Written and reviewed by Larry Gleeson during the annual TCM 31 Days of Oscar (2025)

Double Indemnity, possibly the definite film that firmly establishes the tenants of film noir with its dark visuals and dark narrative with an unflinching pitch-black worldview reminiscent of German Expressionism. Fred MacMurray (Walter Neff) a successful insurance salesman crosses path with femme fatale, Phyllis Dietrichson (Barbara Stanwyck). Neff isn’t a bad sort of a person. Unfortunately, he finds himself at the whims of Phyllis who wants her husband dead. Phyllis entices Neff with just a towel and a pair of gams. What unfolds is a blueprint for as close to a perfect film noir as there is.

Film noir typically uses a voice-over narration, flashbacks, low-key lighting, shadows that conceal emotion, rain-slicked pavements representing fragmented psyches all wrapped around a criminal act with a woman who leads an unsuspecting man down the prim rose path. Double Indemnity has all of this and more. Boasting an excellent cast headlined by Stanwyck, MacMurray, and Edward G. Robinson, and one of the most talented and enigmatic comedic writer/directors in cinematic history, Billy Wilder. Art direction was headed by two German Weimar cinema artists, Hans Drier and Hal Pereira, steeped in German Expressionism. Pioneering low-key lighting cinematographer, John F. Seitz joined in to create visual and thematic motifs from the very beginning of the film.

Every detail of the coldly expressed, mise-en-scen reveals Walter, driving on a rain slicked road in the dark of night. As he makes his way into his insurance office, the illusory visuals of Walter as imprisoned inside a prison yard with prisoners. As Walter begins his flashback via a Dictaphone, a representational handgun, his imprisonment is unabashedly confirmed. Most of Double Indemnity comes through from Walter’s voice-over narrated flashback. His ironic tone and viewpoint enable him to comment on his actions from an informed point of view. As Phyllis puts on a fresh set of clothes after dazzling Walter with just a towel from her open-air, second floor. The use of overhead lighting added an alluring aura. Walter’s desire is undeniable as he voices, “I wanted to see her again without that silly staircase between us.” As the double entendres fly, Walter has taken the bait, hook line and sinker.

Most interesting, is Wilder’s use of doubles, or the doubling effect linking crime and narrative, used widely by Alfred Hitchcock. In a suspenseful moment following Walter and Phyllis’s murder of Phyllis’s husband, Walter’s boss, Mr. Keyes (Robinson) has dropped by Walter’s apartment unexpectedly to inform Walter of doubts of an accidental death for Mr., Dietrichson . Walter listens fully aware Phyllis is on her way over. Phyllis hears Keyes inside Walter’s apartment before he walks out, she hides behind the door. Walter holds open the door chatting as Keyes starts to leave. This is the pivotal moment of truth for Walter. Whose side will Walter’s soul choose? Does he even have a choice? His unconscious, animalistic attraction to Phyllis dictates Walter’s doom and demise. Being under the Production Code, Phyllis needs to be punished. What will Walter do? Tune in and find out! Nominated for seven Oscars, Double Indemnity is highly recommended.

Reviewed by Larry Gleeson during the annual TCM 31 Days of Oscar.

The Maltese Falcon (1941), directed by John Houston, tells the story of hard-boiled detective, Sam Spade, hired for a missing person case. When his partner is murdered, the stakes are raised. What unfolds is a tale of Spade, his partner’s wife (Gladys George), a stunningly beautiful liar (Mary Astor), two police detectives, and three eccentric criminals. In what could consider an homage to Alfred Hitchcock, Huston uses a McGuffin. In addition, the film is shot by cinematographer, Arthur Edeson, with impeccable attention to detail. The film is based on a novel by Dashiell Hammett. What really makes The Maltese Falcon are the characters. All the actors seem to embody their respective characters with an attitude. In retrospect, American society was emerging from the Depression. Men are hardened and society is full of greed. And, as The Maltese Falcon shows, murder is not out of the question.

Interestingly, The Maltese Falcon was John Huston’s first shot at directing. The film allowed Huston the opportunity to continue making films for the next forty years with the same distinctive style. Bogart would take his performance as Sam Spade and reprise it several times over. The role also elevated Bogart to a starring leading man. Additionally, the film introduced Sydney Greenstreet, the Fat Man, Mr. Gutman. Greenstreet would go on top make several more films with Peter Lorre, including Casablanca starring Bogart and Lauren Bacall. The Maltese Falcon was nominated for three Oscars; Best Picture, Best Director, and Best Writing, Screenplay.

Some film historians argue The Maltese Falcon marks the arrival of film noir. There is a criminal element. The music creates suspense. The use of heavy shadows and low-key lighting define it further. Costuming (Orry Kelly) is befitting with the use of overcoats and fedoras. Undoubtedly,  the most telling characteristic is the mise-en-scen. Additionally, when the detectives visit Spade for the first-time, both detectives leave their coats and hats on. Edeson catches the sergeant in a terrific Rembrandt shot as they question Spade about the murder of his partner, Miles Archer (Jerome Cowan). Film noir was staring back into the camera lens.

Both Huston and Hammett are credited with writing the screenplay. The dialogue makes Spade a tough, cynical, and hard character. Much like the unforgettable line from Lauren Bacall’s character (“You know how to whistle, don’t you? You just put your lips together and blow,” in To Have and Have Not (1944), The Maltese Falcon delivers several. Most cinephiles go verbatim with Spade’s opening response to the beautiful liar, Brigid O’Shaunessy, pleading with Spade to help her:

“You won’t need much of anybody’s help. You’re good. You’re very good. It’s chiefly your eyes, I think, and that throb you get in your voice when you say things like ‘Be generous, Mr. Spade.”

Spade’s ending response is considered classic as well:

“Well, if you get a good break, you’ll be out [of prison] in twenty years and you can come back to me then. I hope they don’t hang you, precious, by that sweet neck. The chances are you’ll get off with life. If you’re a good girl, you’ll be out in twenty years. I’ll be waiting for you. If they hang you, I’ll always remember you.”

and, just before the elevator bars close across O’Shaunessy’s face, foreshadowing a long prison sentence, the police sergeant asks Spade what the falcon is “for.” Spade responds,

“It’s the stuff dreams are made of.”

A telling ending. Huston had been a writer at Warner Bros, before directing The Maltese Falcon. The studio wanted a happy ending. Huston argued against it. There is a lot to unpack in the one hour and forty-minute film. Yes, the characters are an eyeful. And the plot has more than a few twists. Pay attention, it’s worth it. Highly recommended.

Written and reviewed by Larry Gleeson during the annual TCM 31 Days of Oscar

I Am a Fugitive from a Chain Gang (1932), a Pre-code production from Warner Brothers’ Vitaphone, is based on the true story of Robert Elliot Burns, wrongly convicted of robbery and sentenced to ten years on a brutal and inhumane chain gang. The film received three Oscar nominations for Best Picture, Best Actor and Best Sound. Mervyn LeRoy directed with Paul Muni starring as the lead character, James Allen. Allen has returned home from The World War a changed man. Allen served with the Engineer Corps. and had other ideas than returning to his position at the Parker Shoe Manufacturing Co., Home of Kumfort Shoes. He desires to get away from routine of office work and Army life. Rather, he dreams of accomplishing things building and constructing bridges. When Mother (Louise Carter) Allen expresses concern, Allen’s minister brother (Hale Hamilton), interjects a lofty incantation of Allen getting a good night’s sleep, going to the factory, and Allen becoming a soldier of peace instead of a soldier of war. Allen reacts vehemently of being a soldier of any kind.

Nevertheless, Allen takes the advice and returns to his old position at the factory. As he is preparing to file bills of laden, explosions and jack hammers fill the air drawing his interest. A new bridge is being constructed. Allen hangs around the site returning late from lunch everyday disappointing Mr. Parker. Mother Allen encourages her son to pursue what is in his heart. Allen gleefully sets off for New England. He works in a quarry but is laid off quickly. From New England, Allen heads to New Orleans arriving a week late. All the positions are filled. This continues until Allen bounces into the St. Louis/East St. Louis area. Here, Allen meets up with a dubious character, Pete (Preston Foster), at a boarding house. Pete entices Allen to go out for hamburger. Unfortunately, Pete pulls a handgun and robs the hamburger joint and is killed by police in a shootout. As Allen tries to get away, the police nab him and find the robbery money in his pocket.

Allen gets sentenced to ten years in prison for being a part of the robbery.  The judge had no mercy, and Allen gets a hard labor sentence for trying to run away from the robbery scene. Allen is in the wrong place at the wrong time. What transpires next is the first visual, filmic insight into the sordid chain gang system depicting the harsh realities of the chain gang system, a brutal and inhumane manner of cutting costs predominantly in Georgia, Texas, and Florida. Inmates who have not put in a good day’s work are whipped with a razor’s belt. The worst part is the systematic binding with chains. The binding changes the gait of men who have challenges walking without the chains upon their releases.

Technically, the film very well put together achieving the suspension of disbelief with continuity editing.  In addition, the use of dissolves with frames of calendar pages, pay slips, and newspaper headlines establish settings, show the passage of time, and informs the audience. The mise-en-scen and cinematography work extremely well together, too, revealing mood and story line with depth and clarity. The actors are credible. Hair, makeup, and costuming match the characters on the chain gangs and in society. Muni, one of the top actors of his time and one of the biggest stars at Warner Brothers, embodies the character, James Allen, with strength and power, albeit with a gullibility that thwarts his life following his first escape. Truthfully, both escape scenes contain a plethora of highly engaging and visually appealing action shots with blood hounds, shotguns, rifles, speeding dump trucks, and explosives. Furthermore, the narrative moves along with veracity and contains moments of sharply witted dialogue.

I found the chain gang system incredulous as depicted in I Am a Fugitive from a Chain Gang. With a bastion of corruption from the state governors, through the prison board commissioners and down to the wardens, the film raises important issues about the penal system and the impact of incarceration on individuals and on society. Interestingly, the film’s exhibition created such an uproar that it prompted reforms within the prison system. I Am a Fugitive from a Chain Gang is an early example of socially conscious film making that worked. With a runtime of one hour and thirty-two minutes, I Am a Fugitive from a Chain Gang, is an exceptionally well-constructed film that engages and pokes the audience toward discernment. Highly recommended.

Reviewed by Larry Gleeson during the annual TCM 31 Days of Oscar

Bullitt (1968), directed by Peter Yates, is a star vehicle for actor Steve McQueen. McQueen’s Solar Productions produced the Warner Bros. film. Bullitt was shot on location in San Francisco and features the groundbreaking car chase that is considered one of the greatest car chases in film history. The chase scene is clocked at nine minutes and forty-two seconds. Both vehicles involved in the high-speed chase scene had reinforcements to handle the steep San Francisco hills. McQueen (Lt. Frank Bullitt) drove a 1968 Ford Mustang GT Fastback. The other vehicle was a Dodge Charger with a 460-horsepower engine. Speeds topping 100 miles per hour were recorded during the chase scene. Bullitt won the 1969 Best Editing Oscar for Frank P. Keller’s efforts.

Bullitt is a non-conforming Lieutenant in the San Francisco Police Department assigned, under request from U.S. Senator Walter Chalmers (Robert Vaughn) to guard Johnny Rossi, an infamous West Coast racketeer turned whistleblower.  In a mix-up, two men get access to the apartment where Rossi is holding up blasting a shotgun and wounding a police officer while mortally wounding Rossi. Bullitt has a hunch foul play is at work. What transpires is a game of cat and mouse involving police captains, detectives, doppelgangers, racketeers, and a United States Senator. Senator Chalmers demands Bullitt take responsibility for Rossi’s murder with a sworn statement. However, it’s a Sunday and the statement cannot be completed on a Sunday. This gives Bullitt the time he needs to bring to fruition his hunch.

As I was watching the infamous chase scene, I began noticing a few interesting anomalies with a green Volkswagen Beetle. In addition, the Dodge Charger lost three hubcaps. Yet, the vehicle had three hubcaps on before crashing and burning. Due to an accidental fire while filming, footage was destroyed. Editor Keller stitched scene footage from different cameras for coverage. Typically, the majority of films aim for a seamless edit through continuity editing. The chase scene is a prime example of discontinuity editing. Nevertheless, the chase scene generated significant buzz in the film-going world. Interestingly, the 1972 comedy, What Up Doc? parodies the scene including a few moments of discontinuity. But that’s for another time…

I couldn’t help but compare Bullitt’s sound design to James Mangold’s Ford v Ferrari, winner of the 2020 Oscar for Best Achievement in Sound Editing. Bullitt received a nomination in 1969 for Best Sound. The sounds of the 1968 Mustang GT Fastback roared impressively and to a lesser degree the sounds of screeching tires, and cars launching and landing on the hilly streets of San Francisco sounded quite realistic.  While McQueen did not receive a nomination it established him as a top box office draw. With a budget of $5.5 million, the film grossed over $42 million. Bullitt also established San Francisco as a premium film location outside of Los Angeles.

Lastly, the narrative of Bullitt has twists and turns. It’s complex and it requires attention to make sense of the ending. The payoff is definitely worth the price. The film is based on Robert L. Fish’s 1963 novel, Mute Witness, and features a strong cast, including a young Jacqueline Bisset (Cathy). One of the film’s more colorful scenes has Cathy escorting Bullitt to the location of a potential witness in a canary yellow, 1965 Porche Cabriolet convertible. With a compact and succinct runtime of one hour and fifty-one minutes, and for the original modern-day car chase – one of the greatest in cinematic history – Bullitt is a “must-see!”

Written and reviewed by Larry Gleeson

The Blackboard Jungle directed by Richard Brooks and based Evan Hunter’s novel of the same title, is a cautionary tale of when conservatism runs amok – think “wildings” and the crack epidemic in New York City during the 1980’s and early 1990’s. Brooks uses a school for his setting. Brooks shows the audience an unruly, and undisciplined students, refusing to follow basic classroom and assembly procedures, assaulting teachers, and wielding switch blades. The students make the rules, and the teachers go along out of fear and apathy.

Mr. Dadier (Glen Ford) is new to the school. He is a veteran of World War II and has beautiful and pregnant wife (Ann Francis) he is attempting to support and provide for. Dadier, quickly becomes known as Daddio. Despite his soft-spoken nature Dadier has moral fiber and is willing to go to any lengths to keep his classroom safe for those students who want to learn. A young Sidney Portier (Gregory J. Miller) is a refined, quiet student who has all the markings of a leader. Dadier sees this and continuously attempts to persuade Miller to use his leadership talents for the good of the class. Initially, Miller gets the students to answer all of Mr. Dadier’s questions erroneously. Through time and effort, Dadier wins over Miller and the rest of the class with the exception of two ne’er do wells portrayed exceptionally by Vic Morrow and Danny Dennis.

The film opens with white text overlay and a deep black background with the words,

“We, in the United States, are fortunate to have a school system that is a tribute to our communities and to our faith in American youth. Today we are concerned with juvenile delinquency — its causes — and its effect. We are especially concerned when this delinquency boils over into our schools. The scenes and incidents depicted here are fictional. However, we belie that public awareness is a first step toward a remedy for any problem. It is in this spirit that the BLACKBOARD JUNGLE was produced.”

Having recently viewed the 1995 French film, La Haine (Matthew Kassovitz) in the not-too-distant past, I saw a distinct similarity. Both films are shot in black and white showing the socially marginalized in gritty, documentary style. Both films use pop music and cultural props. Interestingly, Blackboard Jungle, is almost as well known for its soundtrack, as it is for its narrative. When I heard the non-diegetic, Bill Haley and His Comets’ “Rock Around the Clock,” after the scrolling public service announcement, I immediately sensed something was awry. Later, as Dadier goes to have a drink whit mathematics teacher, Joshua (Richard Kiley) Joshua is feeling the music of Stan Kenton and His Orchestra’s “Invention for Guitar and Trumpet,” The next day Joshua brings in his jazz collection to share his math class, beginning with Bix Beiderbecke and His Gang’s “The Jazz Me Blues.” Unfortunately, as well intentioned as Joshua is, he doesn’t have the moral fortitude of Dadier, and his class rebels in a destructive fashion.

Blackboard Jungle received four Oscar nominations including, Best Screenplay, Best Editing, Best Cinematography Black and White, and Best Art Direction, Black and White. Glen Ford carries Dadier with credibility. And, Portier has the mark of greatness tattooed all over him. Furthermore, I found Brooks’ use of music to convey a potent theme. After the scrolling PSA, the Rock ‘n Roll anthem of “Rock Around the Clock,” foreshadows society’s indifference to the plight of the underclass and the ramifications of social indifference. As the Trump Administration and its acolytes proclaim the Department of Education is a disaster and needs to be abolished, Blackboard Jungle is as relevant today as it was in 1955. With a runtime of one hour and forty-one minutes, Blackboard Jungle is very highly recommended.

Posted by Larry Gleeson

Abe Lincoln in Illinois, is a period piece, directed by John Cromwell, and tells the story of Abraham Lincoln’s early days, including the tragedy of his first love. This morning as I was watching the news, a film thought to be lost over 100 years ago was discovered cleaned, restored and digitized. The film was originally titled, The Heart of Lincoln (1915). The film was directed by and starred Francis Ford, the legendary, Hollywood director, John Ford’s older brother. John Ford directed the Henry Fonda led Young Mr. Lincoln (1939), a year before Cromwell’s film. Cromwell’s Abe Lincoln in Illinois was adapted from the Pulitzer Prize winning play of the same title by Robert Sherwood. The leading man from Broadway transitioned to film to reprise his role as Abe Lincoln (Raymond Massey).

The opening of the film was reminiscent of Daniel Boone as a lone man paddling a canoe in a wooded area covered by fog. Triumphant non-diegetic music sets the tone. As the introductory credits roll a male deer is seen on a ridge followed by a dissolve transition revealing wagon rolling through a gap into a clearing before crossing a small river. The non-diegetic music also transitions into a spiritual song. Eventually a series of log cabins enters the screen to establish a place and time. A text overlay reveals the year to be 1831.Rain is pouring down outside the cabins. The camera moves inside to a long-legged Abe by the fire reading book, while Abe’s father, Tom (Charles Middleton) is lamenting the weather and its impact on their survival. Soon, a pair of locals burst through the doors for Abe as they have been hired to take a raft of hogs down the river to New Orleans. Abe has a moment with his mother, Sarah (Elisabeth Risdon), who supported and encouraged Abe’s reading. From here, the reader is treated to the rafting adventure, Abe’s introduction to New Salem, Illinois, where he first sees Anne Rutledge (Mary Howard), through his years as a small shop owner, then into the law and politics in Springfield, Illinois.

Abe begins his political ascent and becomes known as a trustworthy and compassionate man. It’s his time in Springfield where Cromwell delves into Abe’s romantic life. True to his humble upbringing, the death of Anne Rutledge, and his awkward appearance, Abe was far from a ladies’ man. With some help from Mary Todd’s brother-in-law, Abe is matched with the ambitious Mary Todd (Ruth Gordon). The Todd’s were a well-respected and prominent family from Lexington, Kentucky, and Mary boasted that she was going to marry a man who would be President someday.  As Abe continued to rise in political stature, Mary Todd smoothed the path for Abe. Mary had several suitors including Stephen A. Douglas (Gene Lockhart). In 1858 seven debates between Lincoln and Douglas took place across the state of Illinois for an open U.S. Senate seat. His oratory style was not the lofty style of Stephen A. Douglas. Yet, Abe’s logical reasoning and impeccable timing won over crowds clamoring to hear him speak. While Abe lost, he gained national prominence that lead to his election as President in 1860.

For his role as Abe Lincoln Massey would receive an Oscar nomination. I found it difficult to not compare Massey and Daniel Day-Lewis’s performances. Both are cut from the same cloth. Cinematographer James Wong Howe’s use of deep focus, location-based photography, and chiaroscuro landed the second of his ten Oscar nominations. Surprisingly, neither Robert Sherwood nor Grover Jones (credited with adaptation) received nominations. I’m surprised because what emerges from the film, besides the exquisite mise-en-scen, is how powerful Abraham Lincoln’s words were. I have seen the 1939 Young Mr. Lincoln, as well as the 2012 Lincoln with Lewis and Sally Field as Mary Todd. Abe Lincoln from Illinois more than holds its own. Philosophically, it tops them. Highly recommended.

Reviewed by Larry Gleeson during the annual TCM 31 Days of Oscar

Alice Adams (1935), a dramatic romantic comedy, directed by George Stevens, was nominated for two Oscars, Best Picture, and Best Actress in a Leading Role for Katherine Hepburn’s work as Alice Adams. The film helped establish Stevens as a formidable director and stabilized Hepburn career after several box office flops. As Alice Adams, Hepburn is lively, animated, and delivers her lines with physicality and with credibility.

The film features several other solid performances. Fred Stone (Virgil Adams) has a self-deprecating manner along the lines of W.C. Fields – only Stone stays primarily within the dramatic. A twenty-seven-year-old, Fred MacMurray (Double Indemnity), plays a dashing young suitor, Arthur Russell. Hattie McDaniel (Melana), who would go on to become the first African American nominated and win an Oscar, provides a solid presence in the Adams household, especially when Arthur comes calling.

With Arthur in the house, and with the Adams family attempting to ensure the dinner is up to par for a social engagement, on what is a blistering evening, the subtle humor begins to ramp up. Mrs. Adams engaging in polite conversation as Virgil is finishing dressing. Alice is frantic moving from one worrying detail to the next. First sewing up her father’s formal dress shirt that doesn’t button up. Then, ensuring they use the stairs to make an entry into their own living room.

The dinner scene has some high moments of comedy where seemingly everything goes haywire. Without much of  a word, dinner has ended. Alice and Russell share a moment outside on the porch. Alice, beside herself, bids Russell farewell feeling the aftereffects of the dinner. Russell politely tells Alice it’s just a good night, not the end of their relationship.

Ann Shoemaker (Mrs. Adams) is a watchful mother, seeking a better life for Alice – usually in the form of pushing Virgil to do more to provide for Alice.  Alice wears nice-looking dresses from two years ago, an eternity in the fashion world, and picks flowers for a corsage from a municipal park. Alice never really complains. Instead, she users her imagination and her fluency in French to put forth an aura of sophistication and intelligence – she is both.

Eventually, Virgil moves forward in business. Mr. Lamb is a sharp, successful businessman and despite Mr. Lamb paying Virgil while he is recuperating, Virgil takes the glue formula he and another employee, now deceased, created while under the employ of Mr. Lamb. Virgil goes all in putting every penny into the glue works business venture. When a troubling situation arises involving Virgil’s son, Walter (Frank Albertson), Virgil is at wits end. Walter is a standup young man, and Virgil doesn’t want him to end up in the penitentiary.

Made in the fully enforced Production Code, Depression-era of 1935, Alice Adams, subtly deals with the economic shortfalls and the social issues prevalent in small-town America. The cinematography, by Robert De Grasse, delivers insight into the intricacies of relationship dynamics. The costuming and makeup reveal distinct social stature. But it’s the well-designed mise-en-scen that informs the most.

Primarily a character-driven narrative, based on Booth Tarkington’s Pulitzer Prize winning 1921 novel, Alice Adams, the film manages to wrest the sentiment of a young girl who desires to climb the social ladder. Stevens gets Hepburn to emanate the interior feelings of Alice as she competes with her cross-town rival, Mildred Palmer, a society girl who has her eyes on Arthur.  But when Lamb builds a glue factory in a large building across the street from Virgil’s glue works, the Adams family finds itself on the brink.

What transpires is heartwarming as the Adams family rallies around Walter’s trouble. Mr. Lamb and Virgil reconcile, and Alice finds love despite, or possibly due to, the idiosyncrasies of her imagination and curiosity-seeking behavior. With a runtime of one hour and thirty-nine minutes, Alice Adams is charming and delightful. Highly recommended.