Showing posts with label Tourneur. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tourneur. Show all posts

Monday, July 5, 2010

#13: Jacques Tourneur


- "Everything must come from inside. It mustn’t be superficial.”

Jacques Tourneur unfortunately remains a director that is fully appreciated by only a select few. To those that delve deeply into the world of film noir or classic horror films, Tourneur is rightly recognized as being one of the preeminent stylists of either genre. For the general movie fan, though, his name is likely to elicit little recognition beyond Out of the Past. At the risk of sounding elitist, I know that most of those reading this post are much more familiar with the work of Tourneur beyond just his most famous film (I know my readers!). And so I think that I will get little argument from anyone when I give him such a prominent placement on this list.

When I hear the name “Jacques Tourneur” I instantly make the connection to film noir, which is interesting because in my opinion he only made one truly great noir - Nightfall pushes closes, but not quite. That one great noir, though, is the most quintessential film of the entire genre/style. I may have rated Out of the Past at #2 in my noir countdown, but I did so reluctantly, as I made clear in my entry. It should be the first film that any newbie to film noir watches and I have yet to meet a single person who dislikes it. Even with this fact, ranking his films shows what an accomplished director of horror Tourneur was. The movies he made with producer Val Lewton are among the finest horror movies ever made. I prefer I Walked With a Zombie, but I know knowledgeable critics who argue that Cat People transcends the horror label is actually a Top 10 all-time caliber film. What makes Tourneur’s horror films so great – and this includes Night of the Demon/Curse of the Demon – is how the scares and horror come not from shock tactics, but from psychological intrigues. Tourneur gets into your mind and plays on universal fears and neuroses. There is no need to for gore or blood; he is talented enough to terrify you without them.

And while he rarely receives recognition for his work with westerns, both that I have listed here are of very high quality. Wichita has recently become available via Warner Brother’s Archive series, which is how I was able to finally watch it. It is a fictionalized account of Wyatt Earp’s (played by Joel McCrea) days in the famed cattle town. I recommend it highly both for fans of westerns and of Tourneur. Canyon Passage is even better and fortunately can be obtained on DVD. I have long felt that if Canyon Passage had a name like Ford, Hawks or Mann attached to it, it would have a reputation as one of the most overlooked westerns of its era. Unfortunately, it has no such reputation, but it should.

1. Out of the Past (1947)
2. I Walked With a Zombie (1943)
3. Night of the Demon (1957)
4. Canyon Passage (1946)
5. Cat People (1942)
6. Wichita (1955)
7. The Leopard Man (1943)
8. Nightfall (1957)
9. Berlin Express (1948)
10. The Flame and the Arrow (1950)
11. Stars in My Crown (1950)

Friday, April 23, 2010

#2: Out of the Past (Jacques Tourneur, 1947)

Released: November 13, 1947 (U.S.A.)

Director: Jacques Tourneur; Screenplay: Daniel Mainwaring (as Geoffrey Homes), based on his novel Build My Gallows High; Cinematography: Nicholas Musuraca; Studio: RKO; Executive Producer: Robert Sparks; Producer: Warren Duff

Cast: Robert Mitchum (Jeff Bailey), Kirk Douglas (Whit Sterling), Jane Greer (Kathy Moffat), Paul Valentine (Joe Stefanos), Rhonda Fleming (Meta Carson), Steve Brodie (Jack Fisher), Virginia Huston (Ann), Dickie Moore (The Kid), Ken Niles (Eels)

Even I am shocked at this placement. This had to be the odds on favorite to take the top spot in the countdown and it came very close to doing so. If I were asked for a recommendation of a single film to show someone as an example of film noir, it would be Jacques Tourneur’s Out of the Past. If I had another day to think about it, this one might be swapped into the #1 position. It is such a toss-up for me on how to separate my top two that I almost need to go with the classic copout of 1a and 1b. But, I’ll refrain from taking the easy way out, and instead make the toughest call that I have had to make in any of the lists made at this blog.

It truly is a testament to the greatness of this film that I am scrambling to rationalize why it did not finish in the _top spot_. Think about what praise this is for a movie to be ranked #2 in a field as storied as film noir. Out of the Past is so good that it is jarring not to see it at numero uno.

The combination of director Jacques Tourneur and cinematographer Nick Musuraca is one of the great duos in the history of Hollywood. They worked together on a number of masterpieces – I Walked With a Zombie was chosen as my top film of 1943 and Cat People is routinely cited as one of the greatest horror pictures ever made – but even those classics pale in comparison to Out of the Past. The two masters were responsible for preparing the template that allowed Robert Mitchum to deliver his most iconic performance and for Jane Greer and Kirk Douglas to turn in towering performances as well.

If you can’t tell, I almost feel guilty not putting this at #1. No amount of analysis or examination can do justice to how great this film is and how well it holds up to countless viewings. Movies like Out of the Past are why I am obsessed with cinema.


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There are certain films that I find extremely hard to write about or critically examine. These are films that I have some kind of deep emotional connection to – favorites from my childhood, movies that I saw at a key point in my life, or films that were absolutely essential to my development as a fan of cinema. So, I’m usually hesitant to try and overanalyze why I love them so much. This is one of those films. Out of the Past was the first film noir that I ever watched and it was nothing short of earth-shattering for me. I’ve been a noir junkie ever since, getting my hands on every noir I can, but all the time failing to find a single one that matches this 1947 classic. So, with that warning, I’ll go ahead and try to analyze it anyway. If I’m gushing in the review, it’s because this is one of my all-time favorite movies.

Out of the Past is on a shortlist of noirs that I would categorize as quintessential. If someone were to come to me and ask for a definition the style, I would direct them to this and Double Indemnity. If neither of those caught their attention, then it would probably be safe to assume that noir is not for them. The reason for such a bold proclamation? Out of the Past contains all of the archetypal elements of great noir. Adapted from a pulp novel. Private eye main character. Ruthless femme fatale. Shady gangster businessman. A story told in large measure through flashbacks and narration. And an unrelenting sense of destiny at every turn.

Oh, and Robert Mitchum. If Humphrey Bogart crafted the mold for the cool, tough guy noir P.I., then Mitchum perfected it in this film.

The story opens with the Mitchum character of Jeff Bailey working at a gas station in a small rural town. Little is known about Bailey’s history and this secretive nature arouses a bit of suspicion in the small town of Bridgeport, as evidenced by the negative reaction of his girlfriend Ann’s (Virginia Huston) parents. His attempt at distancing himself from his past is destroyed when gangster and ex-acquaintance Joe Stefanos (Paul Valentine) tracks Jeff down at the gas station. Joe tells Jeff that his ex-employer, wealthy gambler Whit Sterling (Kirk Douglas), is looking for him and sets up a meeting.


At this point Jeff is forced to reveal the truth to Ann concerning his life before Bridgeport. While driving to the meeting with Whit, Jeff recounts the tale to Ann, warning her that “Some of it’s gonna hurt you.” He says that his real name is Jeff Markham and that he used to be a New York private eye. A few years earlier, Whit hired Jeff to track down his runaway girlfriend and $40,000 that disappeared with her. The search takes Jeff to Mexico, where he finds the stunningly beautiful Kathie Moffat (Jane Greer). Rather than bringing her back to Whit, Jeff falls in love with her. They sneak away back to the States and begin to live life as a normal couple. But Whit has not forgotten his former love interest, the $40,000 dollars, or the private eye that he hired and who then vanished. Whit enlists Jeff’s old partner, Jack Fisher (Steve Brodie), to track him, which he does after randomly spotting him at a local racetrack. When the partner finds the couple and tries to extort them, Kathie insists that he won’t be revealing anything to Whit. She ensures this by gunning Jack down, then speeding away from the scene and leaving Jeff to bury the body. With Kathie again in the wind, Jeff then moves to Bridgeport and attempts to finally be rid of his former life. This pipedream is forever wrecked when Joe catches up with him at the gas station. Realizing that he has no choice but to confront his past, Jeff agrees to the meet with Whit and plunges himself back into the shady world he tried so desperately to abandon.

While at the meeting with Whit, Jeff discovers that Kathie has reunited with the gangster. Rather than being angry with him, Whit enlists Jeff for another job. But sensing that he might be getting caught up in a frame, Jeff has to navigate a path that keeps him safe from his employer, the law, and a variety of characters he comes in contact with along the way. Will this job set Jeff free from his past? Can he pay his debt to Whit and then resume his life with Ann in Bridgeport? Whose side is Kathie truly on? I’ll let you discover the answers to these questions yourself, as it’s a wild ride for the entire 97 minutes, chock full of plotting, double crossing and tense face-offs. For those that have already seen the film, I’m sure you’ll agree that the answers are always shifting and keep the viewer wondering.

The story has been characterized by some as convoluted, and it is, but don’t let anyone fool you into believing that it’s incomprehensible. The script is expertly crafted by Daniel Mainwaring, adapted from his own novel Build My Gallows High (both written under the pseudonym Geoffrey Homes). For as many twists and turns that take place throughout the story, the screenplay is surprisingly tight, with none of the conspicuous plot holes that have plagued some otherwise great noirs. And the dialog… oh my, the dialog. The lines come shooting out of characters’ mouths like daggers. Some of my favorite lines in all of cinema come from this film and from Mitchum in particular. The examples are numerous and outstanding:

“Kathie: Oh, Jeff, I don't want to die!
Jeff: Neither do I, baby, but if I have to I'm gonna die last.”
-----------
“Ann: She can't be all bad. No one is.
Jeff: Well, she comes the closest.”
-----------
“Kathie: Oh Jeff, you ought to have killed me for what I did a moment ago.
Jeff: [dryly] There's time.”


I could go on for pages. I’ll forever maintain that Jeff’s response in the first example is my favorite line of all time. This dialog is razor sharp and the epitome of cool. The brilliance of these lines is in large measure due to Mainwaring, as just reading them is terrific. But a lot of credit must also go to Mitchum. As Jeff Bailey, he is the personification of the detached anti-hero and makes these words come alive. These witty expressions would be nowhere near as powerful if they weren’t being delivered by the droopy-eyed Mitchum, adorned in an overcoat and stylish hat and with a cigarette hanging between his lips. The way that Jeff Bailey navigates this underhanded world and interacts with such shady individuals, the role calls for someone to be able to add the necessary cynicism to the character. Mitchum is precisely the man. It’s no coincidence that despite being his first top-billing, this is the role for which Mitchum is best remembered. He is that good.

As previously mentioned, the major themes that are found throughout all film noir are on display here, but this film outdoes nearly all of them in key areas. The sense of danger hanging over a likeable, yet flawed character has never been done better. It is impossible to ignore the fact that Jeff _willingly_ walks back into a world and situation that he knows could very well be his downfall. The audience knows this too, and it is distressing to see him continue down a path that everyone involved – audience and characters, Jeff in particular – knows is not likely to end well. To say that there is a sense of doom hanging over the events would be an understatement. And yet, in the end, there is redemption of sorts. The closing scene between Ann and Jeff’s deaf gas station attendant is poignant and reveals that Jeff may have been in control of his destiny all along.


The direction of Jacques Tourneur also deserves recognition. Darkness and shadows are the staples of any director working in film noir. However, few were ever able to utilize them as effectively as Tourneur, as he juxtaposed them with beautiful pastoral settings. Whenever Jeff is in Bridgeport, the scenes are wide open and bright, setting Jeff and Ann in front of a backdrop of rolling mountains, streams, and the country. But as soon as Jeff comes into contact with anyone from his past – be it Kathy, Whit or Joe – the scenes become dark and gloomy. Faces are obscured by shadows and movement becomes sinister as silhouettes creep across the screen. These are interesting contrasts and emphasize the wildly different worlds that Jeff is attempting to jump between.


After spending so much time referring to this as the quintessential film noir, I have to admit that such praise is almost doing the movie a disservice. Pigeonholing it as the best of a specific genre is too restricting for a film this good. Out of the Past is not just one of the best films noir, it is one of the greatest films of all time, period.

Sunday, June 28, 2009

1943: I Walked with a Zombie (Jacques Tourneur)

Released: March 17, 1943

Director: Jacques Tourneur; Screenplay: Curt Siodmak and Ardel Wray based on a story by Inez Wallace; Cinematography: J. Roy Hunt; Studio: RKO Radio Pictures; Producer: Val Lewton

Cast: Tom Conway (Paul Holland), Frances Dee (Betsy Connell), James Ellison (Wesley Rand), Edith Barrett (Mrs. Rand), Christine Gordon (Jessica Holland), James Bell (Dr. Maxwell), Sir Lancelot (Calypso Singer)

Val Lewton oversaw nine horror classics at RKO, working with directors such as Jacques Tourneur, Robert Wise, and Mark Robson, all of whom would go on to prominence in later independent pursuits. However it would not be a stretch to argue that these directors produced some of their best work in these low-budget masterpieces. While each of the films in the cycle has developed loyal supporters, many seems to have settled on 1942’s Cat People as the gem of the bunch. It’s hard to argue that opinion, as the famed pool scene from that film is among my favorite in all of American cinema. But in deciding on my favorite of the Lewton RKO films, I’ll side with the producer himself, who is said to have declared his own personal favorite as the next year’s collaboration with Jacques Tourneur, I Walked with a Zombie.

I’ll even go a step further. Not only do I feel this is the best of Lewton’s films at RKO, it is also quite easily my favorite of 1943. It may have been a B-movie, but the atmosphere and suspense created is the equal of any full scale blockbusters.

The interesting thing about this film is that although classified as being in the horror genre, it’s not a horror film in the usual sense. I guess a more accurate description would be a mystery film with a tinge of the supernatural, but that’s not nearly as catchy or shorthand as simply calling it a horror movie. Still, it’s worth noting that I Walked with a Zombie isn’t unnerving due to violence or gory spectacles, as has become the staples of modern horror. Not only is there not much in the way of violence, there never really appears to be the threat of serious violence taking place. Instead, Tourneur and company combine a mixture of voodoo folklore and eerie use of shadows to craft a story that serves to make the viewer feel more uneasy than outright scared. There is a certainly a supernatural aspect to the film – after all, how could a film with such a title _not_ involve some type of mysticism – but it is different from other monster or zombie movies.


The story is a unique blend, combining a magazine article by Inez Wallace with certain elements of Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre. It follows the Betsy Connell (Frances Dee), a Canadian nurse who is hired by Caribbean plantation owner Paul Holland (Tom Conway) to care for his incapacitated wife. The woman, Jessica Holland (Christine Gordon), is still living, but does nothing more than eat and lay in bed, acting like a – surprise – zombie. After arriving on the island, Betsy also meets Paul’s half-brother Wesley Rand (James Ellison), who speaks disparagingly of his brother and seems to indicate to Betsy that Paul is the reason that Jessica is incapacitated. For his part, Paul does much to reinforce some of these suspicions, talking of death and beautiful things succumbing to it. Even so, Betsy begins to fall for Paul, increasing her determination to bring Jessica out of her paralyzed state.


Traditional medical treatments fail to help her in this mission and so she then begins to turn toward local practices, becoming intrigued by voodoo. The belief in zombies, or living dead beings such as Jessica, is a part of this voodoo tradition. There is a thriving community practicing the art, which traces its origins to the days of slavery on the island, and at the urging of a housemaid, Betsy decides that voodoo medicine may be Jessica’s only hope. This leads to one of the exemplary sequences in the movie, as the nurse leads her barely mobile patient on a clandestine journey through sugarcane fields and plantations in order to reach a voodoo ceremony.

The acting in the film is more than adequate, though it falls well short of amazing. This is unimportant, however, because the true stars of the film are director Jacques Tourneur and cinematographer J. Roy Hunt. I’m worried about becoming a broken record in continually praising the atmosphere of my favorite films, but this is such an integral part of the success of this movie that I have to say it again. It both looks and feels like a mystery set in the Caribbean is supposed to. This film is not just dark in certain scenes, but looks as if a cloud or fog is perpetually blanketing the set. This effect is a major reason why certain sections have the unsettling effect that they do. The previously mentioned journey through the plantation fields in search of the voodoo ceremony is spectacular. Adding to the brilliance of this sequence is Tourneur’s decision to let the elements be the only soundtrack accompanying the voyagers. As Betsy and Jessica make their trek, the howling wind and whistling of the plants amplify the uneasiness. Equally as stunning is the earlier sequence in which Betsy follows a then-unknown Jessica as she roams the plantation in sleepwalking-like trance.


The story also benefits from subtle incorporation of the island culture. The sound of the drum that the natives beat throughout the night gives the sense that Betsy is being led on a doomed march. I also love the manner in which the calypso singer (Sir Lancelot) and his song are handled. While Betsy and Wesley Holland dine at an outdoor café, you can hear the lyrics of the song in the background, recounting the story of the Holland family. You don’t initially see the calypso singer, but based on the reactions of Betsy and Wesley, it is understood that the story being told in the song is significant. Thus, the attention of the audience is drawn to the song and more of the previous story of the family is revealed in this fashion. It is a brilliant way of filling in background of the situation with Jessica and her husband without having a character reveal it in a more cliché manner such as an awkward speech or narration.

This is a short, entertaining, quick-moving thriller. It’s amazing that Lewton and Tourneur were able to make a movie that feels so fully developed while clocking in at only 69-minutes. Lewton produced many other outstanding films and Tourneur would go on to direct a film that I personally rank among my 4-5 favorites of all time (you’ll see it in the countdown very soon), but this is one that I always enjoy revisiting.

Rating: 9/10


Other Contenders for 1943: As I survey the entire roster of films for 1943, I see a lot of quality films but not quite the number of masterpieces as in other years of the 1940s. The films that I’ll highlight here are more personal favorites than films that are normally considered to be the best of the year. I Walked with a Zombie is not the only excellent collaboration between Lewton and Tourneur in this year, as they also teamed up to make The Leopard Man. I have always liked this one, while still considering it to be a little below the quality of I Walked with a Zombie or Cat People. I have to admit to not having seen the third Lewton film of this year, the Mark Robson directed The Seventh Victim, so I can't compare it. While most see it as a U.S. propaganda film, I’ve always had a soft spot for Howard Hawks’ Air Force. It might be overly patriotic and sentimental but for whatever reason these aspects have never bothered me. Alfred Hitchcock also released a legendary film in 1943, with Joseph Cotton starring in Shadow of a Doubt. While I don’t rate it as high as others that I know – I know some people consider it the equal of films like Rear Window and Psycho – I still think it is very well done and at least in the same stratosphere as his other major films. William Wellman’s western The Ox-Bow Incident is also very well done, as Henry Fonda is very good in his lead role. Also worth of recognition, while not director Henri-Georges Clouzot's best film, is the intriguing mystery Le Corbeau.

The strongest contender in this year, however, came from Denmark and famed director Carl Theodor Dreyer. If The Passion of Joan of Arc isn’t proof enough, Day of Wrath confirms that Dreyer could make a film that would just grab you by the gut and never let go. This story of witch trials and accusations is depressing for me, but it’s so well made and captivating that I couldn’t stop watching.

I would imagine that the Powell and Pressburger film The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp will register support as well. I like it, but it has never really been a favorite and was never in contention in my selection process.

Sunday, May 17, 2009

Out of the Past (Jacques Tourneur, 1947)

Released: November 13, 1947 (U.S.A.)

Director: Jacques Tourneur; Screenplay: Daniel Mainwaring (as Geoffrey Homes), based on his novel Build My Gallows High; Cinematography: Nicholas Musuraca; Studio: RKO; Executive Producer: Robert Sparks; Producer: Warren Duff

Cast: Robert Mitchum (Jeff Bailey), Kirk Douglas (Whit Sterling), Jane Greer (Kathy Moffat), Paul Valentine (Joe Stefanos), Rhonda Fleming (Meta Carson), Steve Brodie (Jack Fisher), Virginia Huston (Ann), Dickie Moore (The Kid), Ken Niles (Eels)

There are certain films that I find extremely hard to write about or critically examine. These are films that I have some kind of deep emotional connection to – favorites from my childhood, movies that I saw at a key point in my life, or films that were absolutely essential to my development as a fan of cinema. So, I’m usually hesitant to try and overanalyze why I love them so much. This is one of those films. Out of the Past was the first film noir that I ever watched and it was nothing short of earth-shattering for me. I’ve been a noir junkie ever since, getting my hands on every noir I can, but all the time failing to find a single one that matches this 1947 classic. So, with that warning, I’ll go ahead and try to analyze it anyway. If I’m gushing in the review, it’s because this is one of my all-time favorite movies.

Out of the Past is on a shortlist of noirs that I would categorize as quintessential. If someone were to come to me and ask for a definition the style, I would direct them to this and Double Indemnity. If neither of those caught their attention, then it would probably be safe to assume that noir is not for them. The reason for such a bold proclamation? Out of the Past contains all of the archetypal elements of great noir. Adapted from a pulp novel. Private eye main character. Ruthless femme fatale. Shady gangster businessman. A story told in large measure through flashbacks and narration. And an unrelenting sense of destiny at every turn.

Oh, and Robert Mitchum. If Humphrey Bogart crafted the mold for the cool, tough guy noir P.I., then Mitchum perfected it in this film.

The story opens with the Mitchum character of Jeff Bailey working at a gas station in a small rural town. Little is known about Bailey’s history and this secretive nature arouses a bit of suspicion in the small town of Bridgeport, as evidenced by the negative reaction of his girlfriend Ann’s (Virginia Huston) parents. His attempt at distancing himself from his past is destroyed when gangster and ex-acquaintance Joe Stefanos (Paul Valentine) tracks Jeff down at the gas station. Joe tells Jeff that his ex-employer, wealthy gambler Whit Sterling (Kirk Douglas), is looking for him and sets up a meeting.


At this point Jeff is forced to reveal the truth to Ann concerning his life before Bridgeport. While driving to the meeting with Whit, Jeff recounts the tale to Ann, warning her that “Some of it’s gonna hurt you.” He says that his real name is Jeff Markham and that he used to be a New York private eye. A few years earlier, Whit hired Jeff to track down his runaway girlfriend and $40,000 that disappeared with her. The search takes Jeff to Mexico, where he finds the stunningly beautiful Kathie Moffat (Jane Greer). Rather than bringing her back to Whit, Jeff falls in love with her. They sneak away back to the States and begin to live life as a normal couple. But Whit has not forgotten his former love interest, the $40,000 dollars, or the private eye that he hired and who then vanished. Whit enlists Jeff’s old partner, Jack Fisher (Steve Brodie), to track him, which he does after randomly spotting him at a local racetrack. When the partner finds the couple and tries to extort them, Kathie insists that he won’t be revealing anything to Whit. She ensures this by gunning Jack down, then speeding away from the scene and leaving Jeff to bury the body. With Kathie again in the wind, Jeff then moves to Bridgeport and attempts to finally be rid of his former life. This pipedream is forever wrecked when Joe catches up with him at the gas station. Realizing that he has no choice but to confront his past, Jeff agrees to the meet with Whit and plunges himself back into the shady world he tried so desperately to abandon.

While at the meeting with Whit, Jeff discovers that Kathie has reunited with the gangster. Rather than being angry with him, Whit enlists Jeff for another job. But sensing that he might be getting caught up in a frame, Jeff has to navigate a path that keeps him safe from his employer, the law, and a variety of characters he comes in contact with along the way. Will this job set Jeff free from his past? Can he pay his debt to Whit and then resume his life with Ann in Bridgeport? Whose side is Kathie truly on? I’ll let you discover the answers to these questions yourself, as it’s a wild ride for the entire 97 minutes, chock full of plotting, double crossing and tense face-offs. For those that have already seen the film, I’m sure you’ll agree that the answers are always shifting and keep the viewer wondering.

The story has been characterized by some as convoluted, and it is, but don’t let anyone fool you into believing that it’s incomprehensible. The script is expertly crafted by Daniel Mainwaring, adapted from his own novel Build My Gallows High (both written under the pseudonym Geoffrey Homes). For as many twists and turns that take place throughout the story, the screenplay is surprisingly tight, with none of the conspicuous plot holes that have plagued some otherwise great noirs. And the dialog… oh my, the dialog. The lines come shooting out of characters’ mouths like daggers. Some of my favorite lines in all of cinema come from this film and from Mitchum in particular. The examples are numerous and outstanding:

“Kathie: Oh, Jeff, I don't want to die!
Jeff: Neither do I, baby, but if I have to I'm gonna die last.”
-----------
“Ann: She can't be all bad. No one is.
Jeff: Well, she comes the closest.”
-----------
“Kathie: Oh Jeff, you ought to have killed me for what I did a moment ago.
Jeff: [dryly] There's time.”


I could go on for pages. I’ll forever maintain that Jeff’s response in the first example is my favorite line of all time. This dialog is razor sharp and the epitome of cool. The brilliance of these lines is in large measure due to Mainwaring, as just reading them is terrific. But a lot of credit must also go to Mitchum. As Jeff Bailey, he is the personification of the detached anti-hero and makes these words come alive. These witty expressions would be nowhere near as powerful if they weren’t being delivered by the droopy-eyed Mitchum, adorned in an overcoat and stylish hat and with a cigarette hanging between his lips. The way that Jeff Bailey navigates this underhanded world and interacts with such shady individuals, the role calls for someone to be able to add the necessary cynicism to the character. Mitchum is precisely the man. It’s no coincidence that despite being his first top-billing, this is the role for which Mitchum is best remembered. He is that good.

As previously mentioned, the major themes that are found throughout all film noir are on display here, but this film outdoes nearly all of them in key areas. The sense of danger hanging over a likeable, yet flawed character has never been done better. It is impossible to ignore the fact that Jeff _willingly_ walks back into a world and situation that he knows could very well be his downfall. The audience knows this too, and it is distressing to see him continue down a path that everyone involved – audience and characters, Jeff in particular – knows is not likely to end well. To say that there is a sense of doom hanging over the events would be an understatement. And yet, in the end, there is redemption of sorts. The closing scene between Ann and Jeff’s deaf gas station attendant is poignant and reveals that Jeff may have been in control of his destiny all along.


The direction of Jacques Tourneur also deserves recognition. Darkness and shadows are the staples of any director working in film noir. However, few were ever able to utilize them as effectively as Tourneur, as he juxtaposed them with beautiful pastoral settings. Whenever Jeff is in Bridgeport, the scenes are wide open and bright, setting Jeff and Ann in front of a backdrop of rolling mountains, streams, and the country. But as soon as Jeff comes into contact with anyone from his past – be it Kathy, Whit or Joe – the scenes become dark and gloomy. Faces are obscured by shadows and movement becomes sinister as silhouettes creep across the screen. These are interesting contrasts and emphasize the wildly different worlds that Jeff is attempting to jump between.


After spending so much time referring to this as the quintessential film noir, I have to admit that such praise is almost doing the movie a disservice. Pigeonholing it as the best of a specific genre is too restricting for a film this good. Out of the Past is not just one of the best films noir, it is one of the greatest films of all time, period.

Rating: 10/10