Black, No Sugar

In the past, we lived in a world in which things were black and white. Men were rough and course, women were alluring, people said things like “toots” and “now look here, see” and everyone was just a little bit suspicious. The world was a dream and we were merely its audience. Of course, in reality, things are not as simple as this and whilst we may enjoy the concept of stark contrast, in the real world, it simply doesn’t work. It was down to cinema for presenting us with such a duplicitous view of the world and in film noir, nothing was what it seemed.

Perhaps one of the most influential cinematic movements of all time, film noir was given its name due to its stark representation of lightness and the dark, both visually and metaphorically. Christened and beheld by the pioneers of the French New Wave, film noir tended to be Hollywood crime dramas filmed in the 1940s and ‘50s, in the midst of the golden age. Film noir has given us some of our most treasured cinematic moments and whilst narrative plots may seem a little outmoded to us now, there’s no denying their entertainment value.

The first thing we think of when we think about film noir is probably the figure of the femme fatale. Cut throat, impossibly beautiful and sharply self-aware, the femme fatale is the prime source of all film noir drama, ever. In Double Indemnity, Billy Wilder presents us with one of the most famous femme fatales of all time, a self-styled white widow who convinces another man to kill her husband. Walter Neff meets Phyllis Dietrichson whilst doing door to door calls as a claims adjuster. Looking initially for faulty claims, he is soon hooked by Phyllis’s charm, drawn into the glimmer of her ankle bracelet. The film is a classic example of the genre, punctuated by gloom and distrust throughout. Whilst Phyllis is obviously painted as the bad guy, it is never made entirely apparent whether or not we can trust Neff. In the closing act, it’s unclear who is in the right and the film pushes the envelope right until the end. This is bold filmmaking and it’s clear to see why it has become so definitive of the genre.

Kiss Me Deadly has similar themes to those of Double Indemnity but whilst the latter focuses its tensions in the minutiae of human interactions, Kiss Me Deadly expands its gaze, focusing on the downfall of the entire world. After being pulled over by a hitchhiker, Mike Hammer enters a whole new world, meeting mysterious woman after mysterious woman on the hunt for a mysterious box. The narrative of the film is very much centred in the Pandora’s Box mythology, presenting the obsession of humanity in the face of the unknown. Inevitably, the box is discovered and when it is opened, the very worst happens. Whilst Kiss Me Deadly might seem more similar to a science fiction film in its plot line, its themes are very much within the film noir tradition. The secret box is akin to the allure of the woman and the dangers of plunging into an illicit affair.

Of course, film noir isn’t all about the femme fatale and The Night of the Hunter is perhaps the best proof of this. A cinematic classic, the film follows a serial killer who targets seductive women, entering their homes as a new suitor and punishing them for their actions. The film centres largely on the children of one doomed mother as they escape the deadly grip of their new stepfather. Journeying across the country, they soon stumble into the peaceful home of an elderly lady, finding a place to be loved whilst danger lurks outside. The film focuses on the stark contrast between innocence and corruption and, although the ‘fallen’ woman is at the centre of the plot, it is the children who are the stars. The film is less one dimensional than other film noirs, proving that seduction is not necessarily an evil to be punished; perhaps it is those who judge them that we should look at a little more closely.

Sometimes, though, there is just one person who escapes the clutches of everyone around him, who is able to deceive even his closest friends into believing that he is something other than he pretends to be. Carol Reed’s hugely famous The Third Man looks at this very thing, its darkness centred on a man who is largely absent throughout the film. The whole crux of the film lies in the presence of a mystery ‘third’ man, who witnesses believe was present at the death of American Harry Lime. Of course, Harry Lime turns out to be the third man himself, having faked his own death to escape the grip of authorities. The film is all about duplicity and how, when we deceive those around us, we end up splitting ourselves in two, inhabiting two conflicting personalities. The light and dark of the film exist in Harry’s real self and how others view him. When the truth is aired, his very identity is shattered.

Film noir isn’t just confined to the ‘40s and ‘50s, however; in 1984, the Coen brothers released their directorial debut, a neo-noir crime thriller modelled on early film noir. Blood Simple follows the same complexities of any traditional film noir, winding its plot in a seemingly incomprehensible knot, only to unravel it all at the end. Unlike traditional film noir, however, there seems to be little linear intent to the actions; each event follows directly from the one that came before with little explanation. There is no greater meaning to the film, all is at surface value. And yet, it doesn’t feel any less relevant. The film clearly parodies the genre in its meaninglessness and whilst it is darkly comic, it feels like the natural next step for the genre.

 

Modern film noir is a very rare thing indeed. Whilst filmmakers use early models as influence in their work, the standard model of the genre seems to be a little out-moded now. When before, things were more simple, there is no longer a clear sense of right and wrong, reflected in Blood Simple. When we look back at film noir, we realise how clean cinema once was. When we look to the future, we see just how far we have come.