Quote of the Day! (1952) if you want to play with matches that’s your business

SCANDAL SHEET (1952)

Directed by Phil Karlson with a screenplay by Ted Sherdeman, Eugene Ling and James Poe. Based on the novel by Sam Fuller. With a score by the prolific George Dunning and gritty cinematography by Burnett Guffey (All the Kings Men 1949, From Here to Eternity 1953, Birdman of Alcatraz 1962, Bonnie and Clyde 1967).

Broderick Crawford is the new editor Mark Chapman of a New York newspaper who manages to grow the circulation of the ailing paper. But he sacrifices morality when it comes to increasing the range of his audience. He winds up turning the newspaper into a trashy tabloid rag, “pandering to the passions of the base moron.” John Derek plays top reporter Steve McCleary and Harry Morgan is wonderful as a wise cracking photographer Biddle, both who are chasing down a sensational front page grabber about a lurid murder. At the center is a Lonely Hearts Club dance sponsored by Chapman’s wife (Rosemary DeCamp) whom he deserted years ago. When Charlotte Grant (DeCamp) threatens to cause Chapman trouble in a fit of rage he accidentally kills her. He stages her death to look like she slipped in the bathtub, hitting her head on the faucet. McCleary senses something isn’t right and convinces the cops that it’s a case of murder. In order to avoid getting caught Chapman must plan to kill again to cover his tracks, so he enlists McCleary hoping to divert his attentions away from the truth. The film also co-stars Donna Reed as McCleary’s more traditional colleague, Henry O’Neill, and a cast of great character actors.

Biddle: “You know that wasn’t a bad looking dame. Too bad the guy used an axe on her head. Spoiled some pretty pictures for me.”

Steve McCleary “Very rare items. Pictures of a dame with her mouth shut.”

CLASH BY NIGHT (1952)

Directed by Fritz Lang with a screenplay by Alfred Hayes based on the play by Clifford Odet. The film stars Barbara Stanwyck as Mae Doyle D’Amato, Paul Douglas as Jerry D’Amato Robert Ryan as the volcanic Earl Pfeiffer, Marilyn Monroe as Peggy, J. Carrol Naish as Uncle Vince.

Clash By Night is a moody piece of noir with Barbara Stanwyck playing the world weary and cynical Mae Doyle, who returns home to her fishing community after her disillusionment living in the city. “Home is where you come when you run out of places.” Fisherman Paul Douglas is the kindhearted lug who winds up falling for Mae though he knows she’s filled with a fiery discontentment. Once Jerry introduces Mae to his friend Earl, an alienated woman-hater, the sexual tension develops. Earl spends his time getting drunk and obsessing about his stripper wife. At first Mae feels an instant aversion toward the gruff misogynist. Escaping the gravitational pull by the sexual attraction she feels with the dangerous Earl pushes her closer to marrying the clueless Jerry who is confounded by his sudden good fortune. Unfortunately this does not keep Earl away from Mae as he pursues her, who is by now disenchanted with playing the dutiful housewife and mother. Stanwyck is powerful as the unfaithful but guilt-ridden Mae. The film co-stars Marilyn Monroe as Peggy who idolizes Mae’s independent streak. J. Carrol Naish plays Paul Douglas’ no good Uncle Vince who mooches off his nephew. More of a dark Soap Opera than noir for it’s lack of crime, the film’s moodiness and gloomy edginess holds for me a place for Clash By Night in the noir cannon.

Mae Doyle D’Amato: “What do you want,Joe, my life’s history? Here is is in four words: Big ideas, small results.”

Peggy: “Weren’t you ever in love, Mae?”

Mae Doyle: “Once.”

Peggy: “Where?”

Mae Doyle: “Saint Paul. He was big too, like Jerry. I’ll say one thing. He knew how to handle women.”

Peggy: “Is that what you want from a man?”

Mae Doyle: “Confidence! I want a man to give me confidence. Somebody to fight off the blizzards and floods! Somebody to beat off the world when it tries to swallow you up! Me and my ideas.”

DON’T BOTHER TO KNOCK (1952)

Directed by British horror maestro Roy Ward Baker he brings a taut psychological spring waiting to be uncoiled. With a screen play by Daniel Taradash based on the novel by Charlotte Armstrong. Cinematography by Lucien Ballard (The Killing 1956, The Wild Bunch 1969, The Getaway 1972) who creates closed in frames and a sense of paranoia and claustrophobic dread.

Marilyn Monroe is quite revelatory as Nell Forbes a very disturbed young woman who lives in a fantasy world and is a dangerous psychotic staying in a New York City hotel. Elisha Cook Jr. is the hotel elevator operator who is keeping an eye on his mental patient sister and tries to keep her out of trouble. He recommends that she babysit Jim Backus and Lurene Tuttle’s daughter. This turns out to be a very very bad idea!

In the mean time Richard Widmark is Jed Towers the hard-hearted airline pilot who has just been dumped by his torch singer girlfriend (Anne Bancroft). Towers sees Nell through the window and gets the idea that the two can get together and share a drink. When Nell starts having delusions that Jed is her dead boyfriend, he realizes that something is wrong with this beautiful waif.

Jed Towers: “Are you the girl in 809?”

Nell Forbes: “Why, yes. Who’s this?”

Jed Towers: “I’m the guy in 821. Across the court. Can I ask you a question?”

Nell Forbes: “I don’t know. I suppose so. Are you sure you want me?”

Jed Towers: “Yeah. You’re the one I want, alright. Are you doing anything you couldn’t be doing better with somebody else?”

Nell Forbes: “I guess I’ll have to hang up!”

Jed Towers: “Why? You cant get hurt on the telephone.”

Nell Forbes: “Who are you?”

Jed Towers: “I told you. The man across the way. A lonely soul”

Nell Forbes: “You sound peculiar.”

Jed Towers: “I’m not peculiar. I’m just frustrated. I got a bottle of rye. And as I was saying, what are you doing?”

 

Jed Towers: “You and your wife fight, argue all the time?”

Joe the Bartender: “Some of the time she sleeps.”

THE NARROW MARGIN (1952)

Directed by Richard Fleischer with a screenplay by Earl Felton from a story by Martin Goldsmith and Jack Leonard. With the polished, compelling and claustrophobic cinematography by George E. Diskant. (They Live By Night 1948, On Dangerous Ground 1951).

Charles McGraw plays the tough Det. Sgt. Walter Brown who is assigned to protect a mobster’s widow Marie Windsor as Mrs. Frankie Neall, who is traveling by train from Chicago to Los Angeles, while the vicious assassins try with fervor to take Frankie Neall’s wife out of commission so she can’t testify. Aboard the train is Jacqueline White as Ann Sinclair who Detective Brown fears will be mistaken for mobster’s widow.

The sarcastic Windsor and rough edged McGraw possess there usual grit and there’s a memorable scene where the corpulent actor Paul Maxey is blocking the train’s passageway he comments amiably that “Nobody loves a fat man except his grocer and his tailor.”

Det Sgt Gus Forbes: “What kind of a dish?”

Det Sgt Walter Brown: “Sixty-cent special. Cheap. Flashy. Strictly poison under the gravy.”

Walter Brown: “Sister, I’ve known some pretty hard cases in my time; you make ’em all look like putty. You’re not talking about a sack of gumdrops that’s gonna be smashed – you’re talking about a dame’s life! You may think it’s a funny idea for a woman with a kid to stop a bullet for you, only I’m not laughing!”

Mrs Neall: “Where do you get off, being so superior? Why shouldn’t I take advantage of her – I want to live! If you had to step on someone to get something you wanted real bad, would you think twice about it?”

Walter Brown: “Shut up!”

Mrs Neall:  “In a pig’s eye you would! You’re no different from me.”

Walter Brown: “Shut up!”

Mrs Neall: “Not till I tell you something, you cheap badge-pusher! When we started on this safari, you made it plenty clear I was just a job, and no joy in it, remember?”

Walter Brown: “Yeah, and it still goes, double!”

Mrs Neall: “Okay, keep it that way. I don’t care whether you dreamed up this gag or not; you’re going right along with it, so don’t go soft on me. And once you handed out a line about poor Forbes getting killed, ’cause it was his duty. Well, it’s your duty too! Even if this dame gets murdered.”

Walter Brown: “You make me sick to my stomach.”

Mrs Neall: “Well, use your own sink. And let me know when the target practice starts! “

This is your EverLovin’ Joey, just sayin’ in a noir world– if you play with matches you’re liable to get burned!

Hyper-Masculinity/Hidden Frailty: The Robert Ryan Aesthetic in Film Noir

In honor of the 40th anniversary of Robert Ryan’s death July 11, 1973 with a special nod to Karen & The Dark Pages for their spectacular tribute to this incredibly real man!

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“Ryan was unfailingly powerful, investing his tormented characters with a brooding intensity that suggests coiled depth. Cut off from the world by the strength of their ‘feelings’ his characters seem to be in the grip of torrential inner forces. They are true loners. Ryan’s work has none of the masked, stylized aura of much noir acting. He performs with emotional fullness that creates substantial, complex characters rather than icons.”Foster Hirsch-FILM NOIR: The Darker Side of the Screen

Clearly Robert Ryan’s infinite presence in film and his numerous complex characters manifest an embracing universal ‘internal conflict’ of masculinity. I tribute certain roles the actor inhabited during his striking career. Though he was cast more often in the part as the imposing heavy, the depth and breadth of Ryan’s skill with his rough-hewn good looks should have landed him more roles as a lead male capable of such penetrating levels of emotion. He had a depth that suggests a scarcely hidden intensity smoldering at the surface.

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Robert Ryan as Montgomery in Edward Dmytryk’s Crossfire 1947
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Robert Ryan in Act of Violence ’48

A critic for the New York Times reviewing Act of Violence (1948) wrote about Robert Ryan’s persona as the madly driven veteran bent on revenge, Joe Parkson calling him “infernally taut.”

Frank Krutnik discusses ‘Masculinity and it’s discontents’ in his book In A Lonely Street, “In order to make the representation of masculinity in the noir thriller, there follows a schematic run-through of Freudian work on the determination of masculine identity.” Claiming Freud’s work can be co-opted into film with an emphasis of it’s relevance to analysis of the cultural machinery of patriarchy.” He discusses patriarchal culture which relies heavily on the maintenance of a gender-structured ‘disequilibrium’ with it’s roots in the myth of the Oedipal Complex. Involving not only the power-based hierarchy of male service to masculine power but the established normative gender values which inform both the male and female figure.

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Act of Violence Robert Ryan as Joe Parkson co-starring Janet Leigh

Many of the characters in Ryan’s noir world are informed by a cultural ‘determinacy of the phallus’ that authorizes toughness and strips the limits of desire as an obligation to masculine identity. Patriarchal power structure predetermines a fixed and limited role that creates a destiny of submission and impotence in Ryan’s characters. But within the framework of these extreme male figures lies an intricate conflict of varying degrees of vulnerability and fragility.

Ryan manifests this duality within hyper-masculine characters. Outwardly physical, confrontational, and hostile, Ryan is a master at playing men who suffer from alienation and inferiority surrounding their own ‘maleness’ and self-worth. He was never just a dark noir brute or anti-hero but a complex man actualized through layers of powerful dramatic interpretation. His performances suggest a friction of subjugated masculinity bubbling within.

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Ryan as Earl Pfeiffer and Barbara Stanwyck in Fritz Lang’s Clash By Night

The trajectory of the male through the Oedipus Complex encompasses the male subjectivity which is a principle issue in the noir ‘tough-thriller.’ The ‘existential thematic’ link to the Oedipus myth concerns questions of male desire and identity as they relate to the overarching law of existing patriarchal culture substituted for the original fearsome ‘divinity.’ This element is one of the driving psychological themes underlying in any good classic film noir.

In this post I put my focus primarily on Ryan’s characters within the framework of each film and while I discuss the relationship between him and the central players I do not go as in depth as I usually do discussing his co-stars or plot design.

I apply this thematic representation to much of the roles engendered in the films of Robert Ryans‘ that I’ve chosen to discuss here. A patriarchal power structure establishes the tragedy of man’s destiny, a fixed and limited role in the character’s own destiny as there is a predominant power that threatens them into submission and sheds light on their own impotence. So many of the noir characters in a Robert Ryan noir world are shaped by a cultural authority structured through ‘determinacy of the phallus’ that authorizes toughness in the male identity that strips away the limits of desire, as an obligation to ‘masculine identity.’

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Ryan’s stoic boxer Stoker in Robert Wise’s The Set Up

I’m focusing on particular Ryan’s roles within a noir context that depict archetypal hyper-masculine tropes and the problematic strife within those characters. Whether Ryan is playing the deeply flawed hero or the tormented noir misfit, his characters are afflicted with an inherent duality of virility and vulnerability, an inner turmoil, alienation, persecution and masochism. It’s a territorial burden that Robert Ryan so effortlessly explores.

These films show Ryan’s trajectory through forces of menacing restraint and poignant self-expression. Within a noir landscape, the schism of stark virility and tenuous masculinity exposes the complexity of alienation, masochism and frailty. Robert Ryan’s performances are a uniquely fierce and formidable power.

I’m discussing: The Woman On the Beach (1947) haunted & emasculated coastguardsman Lt. Scott Burnett, Caught (1949) neurotic millionaire Smith Ohlrig, The Set- Up (1949) noble over- the-hill boxer Bill ‘Stoker’ Thompson, Born To Be Bad (1950) misanthropic & masochistic novelist Nick Bradley, Clash by Night (1952) cynical misogynist projectionist Earl Pfeiffer, Beware, My Lovely (1952) morose psychotic vagrant handyman Howard Wilton,On Dangerous Ground (1952) unstable, alienated violent cop Jim Wilson, Odds Against Tomorrow (1959) racist persecuted ex-con Earle Slater.

Within the framework of these ‘extreme’ male figures lies an intricate conflict with varying degrees of vulnerability & fragility within the male psyche. The narratives don’t necessarily flesh out this conflict plainly, but Ryan’s performances certainly suggest and inform us about the friction of this subjugated theme bubbling to the surface as he manifests the duality within his hyper-masculine characters. Robert Ryan was a master at playing men who suffer from alienation and inferiority surrounding their own ‘maleness’ and self-worth.

Robert Ryan

Ryan is never just a dark noir ‘brute’ or anti-hero but moreover a complex male who is actualized through layers of powerful dramatic interpretation. A complexity of stark virility and ‘tenuous maleness’ as the narrative witnesses Ryan’s trajectory transforming him through various dynamic forces of menacing restraint and poignant self-expression. Outwardly physical, confrontational, hostile and ultimately masculine, and the schism that is inwardly emotional, alienated, self deprecating, masochistic and fragile within the film noir landscape. Robert Ryan’s performances still maintain a uniquely fierce and formidable aesthetic of the ‘suffering-marginalized man.’

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