#32: Kiss of Death (Henry Hathaway, 1947)

Released: August 27, 1947

Director: Henry Hathaway; Screenplay: Ben Hecht and Charles Lederer based on a story by Eleazar Lipsky; Cinematography: Norbert Brodine; Music: David Buttolph; Producer: Fred Kohlmar; Studio: 20th Century Fox

Cast: Victor Mature (Nick Bianco), Brian Donlevy (Assistant District Attorney Louis D’Angelo), Coleen Gray (Nettie), Richard Widmark (Tommy Udo), Taylor Holmes (Earl Howser), Howard Smith (Warden), Karl Malden (Sergeant William Cullen), Anthony Ross (Big Eddie Williams), Millard Mitchell (Detective Shelby), Temple Texas (Buster), Jay Jostyn (District Attorney), J. Scott Smart (Skeets)

- “You know what I do to squealers? I let 'em have it in the belly, so they can roll around for a long time thinkin' it over…”

One of the biggest myths of classic Hollywood is that Henry Hathaway’s Kiss of Death is worthwhile solely because of the over-the-top screen debut of Richard Widmark. To be certain, Widmark’s performance as bloodthirsty hoodlum Tommy Udo is incendiary, so it is understandable that it would overshadow other elements of the film. It’s unfortunate, because there is so much more to it than just Widmark. Victor Mature turns in a fine performance as Nick Bianco and the film as a whole boasts a nice mix of Hollywood veterans (Brian Donlevy) and future stars (Karl Malden). But guiding it all is the steady hand of Henry Hathaway, who flawlessly combines realistic location shooting with Norbert Brodine’s classy cinematography to craft a great movie.


Mature is Nick Bianco, a professional thief who tries to provide for his family through various heists. On Christmas Eve, when he and a group of hoodlums rob a Manhattan jewelry store, an alarm is sounded and Nick is not able to make it out of the building. Apprehended by police, Nick is grilled over who his partners were in the robbery. District Attorney Louis D’Angelo (Brian Donlevy) offers him a light sentence in return for fingering the other men, but sticking true to the code of the streets, Nick refuses. Packed off to Sing Sing with a 20-year sentence, Nick does his time as best he can, until he learns that his depressed and lonely wife has committed suicide. Learning from former babysitter Nettie (Coleen Gray) that his two children have been relocated to an orphanage, Nick realizes that he desperately needs to get out of prison and take care of his kids. Nick contacts DA D’Angelo to provide information on his compatriots, but since the case is years old, the information does no good in reducing his sentence. But D’Angelo offers him another way out – if he will give them help get close to and take down rising hoodlum Tommy Udo (Richard Widmark), he will be released from his previous conviction. Paroled for his undercover work, Nick leaves prison and begins getting close to Udo. At the same time, he develops a relationship with Coleen and does his best to create the ideal family life with his new lady and his children. Things get dicey for everyone involved when Udo begins to learn what is going on, placing everyone close to Nick at extreme peril.

As strongly as I feel about my intro to this piece, there is no argument that Widmark is a tour-de-force in every scene he appears in. But the main criticism that I have read concerning the character of Tommy Udo – and really of the movie in general – is that Udo feels underdeveloped. I think this is missing the point of the film. Although Udo may feel like the center of attention, he actually isn’t. The real focus of the story is on Nick Bianco, a man desperately trying to go straight who never really has a chance to do so. While this is an incredibly familiar storyline, what makes it unique in this case is the reason why Nick doesn’t have a chance. It isn’t just the underworld that “pulls him back in,” as Michael Corleone would say decades later. It’s also the district attorney, his own lawyer, and other supposedly respectable personalities. Nick is being bombarded from every possible angle, leaving him and his family caught in the middle of powerful forces, both legal and illegal. So with this in mind, the lack of development of Tommy Udo as a fully fleshed-out person is unimportant to me. What matters is the dynamism of Widmark portraying one of the most sadistic and evil characters in Hollywood history. Those that have seen the film will undoubtedly be able to hear the childish giggle that he unleashes after committing horrendous acts of violence. Even more so than other cinema psychopaths, such as classic characters like Cody Jarrett, Udo seems to genuinely enjoy the violence and bloodshed. It is shocking even now to watch him push a helpless wheelchair-bound woman down a flight of stars. Imagine what it must have been like to see this in 1947.


Hathaway’s work is also noteworthy, as it alternates between documentary style shooting and gritty, noirish set pieces. Scenes showing Nick confined in prison feel real because, to a certain extent, they are. Hathaway took cast and crew to the actual Sing Sing Prison to film. Popular legend holds that the actors were processed through the institution as actual prisoners would be, adding a further sense of realism to everything filmed there. Likewise, shooting on the streets of New York is also gorgeous, particularly in the filming of the tense Manhattan jewel heist that opens the film.

There are certainly some minor details that I would have preferred to change – once again, there is narration that is completely unnecessary, and I could understand someone thinking there might be a bit too much moralizing in the story. Still, taken as a whole, I still think it’s a wonderful noir. It has a solid reputation, but with the exception of Widmark’s turn as Udo, I think it is actually a bit underrated as a whole.

#72: The Dark Corner (Henry Hathaway, 1946)

Released: April 9, 1946

Director: Henry Hathaway; Screenplay: Jay Dratler and Bernard C. Schoenfeld based on a story by Leo Rosten; Cinematography: Joseph MacDonald; Music: Cyril J. Mockridge; Producer: Fred Kohlmar; Studio: 20th Century Fox

Cast: Lucille Ball (Kathleen Stewart), Clifton Webb (Hardy Cathcart), William Bendix (Stauffer, alias Fred Foss), Mark Stevens (Bradford Galt), Kurt Krueger (Anthony Jardine), Cathy Downs (Mari Cathcart), Reed Hadley (Lt. Frank Reeves), Constance Collier (Mrs. Kingsley), Eddie Heywood (Himself)

- “I can be framed easier than ‘Whistler’s Mother’…”

There are some actors or actresses that are so inextricably linked to their most famous roles that it is almost impossible to separate them. Regardless of a viewer's generation or age, some actors are instantly identified by their most famous role. Not many reach this level, but a few instantly come to mind, and for whatever reason the majority of them come from TV. For instance, Jerry Seinfeld will never be anyone other than Jerry Seinfeld, the midlevel comedian of the famed sitcom. From here on out, James Gandolfini is going to have trouble being viewed as someone other than Tony Soprano. Possibly the greatest example of this phenomenon in the history of entertainment is Lucille Ball. It’s impossible to even say the name and not get images of her wacky routines of mashing grapes or stuffing candy into her mouth on a speeding assembly line. She will always be viewed as one of the great comediennes of all time. One of the marks of a truly great actor, I believe, is the ability to break away from past iconic performances and become completely believable in any new role. While her role here certainly won’t make you forget the classic run on I Love Lucy, The Dark Corner is at least validation that Lucy was versatile enough to pull off a traditional wise-cracking, sultry performance.


Lucy plays Kathleen Stewart, a secretary for the recently-paroled private investigator Bradford Galt (Mark Stevens). As Kathleen soon learns, Galt did two years in prison after being set up for a manslaughter charge by his ex-partner Anthony Jardine (Kurt Krueger). After being released from jail, Galt moved from San Francisco to Manhattan with the hopes of getting a completely fresh start. But when he takes the lovely Kathleen out for a night on the town, the discovery of a conspicuous tail in the form of a white suit-wearing private eye (William Bendix) proves to Galt that his past is still following him. After roughing up the PI, Galt is led to believe that Jardine is once again scheming to set him up. Still steaming from his earlier prison stint, Galt worries what he might do if he catches up with his old pal. This is why he tells Kathleen that she would be smart to forget about him and go on with her life. It doesn’t work, as Kathleen is a resolute woman who repeatedly tells Brad that she is “playing for keeps.” As the two search into the supposed plot by Jardine, and bodies start to fall, it slowly emerges that someone other than Jardine may be the one truly pulling the strings.

As has been pointed out in many noir surveys and overviews, The Dark Corner displays a similar postwar malaise to that of the more-celebrated The Best Years of Our Lives. In this case, rather than returning war veterans, though, Galt is an ex-con who has aspirations of resuming his life and work as a private eye. He hopes that a simple cross-country move will be enough to allow his life to go back to normal. But as Al Stephenson, Fred Derry and Homer find out in William Wyler’s classic, it’s never that easy to go back to the way things were. Right from the start of the movie Galt is reminded of his history – a detective comes to keep tabs on him and then he sees a man following him that night. So while his quick use of violence is still jarring in a “hero,” it seems at least understandable as more is revealed about his past. Mark Stevens plays Galt well, never making him an over-the-top manic, but maintaining a seething anger about the course his life has taken. The entire cast turns in admirable performances, and it is enjoyable to see the often affable William Bendix playing a tough guy role.


No introduction is needed for director Henry Hathaway and director of photography Joseph MacDonald – this is Hathaway’s third appearance in the countdown, while MacDonald’s work has been included four previous times! In terms of visual artistry, my favorite work from either man probably remains the beautiful Technicolor of Niagara. They still turn in impressive work here, making great use of lights and darks according to specific characters and settings. When Galt is involved, particularly in his office or when he is interacting with equally shady characters like Bendix’s Fred Foss, shadows obscure faces. The lighting of Hardy Cathcart (Clifton Webb) in his art gallery is considerably lighter, until his role in the plotting begins to be revealed and things grow dimmer around him as well. They also combine for some wonderfully simple, memorable touches, like photographing a hugging Galt and Kathleen via the mirror they are standing in front, giving a shot from the rear and the reflection of the faces.

The screenplay from Jay Dratler and Bernard Schoenfeld is also very good, with some wonderfully dry one-liners and repartee between Galt and Kathleen. My personal favorite is the discussion between the two about the man following them. Kathleen tells says she has never been followed before. Bradford quickly responds: "That's a terrible reflection on American manhood." Lines like this are sprinkled throughout.

#82: Niagara (Henry Hathaway, 1953)

Released: January 21, 1953

Director: Henry Hathaway; Screenplay: Charles Brackett, Richard L. Breen and Walter Reisch; Cinematography: Joseph MacDonald; Music: Sol Kaplan; Producer: Charles Brackett; Studio: 20th Century Fox

Cast: Marilyn Monroe (Rose Loomis), Joseph Cotten (George Loomis), Jean Peters (Polly Cutler), Max Showalter (Ray Cutler), Dennis O’Dea (Inspector Starkey), Richard Allen (Patrick), Don Wilson (Mr. Kettering), Lurene Tuttle (Mrs. Kettering), Russell Collins (Mr. Qua), Will Wright (Boatman)

- “You have to start laying your plans at thirteen for a dress like that…”

Compiling this list of my 100 favorite noirs reminded how underappreciated Henry Hathaway is. Film noir fanatics certainly recognize his talents, but even with a lot of enthusiasts, it is usually his masterpiece Kiss of Death that receives all the attention. In fact, noirs probably aren’t even the first style of films that people associate with Hathaway. Instead, the average classic movie fan will remember him for his westerns of the 1960s. But there is much more to his output and he made a number of outstanding films during the noir era. He was successful making a number of varied films within the genre, ranging from the newspaper noir of Call Northside 777 to the gangster revenge scenario of Kiss of Death, and so much more. Taking the time to watch these films for the second and third time has me appreciating what a tasteful, stylish director Hathaway was.


His visual style is enough to lift this run-of-the mill noir melodrama much higher than it would have placed in this countdown if a less interesting director had been at the helm. The main limitation of this 1953 release was likely the strongest selling point upon its initial release. Darryl F. Zanuck, then head of 20th Century Fox, thought that budding starlet Marilyn Monroe would fill the role of Rose Loomis perfectly, and thus saw the project as a star vehicle to further her popularity. This meant that large sections of the story were centered on showcasing the still-developing actress, depending almost entirely on the sheer allure of her sexuality to carry the story in places. She very nearly succeeds, but even the blond bombshell is not enough to completely hide flaws in the story.

Monroe is Rose Loomis, a gorgeous woman who is staying in a cabin at the Niagara Falls resort with her husband George (Joseph Cotten), a man recently released from a veterans mental hospital. Even into the 1950s, George remains scarred by his experiences in the Second World War. Also staying at the cabin are Ray (Max Showalter) and Polly (Jean Peters) Cutler, a recently-married couple who are finally taking a delayed honeymoon. The Cutlers instantly begin to question what is keeping the other couple together, as George never leaves the darkened hotel room, while Rose walks around the resort in a tight-fitting pink dress with the intention of turning the heads of every male in the zip code. While sightseeing around the Falls, Polly spots Rose kissing another man. Slowly, it begins to emerge that the two may be plotting to rub out George. Soon afterward, George is reported missing and Rose feints when called to the morgue to identify a recovered body. Assuming that George has died, the Cutlers carry on with their honeymoon as best they can – until Polly believes that she has spotted George at the Falls. Ray assures Polly that she is seeing things, but Rose knows the truth and begins scrambling to make a getaway.

The screenplay is limited, with a few implausibilities in the narrative and a somewhat predictable storyline. But the principal actors still manage to deliver convincing performances. Monroe’s Rose is put over on the sheer sexual magnetism she is able to exude on the screen. Rather than using such a description to degrade her acting ability, I think it’ s a compliment, as this is what the character calls for. Joseph Cotten shows some versatility in delivering one of the more unusual, sinister roles of his career. And Jean Peters is a good counterpoint to the vibrant Monroe, playing Polly as an intimidated wife, daunted by the spell that Rose is capable of casting over men. It is an interesting comparison between the two, as Peters as Polly Cutler is beautiful as well, but even still she is no match for the splendor of Rose.


Regardless of performances and screenplay, it is Henry Hathaway that elevates the entire production. Teaming with cinematographer extraordinaire Joseph MacDonald (who is already making his third appearance in the countdown!), they make spectacular use of Technicolor, while maintaining the sinister atmosphere on display in the best of noirs. The setting is conducive to memorable scenic shots and many of them are stunning, such as the entire late-night party scene outside of the cabins at the resort. Shots of characters in a darkened room, peering through venetian blinds toward a nighttime view of the Falls are gorgeous. Such particular scenes are very impressive, with Hathaway displaying the skills of a seasoned silent film director, expressing emotion without a single line of dialog. The murder sequence, with the sound falling out and the cuts to shots of the hanging bells, is spectacular. The guilty realization of the act by George, after spotting the red lipstick is equally impressive. So while it is not the best Hathaway has to offer in noir, it might be his most impressive achievement, as the movie likely should not come across as well as it does.

#95: Call Northside 777 (Henry Hathaway, 1948)

Released: February 1, 1948

Director: Henry Hathaway; Screenplay: Jerome Cady (screenplay), Jay Dratler (screenplay), Leonard Hoffman (adaptation), Quentin Reynolds (adaptation) based on articles by James P. McGuire and Jack McPhaul; Cinematography: Joseph MacDonald; Music: Alfred Newman; Producer: Otto Lang; Studio: 20th Century Fox

Cast: James Stewart (P.J. McNeal), Richard Conte (Frank Wiecek), Lee J. Cobb (Brian Kelly), Helen Walker (Laura McNeal), Betty Garde (Wanda Skutnik), Percy Helton (Mailman), George Tyne (Tomek Zaleska), Kasia Orzazewski (Tillie Wiecek), Paul Harvey (Martin Burns), John McIntire (Sam Faxon), Howard I. Smith (Palmer), E.G. Marshall (Rayska)

- “That's the trouble with being innocent… you don't know what really happened.”

After venturing to postwar Tokyo yesterday, the countdown returns to the traditional urban settings of noir crime dramas. Although, we do so with a movie that some will argue is not truly a film noir. There is no femme fatale or the expected flawed central character scrambling to self-created obstacles. I stand by the contention that this is definitely a noir, possibly the preeminent example of the “newspaper noir” subset that I have seen, and that the cynicism that pervades the best noirs is displayed here, it is just that it is seen in different places.

Call Northside 777 is loosely based on the true story of a skeptical Chicago reporter that worked to prove the innocence of a man convicted of murdering a police officer. The reporter, P.J. McNeal (based on real-life reporter James P. McGuire), is portrayed by the incomparable Jimmy Stewart, an excellent casting choice. When you see Jimmy Stewart, you know that the character is someone that will fight for the “good side” all the way to the end. In this tale, he is assigned to the story after his newspaper superiors come across a classified ad taken out by an aging woman (Kasia Orzazewski) that offers $5,000 to anyone that can provide evidence to exonerate her convicted son. Frank Wiecek (Richard Conte) was picked out of a lineup by a witness to a grocery store robbery (Betty Garde) and sentenced to life imprisonment. At the time of his meeting with McNeal, Frank had already served eleven years. Disbelieving at first, McNeal gradually comes to believe that Wiecek’s professions of innocence are the truth. The newspaper then picks up the story as a crusade to free an innocent man, with McNeal leading the charge. When the paper bales on the campaign, McNeal refuses to give up and continues the search throughout the city of Chicago.


It is this trip through 1940s Chicago and the Polish neighborhoods of the Wiecek family and other first and second generation immigrants that add color to a familiar storyline. The tight-knit quality of these communities comes through strongly as McNeal navigates through the tenements, bars, and back allies of the area. The storytelling is done in documentary style, relying heavily on the nature of the work of reporters. The camera simply follows McNeal as he pounds the pavement, chasing down every possible lead, interviewing personalities as he finds them, and continually pouring over stock files and photos, hoping to unearth a detail that had previously been overlooked.


The skepticism is found here in the realization that almost everyone that McNeal encounters is at least somewhat cautious in their responses. Whether true or not, it appears to McNeal – and, by extension, the viewer – that people are being guarded in everything that they do. People are not necessarily downright “dirty” or deceptive, but they are certainly reluctant to admit wrongdoing. So we see things like the police believing that justice has been served when Wiecek is originally convicted, but then becoming unwilling to admit to wrongdoing or assist McNeal in his investigation when evidence begins to turn up showing that they may have jailed the wrong man. Similarly, it is never suggested that Wanda Skutnik maliciously intended to identify an innocent man. The procedure used by the police was flawed, allowing Skutnik’s faulty identification. But her obstinacy in admitting her mistake means that the innocent man will continue to sit in prison. And so we actually do see the dynamic of a single character fighting to overcome seemingly insurmountable obstacles. Perhaps they do not arise out of his flawed nature, but they are there all the same.