Cinematic Cities: Paris Noir 2

Voici le temps des assassins... (1956)

Voici le temps des assassins… ( Deadlier Than the Male  – France 1956)
Director  Julien Duvivier   |   DP  Armand Thirard

Very young and twisted femme-fatale Danièle Delorme guided by her off-the-wall user mother very nearly destroys Jean Gabin as besotted Paris restauranter of a certain age. The denouement while not graphic is a bitch…

L.A. 1939: Ask the dust

Max Yavno (Los Angeles: Underneath Third Avenue El –  1938)

I am currently reading a very interesting book, Unless the Threat of Death Is Behind Them: Hard-Boiled Fiction and Film Noir (2006 The Johns Hopkins University Press) by John T. Irwin, which studies five novels and the films based on them – The Maltese Falcon, The Big Sleep, Double Indemnity, High Sierra, and Night Has a Thousand Eyes.  Irwin’s thesis seems to be that noir is concerned with death metaphysically as life-in-being and death also in an existential sense bred of social alienation.  The following excerpts for me express the kind of prose Irwin is concerned with, and are passages from my own reading that have particularly struck me as being relevant.

“I went up to my room, up the dusty stairs of Bunker Hill, past the soot-covered frame buildings along that dark street, sand and oil and grease choking the futile palm trees standing like dying prisoners, chained to a little plot of ground with black pavement hiding their feet. Dust and old buildings and old people sitting at windows, old people tottering out of doors, old people moving painfully along the dark street. The old folk from Indiana and Iowa and Illinois, from Boston and Kansas City and Des Moines, they sold their homes and their stores, and they came here by train and by automobile to the land of sunshine, to die in the sun, with just enough money to live until the sun killed them, tore themselves out by the roots in their last days, deserted the smug prosperity of Kansas City and Chicago and Peoria to find a place in the sun. And when they got here they found that other and greater thieves had already taken possession, that even the sun belonged to the others; Smith and Jones and Parker, druggist, banker, baker, dust of Chicago and Cincinnati and Cleveland on their shoes, doomed to die in the sun, a few dollars in the bank, enough to subscribe to the Los Angeles Times, enough to keep alive the illusion that this was paradise, that their little papier-mache homes were castles. The uprooted ones, the empty sad folks, the old and the young folks, the folks from back home. These were my countrymen, these were the new Californians. With their bright polo shirts and sunglasses, they were in paradise, they belonged. But down on Main Street, down on Towne and San Pedro, and for a mile on lower Fifth Street were the tens of thousands of others; they couldn’t afford sunglasses or a four-bit polo shirt and they hid in the alleys by day and slunk off to flop houses by night. A cop won’t pick you up for vagrancy in Los Angeles if you wear a fancy polo shirt and a pair of sunglasses. But if there is dust on your shoes and that sweater you wear is thick like the sweaters they wear in the snow countries, he’ll grab you. So get yourselves a polo shirt boys, and a pair of sunglasses, and white shoes, if you can. Be collegiate. It’ll get you anyway. After a while, after big doses of the Times and the Examiner, you too will whoop it up for the sunny south. You’ll eat hamburgers year after year and live in dusty, vermin-infested apartments and hotels, but every morning you’ll see the mighty sun, the eternal blue of the sky, and the streets will be full of sleek women you never will possess, and the hot semi-tropical nights will reek of romance, you’ll never have, but you’ll still be in paradise, boys, in the land of sunshine.”

– John Fante, Ask the Dust (1939)

“No feelings at all was exactly right. I was as hollow and empty as the spaces between the stars. . . . Out there in the night of a thousand crimes people were dying, being maimed, cut by flying glass, crushed against steering wheels or under heavy tires. People were being beaten, robbed, strangled, raped, and murdered. People were hungry, sick; bored, desperate with loneliness or remorse or fear, angry, cruel, feverish, shaken by sobs. A city no worse than others, a city rich and vigorous and full of pride, a city lost and beaten and full of emptiness. It all depends on where you sit and what your own private score is. I didn’t have one. I didn’t care.”

– Raymond Chandler, The Big Sleep (1939)

Cinematic Cities: Buenos Aires Beat

Of Missing Persons (1956)

Of Missing Persons (Sección desaparecidos (1956) France/Argentina)
Director  Pierre Chenal  | DP   Américo Hoss

Lurid adaptation of  1950 pulp novel by David Goodis.  The violent death of a wealthy un-hinged woman implicates her husband,  who is in hiding after faking his own suicide so that he can be with his exotic-dancer girl-friend.  Appalling yet mesmerizing melodrama. The dancer is one hot babe.

Cinematic Cities: The Shanghai Night

The Goddess (1934)

The Goddess (Shen nu – China 1934)
Director Yonggang Wu | DP Hong Weilie

One of the masterpieces of the silent cinema starring the legendary Chinese actress Ruan Lingyu,  is a fatalistic story of entrapment and futility, which presages French poetic realism. The film is a profound and mesmerising critique of greed and bourgeois hypocrisy, set against the tender counterpoint of the bond between mother and child.  The streets of Shanghai are a glittering purgatory. The fallen woman walks the dark streets of oppression and shame. Trapped and struggling, loving and kind, a prostitute and an angel, she soars with wings of  joy for a brief instant above the sordid infamy of vanity, exploitation, and deprivation. A woman’s anguished bid for freedom is a revolutionary act.  The whore and the mother the existential  heroine made flesh.

Cinematic Cities: Okinawa Noir

Stray Dog - Kurosawa - 1949

Stray Dog (aka Nora inu) 1949
Director Akira Kurosawa | DP Asakazu Nakai

Akira Kurosawa’s 10th film directly inspired by Jules Dassin’s The Naked City (1948), explores the nether world of post-WW2 Japan in a story that parallels the American noir theme of the returning soldier’s re-integration into civilian society. The different responses of two men to a chance event underlie the story of pursuit tempered by empathy, and the realisation that the pursuer could as easily have been the pursued. Full Review.