Jake Gyllenhaal as Officer Taylor and Anna Kendrick as Janet in "End of Watch" (2012)


Jake Gyllenhaal and Michael Peña in "End of Watch": "Starbucks and Quinceanera" clip

The scene finds cop pals Jake Gyllenhaal and Michael Peña shooting the shit, and riffing on the differences between white and Mexican wives, before they are called out on a gig. The generous amounts of swearing are bleeped out, though they could've just put this trailer under a red band instead, but we suppose that would limit the audience who doesn't know how to lie to get past age gates. Anyway, it's not particularly remarkable or funny, but the sequence does show David Ayers' voyeuristic approach utilizing all kinds of different cameras -- in the car, strapped on a helicopter -- to give the picture an added immediacy. Source: blogs.indiewire.com

Drum Kits in "Phantom Lady" by Robert Siodmak

Ella Raines and Elisha Cook Jr. in "Phantom Lady" (1944) directed by Robert Siodmak (jazz drums scene).

The scene in the jazz cellar is a significant turning point in the film’s plot; exploiting stereotypes carried over from “the jazz age” and long held assumptions about the jazz lifestyle. Ella Raines as Carol wears a costume with no mixed messages; even a Midwestern girl new to the big city knows precisely how to communicate her intentions to Cook’s drummer man (including the beauty patch that passes as a mole). What follows is a barely masked display of drugs, jazz and sexual innuendo, which could not have been lost on wartime audiences watching the film for the first time (the drum solo is not listed in the credits, some sources claim Gene Krupa but evidence exists that Dave Coleman, Sr. might have been the drummer for this scene).

Director Robert Siodmak, producer Joan Harrison, Ella Raines and Franchot Tone on the set of Phantom Lady

The distinctly different styles used in each of these sequences further punctuate the fact that music is not used elsewhere in the film. There is no atmospheric or incidental music, and little to no exterior noises. The world of this Siodmak film is an eerily silent and sterile one.

Film noir often brings the hero in contact with the classic female characters of the genre: the actress, the call girl, the dancer and the singer. Phantom Lady brings the heroine in contact with the classic male characters of the genre: the bartender, the cabdriver, the detective and the musician. Source: distant-voicesandflickering-shadows.blogspot.com

In short, Cook's insane Gene Krupa-dubbed solo in the basement bar is one of the most gloriously unseemly bits of sexual sublimation in sound cinema. It's sexual sublimation gone horribly right and wrong at the same time. And though Ella Raines is basically cozying up to him to get information, she still turns into a kind of creepy jazz-loving libertine, conjuring up his ferocious solo like its a spirit borne wailing from her fallopian tubes to his drum sticks and back again. Source: acidemic.blogspot.com

Raymond Chandler's hardboiled detective Philip Marlowe transformed

Humphrey Bogart (as Philip Marlowe), Lauren Bacall (as Vivian Rutledge), Sonia Darrin (as Agnes Lowzier) in "The Big Sleep" (1946) directed by Howard Hawks Raymond Chandler's Philip Marlowe is self-critical as well as socially critical. What he sees as his work goes far beyond the often straightforward tasks imposed by his clients; self-employed and without family ties, he exploits the singular nature of his job to negotiate among contesting groups, ever conscious of the fact that simplistic definitions of "good" and "evil" will hamper his efforts. Richard Slotkin nevertheless holds to the old paradigm and overemphasizes the Western provenance of the hardboiled detective as exemplified by Marlowe. He posits, intriguingly, for example, that Chandler's detective, like James Fenimore Cooper's Hawkeye, is first and foremost a "rescuer" of the innocent, that both heroes are "engaged in unmasking hidden truth."

In response to one of Orfamay's many complaints (in "The Little Sister") about the evils of Los Angeles, Marlowe simply says that "we have to take the bad with the good in this life", an offhand, sarcastic comment, yet one that neatly sums up the detective's philosophy. Marlowe eschews confronting problems idealistically, but he pragmatically confronts them daily on a professional and personal basis. And by guardedly engaging the citizens of the city, he avoids the opposite extreme of nihilism as found in Hammett, whose Continental Op in Red Harvest, for Sinda Gregory, "is made to appear as guilty and morally reprehensible as the rest of the gangsters". One might then expect Chandler's class bias to have endeared him to a Marxist critic such as Ernest Mandel, who, however, feels that Marlowe, among other detectives, is a sentimentalist who wastes his energy on pursuing criminals who wield only "limited clout". It is doubtless Chandler's reluctance to make any global condemnation of the capitalist system that bothers Mandel. Chandler consistently and symbolically sought redress for social ills within the democratic system as he knew it in the United States, within the liberal tradition. In "The Simple Art of Murder," for example, he insisted that no social or political hierarchy is truly divorced from the "rank and file" in a democracy, and thus cannot be completely blamed for its failures. Ross Macdonald's primary criticism of Chandler is that he is too moralistic; Like other critics, Macdonald misreads Chandler's "The Simple Art of Murder," overemphasizing Chandler's call for "a quality of redemption" as a "central weakness in his vision" in novels. Chandler isolates his hero, Philip Marlowe, by means of "an angry puritanical morality" and erects barriers, including those of language. Chandler's deepest concerns - his interest in the community as well as the individual, his hatred of the abuse and the abusers of power, his conviction that ethical conduct cannot be reduced to simplistic formulae and must be continually scrutinized - are inevitably what Hollywood was most concerned to change. While classics of film noir and exciting, entertaining narratives in their own right, Dmytryk's Murder, My Sweet and Hawks' The Big Sleep not only simplify Chandler's novels but also defuse Chandler's social critique, transforming plot and adapting characters when not eliminating them outright. “Murder, My Sweet” is Philip Marlowe’s film debut and director Edward Dmytryk certainly captured the look and feel of a good 1940’s crime film. While the film varies from the novel – most notably Anne Riordan, the persistent reporter, has morphed into a Grayle daughter from a previous marriage – the changes aren’t as drastic as they would be with the Howard Hawks’ production based on The Big Sleep or Robert Altman’s production based on The Long Goodbye. An often-heard quote about Powell’s performance is that he was the “eagle scout” Marlowe. That quote originated with Dmytryk and it wasn’t about Powell, it was about Marlowe. In an interview about why he cast Dick Powell, Dmytryk said: “[Dick Powell] fit the character, as far as I could see. After all, what is Marlowe? He’s no Sam Spade. He’s an eagle scout among tough guys. He’s a moral, ethical man, with a strong sense of responsibility.” Philip Marlowe may be re-envisioned by filmmakers for whatever they need for their particular movie as many characters of literature often are. Chandler also cast Marlowe in many different guises and the Marlowe of Farewell, My Lovely varies a great deal from the Marlowe of The High Window or the Marlowe of The Big Sleep or the Marlowe of The Long Goodbye. The Marlowe in Farewell, My Lovely is a very passive Marlowe, subjected to the whims of Moose Malloy and Dr. Sonderborg and Jesse Florian. This is not the Marlowe of control but the Marlowe of defeat. It is one of the rare times that Marlowe doesn’t understand what is happening until the shooting starts and where the motives of any number of people don’t become obvious until it is almost too late. Anne Shirley as Anne Grayle and Dick Powell as Philip Marlowe in "Murder, My Sweet" (1944) directed by Edward Dmytryk That isn’t the Marlowe of other novels and in this novel – unlike any of the others – he gets the girl. Not the rich, well-settled Anne Grayle of the movie who will inherit everything from her father but the down-to-earth Anne Riordan of the novel who has nothing and owes nothing to anybody. This is a ghost of Marlowe surrounded by the poetry of Chandler. It is the smoke of Marlowe and not the fire and in this case someone such as Dick Powell is perfect for the role of Marlowe because a tough guy would show that this book is only hard-boiled in plot. As with The Big Sleep and The Lady In The Lake, Farewell, My Lovely was based on short stories that were published in the pulp magazines. None of those stories featured Philip Marlowe although after Chandler became successful those stories were collected for publication and the main characters were then renamed Philip Marlowe. In the book, Marlowe is working for the police who are trying to find Malloy after Malloy kills the owner of a nightclub where Velma once worked. LAPD Detective McNulty convinces Marlowe that Marlowe needs “friends” in the police department and Marlowe accepts the non-paying job of trying to find Malloy. “Nothing made it my business except curiosity,” Marlowe muses in the book. “But strictly speaking, I hadn’t any business in a month. Even a no-charge job was a change.” However one tries to frame this relationship, the word “informer” keeps entering the picture. Marlowe tells McNulty, “Okey, if I think of anything, it’s yours. And when you get the mug, I’ll identify him for you. After lunch.” Yet he sets out to track down Velma – who might lead him to Malloy – immediately after the conversation. Source: www.williamahearn.com "Will you make love to me tonight?" she asked softly. "That again is an open question. Probably not." "You would not waste your time. I am not one of these synthetic blondes with a skin you could strike matches on. These ex-laundresses with large bony hands and sharp knees and unsuccessful breasts." "Just for half an hour," I said, "let's leave the sex to the side. It's great stuff, like chocolate sundaes. But there comes a time you would rather cut your throat. I guess maybe I'd better cut mine."

I turned west on Sunset and swallowed myself up in three lanes of race-track drivers who were pushing their mounts hard to get nowhere and do nothing. "I used to like this town," I said, just to be saying something and not to be thinking too hard. "A long time ago. There were trees along Wilshire Boulevard. Beverly Hills was a country town. Westwood was bare hills and lots offering at eleven hundred dollars and no takers. Hollywood was a bunch of frame houses on the interurban line. Los Angeles was just a big dry sunny place with ugly homes and no style, but goodhearted and peaceful. It had the climate they just yap about now. People used to sleep out on porches. Little groups who thought they were intellectual, used to call it the Athens of America. It wasn't that, but it wasn't a neon-lighted slum either." We crossed La Cienega and went into the curve of the Strip. The Dancers was a blaze of light. The terrace was packed. The parking lot was like ants on a piece of overripe fruit. "Now we get characters like this Steelgrave owning restaurants. We get guys like that fat boy that bawled me out back there. We've got the big money, the sharp shooters, the percentage workers, the fast-dollar boys, the hoodlums out of New York and Chicago and Detroit-and Cleveland. We've got the flash restaurants and night clubs they run, and the hotels and apartment houses they own, and the grifters and con men and female bandits that live in them. The luxury trades, the pansy decorators, the lesbian dress designers, the riffraff of a big hard-boiled city with no more personality than a paper cup. Out in the fancy suburbs dear old Dad is reading the sports page in front of a picture window, with his shoes off, thinking he is high class because he has a three-car garage. Mom is in front of her princess dresser trying to paint the suitcases out from under her eyes. And Junior is clamped onto the telephone calling up a succession of high school girls that talk pigeon English and carry contraceptives in their make-up kit." "It is the same in all big cities, amigo." "Real cities have something else, some individual bony structure under the muck. Los Angeles has Hollywood-and hates it. It ought to consider itself damn lucky. Without Hollywood it would be a mail-order city. Everything in the catalogue you could get better somewhere else." "You are bitter tonight, amigo." "I've got a few troubles. The only reason I'm driving this car with you beside me is that I've got so much trouble a little more will seem like icing." "You have done something wrong?" she asked and came close to me along the seat. "Well, just collecting a few bodies," I said. "Depends on the point of view. The cops don't like the work done by us amateurs. They have their own service." "What will they do to you?" "They might run me out of town and I couldn't care less. Don't push me so hard. I need this arm to shift gears with." She pulled away in a huff. "I think you are very nasty to get along with," she said. "Turn right at the Lost Canyon Road." "I was pretty good in there, no?" she said softly. Then the car backed violently with a harsh tearing of the tires on the asphalt paving. The lights jumped on. The car curved away and was gone past the oleander bush. The lights turned left, into the private toad. The lights drifted off among trees and the sound faded into the long-drawn whee of tree frogs. Then that stopped and for a moment there was no sound at all. And no light except the tired old moon. -"The Little Sister" (1949) written by Raymond Chandler

Where Carroll John Daly's, Dashiell Hammett's, and Mickey Spillane's heroes display the self-sufficient, self-aggrandizing traits of classic rugged American individualism, Chandler, through Marlowe, critiques the individualist ethos. While other hardboiled detectives often abuse the power they possess and isolate themselves in the process, his actions are pointed consistently at getting contentious or potentially contentious individuals to work together. Unlike other hardboiled heroes, Marlowe is acutely critical of his own thoughts and actions; he questions his own role and the power he wields, and his actions reflect changes in attitude as he learns from others; In a world in which the police are as guilty of egregious violence as criminals, Marlowe roundly condemns both; his toughness is measured not by resorting to such extreme measures, but by his refusal to respond violently to the threats of gangsters (Eddie Mars in The Big Sleep, Laird Brunette in Farewell, My Lovely) or the police (Christy French in The Little Sister, Detective Dayton in The Long Goodbye). "No matter how smart you think you are, you have to have a place to start from; a name, an address, a neighbourhood, a background, an atmosphere, a point of reference of some sort." -Elliot Gould as Philip Marlowe in "The Long Goodbye" (1973) directed by Robert Altman Cynthia S. Hamilton insists that, in keeping with the genre, "Chandler's misanthropy demands an absolute separation between Marlowe and the moral squalor of his society". In her view Marlowe is antisocial, an "alienated outsider who vindicates that stance by his demonstrable superiority in a society unworthy of his services." Chandler took on the daunting challenge of using the highly individualistic figure of the private eye to explain how and why American rugged individualism has failed. In transforming the figure of the hard-boiled detective, he created a new paradigm, not only for a new detective, but for a new individual as well. -"Raymond Chandler's Philip Marlowe: The Hard-Boiled Detective Transformed" by John Paul Athanasourelis (2011)

Robert Pattinson & Kristen Stewart Talk Twilight Fan Appreciation

Kristen Stewart and Robert Pattinson in BREAKING DAWN PART 2 - TARGET EXCLUSIVE DVD RELEASE PREVIEW

Robert Pattinson at "BREAKING DAWN PART 2" COMIC CON PRESS LINE (12 July, 2012)


Robert Pattinson Talks Twilight Fan Appreciation & Fifty Shades of Grey: Robert Pattinson shares his appreciation for all the "Twilight" fans' support over the years.

Kristen Stewart and Mackenzie Foy as Bella Cullen and Renesmee in "Breaking Dawn part 2" (2012)


How does Kristen Stewart feel about the "Twilight Saga" coming to an end with "Breaking Dawn Part 2"? Plus, what does Kristen say when she finds out that "Twilight" author Stephenie Meyer wants to apologize to Kristen for all the wild (and somewhat overwhelming) attention she received from starring in the "Twilight" series.



What does Taylor Lautner consider the positives and negatives about "The Twilight Saga" coming to an end? Plus, he tells Access' Scott "Movie" Mantz how "impressed" he was by young Mackenzie Foy, who plays Renesmee Cullen (the daughter of Robert Pattinson and Kristen Stewart in "Breaking Dawn part 2".

Source: watch.accesshollywood.com

"Singin' in the Rain" 60th Anniversary (Debbie Reynolds was transformed)

Gene Kelly and Debbie Reynolds in "Singin' in the Rain" (1952) directed by Stanley Donen & Gene Kelly

This 60th anniversary presentation of the quintessential American musical includes a special interview with Debbie Reynolds conducted by TCM host Robert Osborne.
Thursday (7/12), 7pm
CINEMARK CEDAR PARK, 1335 E. Whitestone, Cedar Park

See the "Singin' in the Rain 60th Anniversary" event at Quality 16 and Rave Motion Pictures. 2 and 7 p.m. $11.50. TCM host Robert Osborne interviews star Debbie Reynolds before the film. Tickets are available at participating theater box offices and online at www.FathomEvents.com. Q16 is at 3686 Jackson Road, Scio Township. 734-623-7469. Rave is at 4100 Carpenter Road, Pittsfield Township. 734-973-4823. Source: www.anarbor.com

-Debbie Reynolds in interviews has said Gene was very demanding of her, especially since she wasn't a trained dancer. And Gene once said "I wasn't very nice to Debbie. I'm surprised she still speaks to me." Was that really the case?

-Another of the myths was that Gene didn't want her in the picture and he absolutely wanted her. It was actually [producer] Arthur Freed who brought Gene and [director] Stanley Donen up to the office and looked at "Abba Dabba Honeymoon," her number with Carleton Carpenter , and he thought she was the right one for that role and they agreed. Stanley asked, "Can she dance?" and she was not a trained dancer, but that didn't threaten Gene at all. Frank Sinatra was not a trained dancer, and he had taught so many young people how to dance, so he basically applied the same techniques. You hear Gene was a perfectionist, and he was absolutely demanding, but he demanded the same thing of everything and of himself. And I think trained dancers are used to that type of discipline.

Debbie was transformed. I think [dance assistants] Carol Haney and Jeannie Coyne, working with her day in and day out in a lot of the rehearsals, helped her to advance. And Gene always said, "You choreograph to the woman," so he choreographed to Debbie's capabilities. You don't outchoreograph and outdance her, you make her look great. And it was the same thing with Sinatra, you choreograph to him. He choreographed to Olivia Newton-John in "Xanadu." You want your partner to look the best he or she can possibly look. And that was always his intent with Debbie, and she worked like a trouper and became a big star. Source: www.newsday.com


Clips from "Susan Slept Here" (1954) directed by Frank Tashlin, starring Dick Powell, Debbie Reynolds and Anne Francis

"Susan Slept Here" is a glorious bath of Technicolor about a 35-year-old Oscar-winning screenwriter (played by Dick Powell) whose Christmas Eve includes a couple of cops delivering him a 17-year-old delinquent (Debbie Reynolds). She's the Susan of the title, she does indeed sleep there, and they even end up driving over to Las Vegas on Christmas day for an elopement.

It's almost curious that Hollywood in the 1950s is considered to have been a conservative period for the movies, yet here was director Frank Tashlin slyly making a film that repeatedly alludes to the idea of Powell, who was actually about 49 during filming what turned out to be his last movie, having sex with the underage Reynolds, who would have been 21 in real life.

Reynolds seems to transform from a cute kid to a rather alluring and even sexy young woman. Susan's choice of dress changes, as do parts of her personality. When she learns of the annulment and its basic conditions, her resolve is maybe more than a little shocking. Tashlin mixes this in as smoothly as possible and seems to trust his audience at all times. Source: film.thedigitalfix.com

For instance, when Susan notices a picture of Mark’s longtime lover, Isabella (Anne Francis), it leads to this hilarious exchange:

Susan: “You know, I’d like to get a dye job and a facial like her.”
Mark: “Isabella is a natural blond.”
Susan: “You sure?”
Mark: “We’re very good friends. [pause] She told me.”

When I first heard this line, I practically gasped with laughter at the little hint of naughtiness in Powell’s delivery of that last line. The meaning he injects into that weighted pause is just one of the things that makes him a severely-underrated actor. Source: trueclassics.net

"Blocked screenwriter Dick Powell finds himself cuffed to teenage spunkster Debbie Reynolds on Christmas Eve after the reformatory bobcat gets dragged in by a cop pal trying to help Powell get ideas for his upcoming juvenile delinquent opus.

This being a '50s comedy, there is no shortage of did-they-or-didn't-they innuendo inundating the other characters -- most notably socialite fiancée Anne Francis and attorney Les Tremayne, who's got Freudian knots of his own. This being a Frank Tashlin comedy, however, the leering is continually compounded by an obsession with the pitfalls of all-American success and a culture that, if pushed all the way, could lead to Weekend dismantling. Powell's soured-ingénue middle-age, just a step away from the cynical alcoholism of secretary and fellow aged '30s gold digger Glenda Farrell, gets a lift from Reynolds' corruptible/corrupting jailbait bounce, herself as much of a commodity as the fiancée he's forever avoiding." Source: www.cinepassion.org

Jake Gyllenhaal with Sarah Gadon in Toronto

New publicity stills of Michael Peña and Jake Gyllenhaal in "End of Watch" (2012) directed by David Ayer

Jake Gyllenhaal enjoys an ice cream with "An Enemy" co-star Sarah Gadon in Toronto, on July 6, 2012

Noir Icons (Tough Guys & Dames) video - extended version

Dana Andrews and Linda Darnell in "Fallen Angel" (1945) directed by Otto Preminger

Kirk Douglas and Barbara Stanwyck in "The Strange Love of Martha Ivers" (1946) directed by Lewis Milestone

Jane Greer and Robert Mitchum in "Out of the Past" (1947) directed by Jacques Tourneur

Gloria Grahame and Sterling Hayden in a still for ‘Naked Alibi’ (1954) directed by Jerry Hopper


A video featuring some film noir icons such as Humphrey Bogart, Lauren Bacall, Dana Andrews, Linda Darnell, Alan Ladd, Veronica Lake, Dick Powell, Claire Trevor, Barbara Stanwyck, Robert Mitchum, Jane Greer, Sterling Hayden, Burt Lancaster, Dan Duryea, Elizabeth Scott, Richard Widmark, Robert Ryan, Gloria Grahame, John Garfield, Lana Turner, Ida Lupino, Mary Astor, Rita Hayworth, Ava Gardner, William Holden, Jan Sterling, Joan Bennett, Audrey Totter, John Payne, Robert Montgomery, Marie Windsor, Peggy Cummins, Evelyn Keyes, Ella Raines, Carole Landis, etc.

Soundtrack: Helen Forrest with Artie Shaw & his Orchestra: "Paradise", "It's All Yours" and "Love Is Here", "Moonlight Serenade" by the Glenn Miller Orchestra, "Lady Midnight" by Leonard Cohen, and "You Never Can Tell" by Chuck Berry.

"Murder, My Sweet" (Dick Powell), "The Big Sleep" (Bogart), "Lady in the Lake"

June Allyson and Dick Powell (they stayed married since 19 August 1945 until his death 2 January 1963)

Humphrey Bogart kissing actress June Allyson, Dick Powell's wife

Humphrey Bogart -who bought the "Santana" sailboat from fellow actor Dick Powell (who had to abandon his love of sailing due to his sinus problems) in 1945 soon after marrying the young and strikingly beautiful Lauren Bacall- turned his yatch into his personal sanctuary. Aside from escape, Bogart also sought competition. Commemorative plaques in the galley, earned in the 1950 and 1951 San Clemente Island races and the 1953 Voyagers Yacht Club Channel Islands Race, prove that Bogart knew how to win navigating the sea too.

Humphrey Bogart as Philip Marlowe in "The Big Sleep" (1946) directed by Howard Hawks

Dick Powell as Philip Marlowe in "Murder, My Sweet" (1944) directed by Edward Dmytryk

"Dick Powell is even dryer in the part than Bogart, erasing entirely the crooner's geniality that had made him a popular fixture in Warner musicals. The only echo of the earlier Powell is the actor physical's grace -he has a dancer flowing ease. Powell's voice is flat, his face taut and frozen in the masklike noir vein, and he plays Marlowe as a blunt, no-nonsense professional. His work is wonderfully tight and economical; he is guarded and sardonic, but he falls a bit short of projecting Bogart's aura of absolute integrity." -"The Dark Side of the Screen: Film Noir" (2008) by Foster Hirsch

Dick Powell and Lucille Ball in "Meet the People" (1944) directed by Charles Reisner

"As Alain Silver points out in his commentary, Powell's casting was dramatically against type, so much so that they had to change the name of the picture so people wouldn't confuse it with a musical. Singing marine to hard boiled detective is quite a leap, and many people simply can't get past their strong association of Powell with musicals."

Mike Mazurki and Dick Powell in "Murder, My Sweet" (1944)

"Powell is often mentioned as Chandler's favorite incarnation of Marlowe, praise that is rightfully earned. Powell's Marlowe is both jaded and optimistic, world-weary yet open to life. He delivers certain lines with cutting self-deprecation, others with calculated softness. His Marlowe is always pushing buttons, probing people for weakness, wresting control of the situation. Though he isn't physically imposing (something about his face is too gentle to completely intimidate) his confident delivery and compromised sense of values sell his dangerous side."

"Powell's subtlety sufficiently sells the character. At one point, femme fatale Helen "confesses" to Marlowe about her role in the caper. Her face is buried in his shoulder and her features are in shadow. Though she is speaking, Marlowe is in the spotlight. His flashes of annoyance and the slight roll of his eyes say that he isn't buying a word of it. Nonetheless, he falls easily enough into her arms, for amusement or to keep up appearances. Helen Grayle may be one of the weakest femme fatales on record, because she never fully ensnares Marlowe. It is Powell's incorrigible surety that prevents Marlowe from being fully swallowed into the depths of this noir."

"Powell is solid, but the cinematography makes him all the better. Dmytryk and veteran cinematographer Harry J. Wild create a brooding environment where shadow threatens to overwhelm the characters. In the commentary, Silver reminds us that Wild and other crew members were RKO regulars who created the stunning visuals for Citizen Kane. Here we see the same deep focus, the same dramatic shading and composition. Dmytryk even throws in a drug trip which is oddly convincing. In terms of pure cinematography, 'Murder, My Sweet' is unmistakably noir, superbly handled noir at that. My favorite scene in that regard is one of the earliest, when Marlowe is "relaxing" in his office under the repetitive glare of a flashing neon sign."

"The music fits equally well. Composer Roy Webb has an absolutely staggering body of work: he had a career's worth both before and after 'Murder, My Sweet' (including Out of the Past, another film in this boxed set). Much of his work inhabits the shadows of film noir. Webb produces tension in the opening interrogation scene by repeating a toneless bass riff with tinkling counterpoints. It has been done time and again, but it works. Recent soundtracks I've heard that use the same trick somehow lack Webb's panache. Other moments of music truly set the tone, putting us on edge almost imperceptibly." Source: www.dvdverdict.com

Humphrey Bogart in "Dark Passage" (1947) directed by Delmer Davis

In Dark Passage, Vincent Parry (Humphrey Bogart) escapes from San Quentin, hoping to clear his name for the murder of his estranged wife. He's aided first by a sympathetic socialite (Lauren Bacall), then by a plastic surgeon who alters Parry's face to make him unrecognizable.

Unlike Lady in the Lake, Dark Passage uses subjective camerawork only for its first 45 minutes or so; after Parry's bandages come off, Bogart steps in front of the camera (he'd supplied a voice over until that point) and the film proceeds from an "objective" point of view. But for a handful of linking scenes in which Montgomery (as Marlowe) recounts bits of the story from his office, Lady in the Lake is shot exclusively in the first person.

Robert Montgomery as Philip Marlowe in "Lady in the Lake" (1947)

Robert Montgomery had originally wanted to use the subjective camera technique to film John Galsworthy's novel Escape, but was persuaded by the studio to take on a more contemporary, and bankable, adaptation. Ironically, the second first-person film of 1947 -- Delmer Daves' Dark Passage, adapted from the thriller by David Goodis -- bears close similarities to Galsworthy's work, which follows a convict's flight after he breaks out of prison.

Lauren Bacall as Irene Jansen in "Dark Passage" (1947)

But in the time that we share Parry's point of view, we fall off a truck and roll down a hill, climb a fence and hitch a ride, engage in fisticuffs with a nosy driver, snoop around Bacall's boudoir, and hallucinate under the effects of anesthesia.

Robert Montgomery as Philip Marlowe and Audrey Totter as Adrienne Fromsett in "Lady in the Lake" (1947) directed by Robert Montgomery

From a technical standpoint, Lady in the Lake is more ambitious, but Dark Passage is more polished. The latter also benefits from extensive location shooting in and around San Francisco, and a more motivated use of its subjective camera. Still, the limited range of movement available to the bulky cameras of the day makes both films seem rather slow and stiff. What is it about noir that seems to lend itself to the use of the subjective camera? Source: www.bighousefilm.com

“‘I always find what I want. But when I find it, I don’t want it any more.” —Raymond Chandler

Raymond Chandler wrote in a letter to Charles Morton that: “It doesn’t matter a damn what a novel is about.” He goes on to say that “the only fiction of any moment in any age is that which does magic with words.” In a letter to Mrs. Robert Hogan, Chandler stressed that “the most durable thing in writing is style, and style is the most valuable investment a writer can make with his time.”

The story of how the script of "Lady in the Lake" ended up being written is another odd chapter in Chandler’s life in Hollywood. Chandler took the job of adapting his novel to the screen, or so the story goes, to protect his work from “studio hacks.” But in a few weeks, he began to lose interest. “[Working on the screenplay] bores me stiff. Just turning over dry bones,” he wrote in a letter to James Sandoe. After 12 weeks Chandler left the project leaving behind an unfinished script that was given to a studio writer to salvage. He was opposed to the use of the subjective camera saying, “it’ll never work.”


Clips from the films "Murder, My Sweet" starring Dick Powell, Claire Trevor & Anne Shirley, "The Big Sleep" starring Humphrey Bogart, Lauren Bacall & Martha Vickers, and "Lady in the Lake" starring Robert Montgomery, Audrey Totter & Lila Leeds.