#62: The Strange Love of Martha Ivers (Lewis Milestone, 1946)

Released: July 24, 1946

Director: Lewis Milestone; Screenplay: Robert Rossen and Robert Riskin (uncredited) based on the story “Love Lies Bleeding” by John Patrick; Cinematography: Victor Milner; Music: Miklós Rózsa; Producer: Hal B. Wallis; Studio: Paramount Pictures

Cast: Barbara Stanwyck (Martha Ivers), Van Heflin (Sam Masterson), Lizabeth Scott (Antonia “Toni” Marachek), Kirk Douglas (Walter O’Neil), Roman Bohnen (Mr. O’Neil), Judith Anderson (Mrs. Ivers), Darryl Hickman (Sam as a boy), Janis Wilson (Martha as a girl), Mickey Kuhn (Walter as a boy)

- "Couldn't you see blackmail in his eyes?"

If star power appeals strongly to you, then The Strange Love of Martha Ivers is likely one that you feel should be moved much higher in these rankings. It has star power bursting from every crevice. The amount of big names and talent is astounding. The four leads are now seen all-time greats. Barbara Stanwyck had already staked a claim to be the toughest femme fatale in all of noir. Van Heflin was no newcomer, but this would kick off a wonderful noir run. Lizabeth Scott, in only her second film, shows the promise that she would more than live up to over the next twelve years. And making his acting debut, Kirk Douglas began his stellar career with a bang. The music was composed by the great Miklós Rózsa. The list of films with the name of producer Hal Wallis attached to it is unreal – Little Caesar, The Maltese Falcon, Sergeant York, Casablanca to name only a few. The screenplay was written by celebrated writer, and future director, Robert Rossen. Although not a regular in film noir, director Lewis Milestone had already become a prominent figure in Hollywood and snagged two Academy Awards for Best Director. Hell, the assistant director was only Robert Aldrich!

Typing these credentials out still amazes me. I suppose you could look at this one of two ways – that with this much talent involved, it would be hard for a movie not to succeed; or, you can give credit to Milestone, Wallis and company for bringing all of the elements together to create a compelling noir melodrama. I obviously lean toward the second interpretation. Like a great coach winning with the best players, there is something to be said for bringing everything together cohesively. The only knock I have is that although it is obviously well-crafted in every way, it can’t help at times feeling a bit like a run-of-the-mill studio production. Rossen’s script is gritty enough to lift the film above that description and the all-star cast boasts enough talent to sell it all.


The story follows the links in the lives of three childhood friends (or, at the very least, two childhood friends and an acquaintance) that grow up in Iverstown, Pennsylvania. The town is dominated by the dictatorial Mrs. Ivers (Judith Anderson), who essentially owns the entire town. Her young nice Martha despises the authority of her aunt and rebels by running off with her friend Sam. When the two are caught in a railcar, she is returned to her aunt, while Sam gets away. But when the two meet up later that night at the Ivers home, along with a pal named Walter O’Neil, a supposed accident occurs – Mrs. Ivers is killed and the young Martha inherits an incredible fortune. In the aftermath of the accident, Sam runs away, while Martha and Walter stay behind and grow into adulthood. Martha (Barbara Stanwyck), who busies herself managing her fortune, marries Walter (Kirk Douglas), who is the city prosecutor. When Sam (Van Heflin) wanders back to Iverstown, the quiet life of the couple is thrown into chaos. The problem is that as prosecutor, Walter had convicted an innocent man for the murder of Mrs. Ivers in hopes that it would cover any possible entanglement of Martha in the crime. Seeing Sam as the one person who can implicate them, Walter begins scheming to hustle him out of town. Meanwhile, old passions between Sam and Martha are ignited, which in turn are complicated by the beautiful Toni (Lizabeth Scott).

As I said, what stand out most to me are the Robert Rossen script and the performances that bring it to life. This does not attain its noir status on the basis of expressionistic lighting and inventive camera work found in other classics. Instead, the anguish felt by each character is what validates its inclusion in a countdown like this. All of the principles are suffering from psychological torment. The entire bond between Martha and Walter appears to be built on an uneasy alliance – Martha submits so as not to be implicated in the murder of her aunt, Walter stays in the relationship due to guilt about his sham prosecution. Both are quick to hold these things over the other’s head. Sam is the trigger to send both of them into full-scale panic. And even though he professes a loyalty to the recently arrived Toni, he seems like he is still at times unable to overcome the spell that Martha casts over him.


For those that haven’t seen it (assuming there are some), I won’t reveal anything about the conclusion, except to ask if there is any more iconic finish in noir? I can think of a few that might top it, but it’s as memorable as any other finale.

#99: Act of Violence (Fred Zinnemann, 1948)

Released: December 21, 1948

Director: Fred Zinnemann; Screenplay: Robert L. Richards based on a story by Collier Young; Cinematography: Robert Surtees; Music: Bronislau Kaper; Producer: William H. Wright; Studio: MGM

Cast: Van Heflin (Frank R. Enley), Robert Ryan (Joe Parkson), Janet Leigh (Edith Enley), Mary Astor (Pat), Phyllis Thaxter (Ann Sturges), Berry Kroeger (Johnny), Taylor Holmes (Gavery), Harry Antrim (Fred Finney), Connie Gilchrist (Martha Finney), Will Wright (Boat Owner)

- "You'd better check with your husband... I don't think he'd like that."

Here is another movie early in this countdown that I rate a bit lower than most other observers, but still an outstanding noir, coming from a director not normally associated with this type of film. It is an obvious precursor to classics like Cape Fear, and for the first thirty minutes or so it is every bit the equal of the later Mitchum-led film. Ultimately, it fails to maintain the tension created in the opening third, but the entire way through it is a feast for the eyes and a textbook in noir cinematography.

Possibly the high point of the entire film comes in the opening, wordless sequence. Cinematographer Robert Surtees employs the traditional darkness and shadows of the noir world to film a man limping past a nearby harbor. The camera follows him as he enters an apartment, methodically retrieves a revolver and picks up a suitcase. He then proceeds to a bus depot and hops a Greyhound for Los Angeles. The man, we come to learn, is Joe Parkson (Robert Ryan), a World War II veteran who survived years in a Nazi POW camp. He is trekking cross-country in order to confront a former WWII comrade who was housed in the camp with him. Joe is convinced that Frank Enley (Van Heflin) was the cause for the massacre of a number of inmates as they tried to escape from the camp. Joe was only wounded in the shootout, but the experience leaves him determined to get even with Enley. So he begins to stalk him like a lion does its prey, terrorizing Enley and his young wife Edith (Janet Leigh). His late-nights visits terrorize the couple, to the point that Enley has to physically retreat from his own home. After years of trying to bury his traitorous act, Enley is clueless as to how to respond to the reappearance of his former pal.


The lead performances are solid enough. I have to be honest that Robert Ryan has never been a personal favorite of mine, so if a movie depends upon him exclusively to carry a film, it’s probably going to fall short for me. Van Heflin fits the role of the ideal husband and businessman craftily hiding a dark secret. But the true stars remain Zinnemann and director of photography Robert Surtees – and in all honesty, I’m going to focus on Surtees, a man whose name should be more well-known than it is. Those that don’t immediately recognize his name will certainly be familiar with his credits – King Solomon’s Mines, Ben-Hur, Mutiny on the Bounty, The Graduate, The Last Picture Show, and The Sting just to name a few. What is the best cinematography that he produced in his career? That’s a highly debatable topic, but I would argue that The Last Picture Show is the only one that might outdo his work in Act of Violence. Surtees and Zinnemann combine to produce some of the most iconic shots in all of film noir. Just look at the screencap below, of Enley running out of a tunnel as if being pursued by some inescapable horror. That, to me, is a perfect summation of this entire style and era of films.


For me, the story at times falters, and there were certain episodes that had me scratching my head. For instance, I understand Enley’s need to just get away from the situation when Joe suddenly appears, but just running off by himself and leaving his wife to fend for herself seemed… bizarre. Little things like that, which probably did not bother others, but that stick with me. Stylistically, though, Act of Violence is top-flight noir, worth viewing if for no other reason than to marvel at the aforementioned opening sequence and the well-paced finale in which Frank makes peace with his past.