Review #1,477: 'Phantom Lady' (1944)

German-born filmmaker Robert Siodmak fleed Adolf Hitler twice throughout his career, journeying to and flourishing in France after Joseph Goebbels called him out in the press, and later in Hollywood as the Nazis spread through Europe. It was in the U.S. that he made the pictures he is now most fondly remembered for: tough, dark and distinctly unpretentious film noirs like The Killers, The Dark Mirror, Cry of the City and Criss Cross, many of which are considered some of the best the genre has to offer. Before he was allowed the chance to place his stamp on his works, Siodmak churned out screwball comedies like Fly-by-Night and even a Universal horror film, Son of Dracula. His first venture into noir came in 1944 with Phantom Lady, a film that leaned more towards Hitchcockian thriller territory than the hard-boiled crime dramas that would come later.

Every great noir needs a chump, and we are introduced to Phantom Lady's unfortunate patsy Scott Henderson (Alan Curtis) as he sits slumped at a bar. He has tickets for a show but his date has stood him up, so he innocently asks the only female in the bar, played by Fay Helm, if she will accompany him. The woman, whose name we don't learn until much later in the film, is clearly emotionally unstable, initially turning down Scott's offer before agreeing under strict terms: they won't reveal their names or discuss anything personal. They go to see the show, where the mystery woman's rather outrageous hat is also being worn by the star on the stage, Estela Monteiro (Aurora Miranda), enraging her and amusing the diminutive band drummer Cliff (Elisha Cook Jr.). The night ends with a hurried goodbye, and Scott returns home to find three policemen waiting for him. As they lead him to the bedroom, his wife lays dead, strangled with one of Scott's own neckties.

Of course, Scott has a perfect alibi, but he never learned her name, and everybody they encountered that night - a bartender, a taxi driver, and even Monteiro - all deny seeing the woman. Facing the death penalty, Scott's only hope to unravel the mystery is his beautiful and loyal secretary Carol (Ella Raines) and sympathetic Police Inspector Burgess (Thomas Gomez). Phantom Lady's biggest failing in trying to replicate the genius of Hitchcock is the near complete absence of suspense. The wrongfully-accused thriller was done far better by the man himself over a decade later with The Wrong Man, and when Scott's old pal Jack Marlow (Franchot Tone) shows up halfway through, all sense of whodunit goes flying out the window. Still, Phantom Lady gets by on sheer class. Siodmak elevates the plot-hole ridden story with his trademark weaving of light and dark, and influences brought over from the days of German Expressionism makes this a more visually stimulating experience. It's also a lot of fun: the outrageous plot shares more in common with an Argento giallo than a Raymond Chandler paperback.


Directed by: Robert Siodmak
Starring: Franchot Tone, Ella Raines, Alan Curtis, Aurora Miranda, Thomas Gomez, Fay Helm, Elisha Cook Jr.
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,289: 'High Sierra' (1941)

It may be difficult to believe now, but there was once a time when Hollywood icon Humphrey Bogart played second-fiddle to a bigger star, usually lumped with the role of deadbeat gangster or short-fused psychopath. In movies like Angels with Dirty Faces, The Roaring Twenties and this, High Sierra, he find-tuned himself into the fast-talking leading man he would later become in the likes of The Maltese Falcon, Casablanca and The Treasure of the Sierra Madre. With High Sierra, his name appeared below that of the magnificent Ida Lupino, but the film starts and ends with Bogart, and he appears in near enough every scene. He plays Roy 'Mad Dog' Earle, a career criminal freshly sprung from prison who soon realises that his generation of the respectable, honourable gangster is quickly dying out.

After serving eight years for armed robbery, Roy receives a governor's pardon arranged by his old boss Big Mac (Donald MacBride). He is to use his experience and expertise to oversee a heist of a swanky new Californian resort hotel, and heads into the country to hook up with his new crew. On his way into the mountains, Roy meets the young and pretty Velma (Joan Leslie), and decides to use the money stolen from the hotel to pay for an operation to correct her clubfoot, and win her affections in the process. Only his new team-mates Red (Arthur Kennedy) and Babe (Alan Curtis) are young, brash and green, and inside man Mendoza (Cornel Wilde) can't be trusted to keep his mouth shut. The only saving grace is Babe's sort-of girlfriend Marie (Lupino), who seems to be the only one of Roy's new rag-tag gang of thieves who can be trusted. She falls in love with the old-school Roy, and after the robbery naturally goes wrong when somebody gets shot, the two must flee into the hills and live as fugitives.

Director Raoul Walsh, working with a script by John Huston and W.R. Burnett, seems to have believed that both the gangster and the gangster movie were slowly dying out back in 1941. This isn't true of course, as gangster films are just as popular today as they have ever been, but this air of melancholy helps distinguish High Sierra from the countless other genre pictures of the era. Lupino and Bogart are both superb as the damaged, lonely criminals. Roy has his heart set on the younger Velma, who represents everything he isn't and never will be, while failing to realise that Marie may actually be the woman he's looking for. Only Marie is just as broken as Roy, and the ageing gangster is looking to make a clean break and a fresh start. When the subjects of gangster movies and film noir crop up, High Sierra doesn't tend to get mentioned much, but it's a terrific and often gripping crime drama, with an engrossing romance at its very core.


Directed by: Raoul Walsh
Starring: Ida Lupino, Humphrey Bogart, Alan Curtis, Arthur Kennedy, Joan Leslie
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie