Reflections
on the nature of Film Noir
With
reference to Double Indemnity, The Maltese Falcon and Dirty Harry
Recently, I sought the
definition of the term “film noir” in Google and found the following in a post
from Oxford Languages, “a style of film marked by pessimism, fatalism and
menace”, while in Wikipedia the film noir article starts with “a cinematic term
used primarily to describe stylish Hollywood dramas, particularly those that
emphasise cynical attitudes and motivations”, and this article goes on to
outline a variety of problems in providing a definition with any degree of
precision.
After looking through a
few more attempts to characterise film noir, I couldn’t help but feel that
while the descriptions I read offered insight into the tone, atmosphere and
even the format or structure of films noirs, an element was missing – something
that offered insight into their purpose or their raison d’être.
In my mind, I have always
associated film noir, or at least what I regard as its most engaging and
reflective examples, with existentialism and its fundamental premise and
challenge that God and morality do not necessarily exist and therefore we are
free, though that very freedom implies responsibility toward others when our
actions have an impact on their lives.
A classic film noir will,
in my opinion, contain elements of challenge to the traditional or accepted view
of morality or moral conduct, and will explore the consequences, in terms of
the effects of action on characters and on society, of such a challenge.
This will frequently
involve an amoral character attempting to advance his or her cause by involving
or influencing another who is apparently a normally upstanding citizen, but who
may be open to suggestion or corruption, while a figure of authority or
principle will also be present to remind us of social convention and to allow
the audience to draw a comparison.
Of course, not all films
noirs will follow the same pattern and many variations are possible.
Another fairly common means
of exploring the implications of existential freedom in society was to involve private
detectives, often presented as apparently morally neutral characters driven not
by ambition or greed, but by a desire to seek truth. They demonstrate an
understanding of human nature and the workings of the mind and they may err
from strict observation of laws and social niceties while dealing with both the
moral and the amoral in order to get by and make ends meet, allowing the
audience to gain insight into the machinations of a world seemingly without
natural order or justice.
A third possible solution
to the problem posed by existential freedom is to apply the maxim “treat others
as you would expect to be treated yourself”, potentially bringing characters
into conflict with society’s laws and raising the question of justice and
freedom within society.
To illustrate my points,
I will refer to three films.
The first is an example
of “pure” film noir in which we, the audience, gain insight into the workings
of the moral challenger’s mind and how she manipulates events and people to
advance her cause, and the effect she has on the lives of others. Her actions
may initially be presented in an almost positive or sympathetic light,
promoting our understanding and engagement, but this will ultimately contribute
to our outrage as we eventually become aware of the extent of her manipulation
and devious contrivance at the expense of others’ lives and freedom.
In “Double Indemnity”, Phyllis
Dietrichson is an amoral and calculating opportunist who inveigles her way into
a family, bringing manipulation and death for her own advantage. To help
advance her plans for physical and financial independence from her previously
widowed husband she involves insurance salesman Walter Neff, a relatively
ordinary fellow whose base desires and confidence leave him open to temptation
and emotional manipulation. Phyllis applies a combination of seduction and
emotional blackmail to gain Walter’s sympathy and co-operation to do away with
Mr Dietrichson – she even manages to manipulate him into proposing and planning
Dietrichson’s murder.
All this is laid out in a
vaguely reasonable and compassionate way and although we may not approve of the
action to be undertaken, Mr Dietrichson is presented as fairly unpleasant and Phyllis’s
plight appears genuine, so her plan appears almost defensible.
It is only after we
discover a few pertinent but carefully undisclosed facts that we realise that
we, just like Walter, have been misled and deceived by the devious and
singularly determined Phyllis.
However, Walter has
abandoned principle and morality in favour of sexual and emotional indulgence
with Phyllis. He has committed murder for her benefit and indirectly for his own
and as a result he enters the world of amorality in which, with no foundations
of truth or honesty, he loses all trust and gains paranoia.
Neff was a sort of
everyman out for himself but operating within certain limits. However, his
involvement with the deceitful and conniving Phyllis has plunged him into a
dark, murky world without clarity, dependability or boundaries.
In the aftermath of the
murder, he comes to understand there are consequences for others of his
obsessive feelings and self-centred actions, and lies and deceit beget ever
more mind-bending deceptions and duplicity. When he realises the chain of
events he initiated for selfish reasons is spiralling ever further out of his
control and he may even become Phyllis’s next victim, he comes clean to his
straight-as-they-come colleague, Barton Keyes.
Keyes clearly represents traditional
legal and perhaps moral standards, though it is interesting to note that he is
an insurance claim investigator and not an officer of the law, and so his primary
concern is not so much morality in itself but the saving of money for his
employer. Perhaps even traditional morality is not quite as straightforward as
it might appear…
The perfect embodiment of
an apparently neutral but curious private detective, willing to deal with the
moral and the amoral while investigating and clarifying a situation, is one of
the most admired and influential - Sam Spade in “The Maltese Falcon”.
Sam Spade is a survivor
who keeps his head above water in a sea of amoral goings-on. To make ends meet,
he digs into other people’s problems and situations (as his highly appropriate
surname suggests) without real involvement or personal responsibility, to
reveal truth or unravel a twisted tale. He is good at his work because he is intelligent
and curious.
Once again, we witness
attempted manipulation and distortion of facts by several characters through
repeated and varied lies and deceit, all in an attempt to advance their cause
at the expense of others and at the expense of truth, principle and honesty.
Indeed, at one point Brigid, Spade’s client, even states she can no longer tell
truth from fiction.
Morality and principle do
not exist and most of the characters on display are simply out for themselves
as they pursue easy wealth and fortune rather than pursuing worthwhile lives.
Their greed and obsession have blinded them to moral and social values to the
extent that Spade’s partner, Archer, is killed merely as a ploy in the game to
find the invaluable Maltese Falcon.
Sam Spade, however, plays
these people at their own game as he applies his wily intelligence to
manipulate people and events in an effort to uncover the truth. Not just, as we
are led to believe, to find the Falcon and earn a share of its worth, but to
discover the identity of his partner’s killer.
Spade is no saint – he
has had a casual affair with his partner’s wife, among other things - but he is
no great sinner either as he discovers loyalty, depth and principles he may not
have realised he had in him but which niggle away at him in the background. He
has played the game of social interaction and investigation while maintaining a
certain personal detachment and has become disillusioned with his clients’
humanity and society’s values, but when he is put to the test, a deep-seated
code of conduct is triggered by the death of his partner. He tries to be glib
and hide his emotions by seemingly being unfeeling and pitching in with these
pursuers of fortune, or referring to how he is supposed or expected to react to
the loss of his partner, but he invests himself fully in the investigation and
goes through a lot, including quite a beating, all in the name of justice for
his partner.
Events may have brought
out the best in him, but on the way, he has fallen in love with the guilty Brigid,
and apparently, she with him. However, Sam has learned not to concede to
emotion and desire – that is a route to potential existential disaster. He
recognises that indulgence of his feelings for Brigid would leave him open to
distrust, blackmail and corruption and that she, and she alone, must take
responsibility for her action in killing Archer while he must maintain his
freedom to continue his life as he sees fit by denouncing Brigid to the
authorities. He accepts this will cause him great pain, given his genuine
feelings for her, but he consoles himself with the existential reasoning that his
pain will pass with the passage of time.
In the end, it transpires
that the Falcon they have managed to acquire is a fake and so, still consumed
by greed and obsession, Gutman and Cairo set off to repeat the cycle of
criminality in pursuit of ill-gotten gains, perhaps suggesting mankind will
forever indulge in this type of conduct and we must all be wary in our dealings
with people and careful in our choice of the code by which we live.
In “Dirty Harry”, society
is presented as drifting toward decay due, in part, to what may seem like
indulgence of freedom and a sense of entitlement, and avoidance of
responsibility toward ourselves and one another.
In practical terms, law
and order also seems to be failing as the legal and enforcement agencies seem
riddled with careerism and focus seems to be set on technicalities and
precision of wording rather than the spirit and purpose of the law.
It is within this general
context of laissez-faire that we are introduced to the film’s antagonist,
Scorpio. We are given scant information on his background and motivation and
are therefore encouraged to judge him by his actions which indicate he is a
self-indulgent killer of random victims who shows no pity or remorse.
Investigating officer
Inspector Harry Callahan appears to be something of an anachronism. He is held
in some disregard by his superiors as they accuse him of frequently failing to
apply politically correct departmental policies when dealing with cases. He is
virtually accused of behaving like a vigilante, but it is essential to note he
does not mete out his own brand of justice – he works within the law but he
treats suspects as they treat others and he will shoot, but only if he is under
threat. He appears to embody the maxim, “treat others as you would like to be
treated”, a philosophy Clint Eastwood explored further in “High Plains
Drifter”.
“Dirty Harry” is often
referred to as an example of neo-noir, that is to say it shows characteristics
of a classic film noir but updated to modern times. However, it strikes me
there is a substantial difference, indeed I would say the moral conundrum is
almost reversed.
In “Dirty Harry”, society
is being challenged, but from within – clear moral direction is missing,
perhaps even leading to the evolution of antagonists such as Scorpio, and Harry
Callahan, far from being a figure of reactionary evil, is presented as a
principled and practical saviour willing to use the antagonists’ own methods
against them in order to defend society.
It is interesting to note
that at the end of the film Harry throws away his official badge of office,
perhaps rejecting a perceived weak or ineffective system of justice, but
perhaps also suggesting principled action in the face of moral adversity is a
matter of personal choice…
My thanks for taking the
time to read this article. I hope you found it of some value.
Stuart Fernie (stuartfernie@yahoo.co.uk)
