here Comes Mr. Jordan" (1941), the Ruby Keeler role as Al Jolson's wife in "The Jolson Story" (1946), and as Dick Powell's wife in "Mrs. Mike" (1949).
Keyes expressed her opinion that Mrs. Mike was her best film character (in her autobiography, Scarlett O'Hara's Younger Sister: My Lively Life In and Out of Hollywood, published in 1977).
She also starred in B pictures that were later praised by movie critics as prime examples of film noir: "Strange Affair" (1944) "Johnny O'Clock" (1947), "The Killer That Stalked New York" (1950), "The Prowler" (1951), "99 River Street" (1953), etc.
Husband No. 3 was Huston. She was impressed when they met at a Hollywood dinner party, and more impressed when he took her afterward to his Tarzana horse ranch and made no effort to seduce her. The Huston marriage did end in 1950, however, and Keyes sought analysis to recover from the failure. Her conclusion: "I was always looking for the same man — a strong father figure."
“I have no roots,” she told The New York Times in 1977. “I deliberately set out to destroy them, and I did. If there’s any such thing as a hometown for me, it’s Hollywood. I was formed here as an adult.”
Keyes took a frank view of her life and career in a 1999 interview: "To become a big movie star like Joan Crawford you need to wear blinders and pay single-minded attention to your career. Nobody paid attention to me, including me. I was the original Cinderella girl, looking for the happy ending in the fairy story. But my fantasy prince never came." Source: sfgate.com
Evelyn Keyes and John Payne in "99 River Street" (1953) directed by Phil Karlson
Anne Shirley and John Payne appear with Lana Turner at a party at Schwab's in 1938
Anne Shirley and John Payne got married on August 22, 1937 - they divorced on March 1, 1943
Dick Powell and Anne Shirley in "Murder, My Sweet" (1944) directed by Edward Dmytryk
PAYNE, JOHN (1912–1989). John Payne’s screen career in some ways followed the same path as Dick Powell’s, although Payne was never as popular as Powell. Payne began his entertainment career as a singer, moved into summer stock, and began his film career as the male lead in musicals at Twentieth Century Fox. Later, when he had lost his boyish looks, Payne, in the 1950s, switched to action and crime films. Although he made his debut in the domestic melodrama Dodsworth (1936), he was soon cast in musicals: in his second film, Hats Off (1936), he was a press agent romancing Mae Clark; in Garden of the Moon he replaced Dick Powell as a band leader and sang frequently throughout the film; in Twentieth Century Fox’s Tin Pan Alley (1940), the studio’s follow-up to Alexander’s Ragtime Band (1938), Payne replaced Tyrone Power and costarred opposite Alice Faye and Betty Grable.
Patricia Alphin and John Payne as Deborah and Rick in "Larceny" (1948) directed by George Sherman
Payne’s first film away from Fox was the crime melodrama Larceny (1948) for Universal Studio, with Payne starring as a con man in league with Dan Duryea, Richard Rober, and Dan O’Herlihy, who try to swindle a war widow. This film represented a significant departure for Payne in shedding his lightweight romantic persona for a more mature, tough screen image. He followed Larceny with The Crooked Way (1949), with Payne emerging from the army with a piece of shrapnel in his head and a doctor telling him that he is suffering from “organic amnesia.”
John Payne in "Kansas City Confidential" (1952) directed by Phil Karlson
Payne followed with 99 River Street (1953) and Hell’s Island (1955), all violent, bleak films devoid of sentimentality. Payne’s final two noir films in the 1950s were also excellent. The first, Slightly Scarlet (1956), was based on James M. Cain’s novel Love’s Lovely Counterfeit, and the film benefited greatly from John Alton’s sumptuous Technicolor photography.
This was followed by a similar film, The Boss (1956), with Payne as a ruthless politician who extends his corrupt political influence so that it extends across an entire Midwestern state. While the film’s credits claim that the film was scripted by Ben L. Perry, he was only the front for Dalton Trumbo, who was blacklisted at the time. After more television work in the early 1960s, he was involved in an automobile accident in 1962, which resulted in considerable injuries and facial scarring, and he did not work again until They Ran for Their Lives in 1968, a film that he also directed. Payne retired in 1975 after sporadic television appearances in the early 1970s. -"Encyclopedia of Film Noir" (2007) by Geoff Mayer and Brian McDonnell
"My whole life," he says, "I'd come to a scene and just ask for something real. I'd say, 'Please, just tell me what's going on. All the research, how your character picks up a fork, it'll all come when we know the truth.'" He's talking about a personal and professional evolution that accelerated during the months of his preproduction involvement in 2011's Source Code. The story—a soldier is enabled by technology to relive eight crucial minutes, over and over, until he gets it right and saves the world—resonated deeply with him. "Now the time's come to turn that on myself"—searching, over and over, for the truth—"and it's 'Game on.'
Gyllenhaal has positioned himself in front of the camera, giving himself an extreme close-up before the third and final take, his bearded face filling the monitor with one expression of suffering after another. Almost instinctively, his hand rises to cover his mouth in horror. As D.H. Lawrence said, "a young man is afraid of his demon and puts his hand over the demon's mouth sometimes."
Ayers has seen it before, in End of Watch. "That's Jake," he says. "He's a genuinely sweet guy, but he's also got this real darkness, this rage he's running from. All the great actors have it, believe me. It's what you do with it."
Until he nails it—not with horror but with old-fashioned anxiety. Villeneuve and Gyllenhaal quickly agree it's the best expression. The decision is key, since it will be the take that Gyllenhaal, as Anthony, will be acting against when his two opposing selves meet. After readying himself to inhabit the part of the vain actor, Gyllenhaal heads off to shoot publicity stills in a nearby room. Flashes go off, and then an imposingly handsome man in a leather jacket and motorcycle boots barrels out with that broad-shouldered, get-the-fuck-out-of-my-way gait such men move with. It takes a second to register it's Gyllenhaal, as Anthony.
Jake Gyllenhaal on the cover of "Details" magazine, September 2012 issue
