Double Indemnity

We may not want to admit it, but I think a lot of people have conflicting feelings about the classics.  For people who love movies, there can be pressure to like the "great ones."  And if we don't like the classics, then we always feel the need to apologize for it.  Or we always fall back on the line, "I respect it, but I don't enjoy it."  I am certainly guilty of doing that.

First of all, we need to stop doing that.  If we don't like a movie, there should be no shame in it.  Even if it is one of the GREATS.  Dr. Zhivago is just okay.  It's pretty, but also pretty long.  And pretty boring for long stretches.  There.  I said it.  And I don't care how influential the Marx Brothers were.  I don't laugh at any of their jokes.  You can still respect these movies, and it is important to recognize their place in cinema history.  But we need to stop apologizing about what we like and don't like.

But all that said, sometimes classics are classics for a reason.  Maybe we just didn't get it when we first watched the movie.  Maybe our expectations were too high.  Maybe we just needed to be older to truly appreciate it.

Directed by the late, great Billy Wilder, Double Indemnity is considered one of the great film noirs.  It was a big hit when it was first released and netted seven Oscar nominations, including Best Picture.  It is a hugely influential film, particularly its cinematography which established chiaroscuro lighting as the visual standard for the film noir genre even up to today.  This is a big movie, folks, and I just didn't like it.  I apologized for it, but I just thought it wasn't that good.

Double Indemnity is the story of Walter Neff (Fred MacMurray), a cocky insurance salesman who partners with femme fatale Phyllis Dietrichson (Barbara Stanwyck) to murder her husband as part of an insurance scheme.  I thought that Fred MacMurray was a big dope and I couldn't take him seriously as a cocky and sexy salesman.  Barbara Stanwyck's wig, with its curled bangs, was wildly distracting.  The story was just okay, and I thought the climax was kind of cheesy.  I did like the insurance investigator Barton Keyes, played by Edward G. Robinson, but that was really about it.

I was recently expressing my disappointment in the film to a friend who disagreed with me and then asked when I last saw Double Indemnity.  College was the answer.  Well, the next time he came over to the house, he brought the bluray with him and demanded I give it another chance.

And wow, I am glad I did.  Because I was dead wrong.  Double Indemnity is actually amazing, and I felt pretty stupid.  Especially because the qualities that bothered me the most were actually some of the film's greatest strengths.  I like to think that I was a seasoned movie watcher when I was in college, but I guess the last two decades have taught me a few things.  I'm embarrassed to say that parts of Double Indemnity just went over my head when I was younger.  I thought Walter Neff was an idiot.  Of course, he's an idiot.  If he wasn't an idiot, he never would have fallen for Phyllis' scheme.  Fred MacMurray was the type of actor who was more at home in romantic comedies and Disney films.  He doesn't fit in the film noir universe.  But that's why Double Indemnity works.  He doesn't belong, but really thinks he does.  He's a big ol' doofus whose brazen over confidence convinces him he's the smartest guy in the room, even though it is obvious that Phyllis is playing him like a fiddle from the very first second she enters the film.  If you cast one of the other actors who dominated film noirs in the 1940s - Alan Ladd, Robert Mitchum, Humphrey Bogart - then this movie doesn't work.  Because we know those guys would never have fallen for Phyllis' game.  Simply put, Double Indemnity needs Fred MacMurray or else the whole thing collapses.  That's a brilliant casting move by Billy Wilder.

And once I had that realization, everything else fell into place.  The over-the-top flirting dialogue that I rolled my eyes at twenty years ago actually works beautifully now.  Walter Neff's flirting is over-the-top and Phyllis knows it.  She's playing along to get what she wants.  And how about Phyllis' wig?  It's still a terrible wig, but it's a perfect representation of the superficiality that Phyllis brings to the table.  At the end of the day, she's just a big fake.

I'm glad I was convinced to watch this again. The acting is superb, the writing is witty, the direction and cinematography are top notch.  I love the pounding score by Miklos Rozca (a favorite composer of mine).  I still have a little problem with the climax of the film, but it doesn't bother me quite as much as it used to.  All in all, here is a movie that deserves to be called "a classic."

So how does this all tie back to my original statement?  It sounds sort of hypocritical.  Here I am, saying you should feel comfortable not liking classics, but then I spend the rest of the review implying how classics are classics for a reason and we should revisit them until we're convinced.  But both can be true.  Classic films should be revisited.  If they are important to film history, then it never hurts to re-evaluate them when you get older.  And maybe you will be surprised and find yourself loving it.  We should always keep an open mind.  Sometimes we might even like a movie less than we did when we were younger.  And that's okay, too.  I really do not like The Quiet Man.  Vertigo is wildly overrated.  I do not and will never like The Sound of Music.  And there's nothing wrong with that. There is NO reason to apologize.

But Double Indemnity?  That movie is pretty awesome, and I am grateful that I revisited it.

BEST LINE:

When a movie has an iconic exchange, it's probably the one that needs to go in this section.  This isn't a line of dialogue, but is the most famous conversation in the movie, and probably in film noir history.  And actually, this is the dialogue that I thought was so hammy when I first watched the movie.  Now, I see it for what it is - Walter's over-confidence and Phyllis playing along...she knows that playing hard to get while still verbally jousting Walter is just the sort of thing that will hook him...she's reeling him in like a fish.

Phyllis: Mr. Neff, why don't you drop by tomorrow evening about eight-thirty. He'll be in then.

Walter: Who?

Phyllis: My husband.  You were anxious to talk to him, weren't you?

Walter: Yeah, I was, but I'm sort of getting over the idea, if you know what I mean.

Phyllis: There's a speed limit in this state, Mr. Neff.  Forty-five miles an hour.

Walter: How fast was I going, officer?

Phyllis: I'd say around ninety. 

Walter: Suppose you get down off your motorcycle and give me a ticket.

Phyllis: Suppose I let you off with a warning this time.

Walter: Suppose it doesn't take.

Phyllis: Suppose I have to whack you over the knuckles.

Walter: Suppose I bust out crying and put my head on your shoulder.

Phyllis: Suppose you try putting it on my husband's shoulder.


TRIVIA:

The casting process for this film was an interesting one, especially considering all three leads didn't want to be in the movie at first!  Barbara Stanwyck was Billy Wilder's first choice as Phyllis Dietrichson.  Though she was initially hesitant to take the part, Wilder convinced by saying, "Are you an actress or a mouse?"  Wilder also wanted Edward G. Robinson from the beginning, but the actor was a leading man at the time wasn't sure about taking a supporting role, even if the part was memorable.  He finally accepted the role - I'm sure part of the reason was that he was being paid the same amount as his co stars while doing much less work!!  The main role of Walter Neff was a bit more tricky.  George Raft, Alan Ladd and Brian Donlevy were all approached and turned it down (though Raft said he would take the part if the movie was rewritten to make him an undercover FBI agent - Wilder said no thank you to that one!). Wilder really did want MacMurray, but he was known for playing nice guys and he didn't think audiences would buy him in the role. But Wilder persisted and eventually got his man.  And I'm glad about that.

MVP:

This is a tough one.  I know I should say producer/director Billy Wilder who really took film noir to a new level with this film, and popularizing the look that would shape the genre for decades to come.  I could also point to the writing team of Wilder and pulp novelist Raymond Chandler, who really did put together one heck of a script, even though they hated each other - or maybe because of it!  That might explain the mean steak in the writing!  I'm also tempted to say Miklos Rozsa, whose score is superb.  Or Stanwyck or MacMurray.  But no, at the end of the day, my MVP has to go to Edward G. Robinson.  He was my favorite thing about the film 20 years ago and he still is today.  His dogged insurance investigator is the best character in the movie - cynical and hilarious, but with a big heart.  The movie just crackles whenever he is on screen.

Ten Commandments

Ten Commandments

What is the first movie you remember? For my generation, it was probably something like Star Wars, Willy Wonka, or one of the Disney cartoons. Is it weird that the first movie I remember is Ten Commandments? This probably explains my love of epics from a very early age, and also my tendency to be, err, over-dramatic from time to time. But seriously, my earliest cinematic memories are of this film and its epic grandeur. But I had not seen the film in at least 15 years, so when the Blu Ray arrived, I was a bit worried. Even in my memory, I could look back and see how cheesy the movie was in some places, how ridiculous, and over-the-top. I was a bit worried about confirming all that when I re-watched the movie, and potentially ruining a childhood memory.

Having now watched it again, I can confirm that The Ten Commandments is indeed cheesy, ridiculous, and over-the-top. And yet, in spite of that - or maybe because of it - The Ten Commandments works. It is actually deserving of both its reputations, as one of cinema's greatest epics, and also has one of the greatest cheesy films ever. It is rare that the film succeeds at both so brilliantly.

For those who don't know the story: In Ancient Egypt, omens alert the priests that a prophet is coming who would someday free the Hebrew slaves of Goshen. Taking no chances, Pharoah orders all the Jewish newborns killed. One mother rescues her own son by setting him in a basket on the Nile, hoping he will float to safety. Fate brings his basket to the palace, where he is picked up by Pharoah's daughter (Nina Foch, Spartacus), who is conveniently infertile and decides to raise the baby as her own, naming him Moses. Moses (played as an adult by Charlton Heston from Ben Hur) is brought up as an Egyptian prince and even becomes a rival to Pharoah's son, Rameses (Yul Brynner, The King and I). He is certainly favored by the current Pharoah (Sir Cedric Hardwicke, Suspicion) and his ward Nefertiri (Anne Baxter, All About Eve), who likes to over-dramatically swoon whenever Moses' name is mentioned.

Of course, Moses discovers his true heritage and this leads him on his path to becoming the spokesman of God, leading him to confront the Egyptians for his people's freedom and acting as the conduit for all sorts of miracles, including the awe-inspiring parting of the Red Sea.

Named as one of AFI's Top Ten Epics, The Ten Commandments certainly lives up to the word. Everything about this movie is Big, with a capital B. The sets are expansive, the costumes glorious, the music score by Elmer Bernstein is massive, and there are over 10,000 extras in the film. Yeah, you read that right. 10,000! Like all epics, the running time is a bit on the long side, as well, but I think it is a testament to DeMille's direction that the film never really feels slow. He keeps things moving at a lively pace, especially in the first half.

When talking about what makes The Ten Commandments entertaining, you also can't underestimate the cheese factor. The cheese is just as epic as the rest of the movie. The most hilarious example for me is in the physical acting. DeMille instructed his actors to not act naturally, but to be very theatrical. And I am assuming he ordered them all to pose constantly. It is incredible to watch almost every line reading in the film accompanied by arms being crossed, an arching of the back, or a foot dramatically lifting onto a step. This would make a wonderful drinking game!

Even the piety is The Ten Commandments is cheesy. Most religious epics bog down when religion enters the picture - those scenes always become overly talky and deadly serious - perhaps because filmmakers were worried about upsetting parents. A good example of this is The Robe, which moves along at a good pace until Richard Burton sneaks into the woods and watches a church gathering that seems to go for seventeen hours. Then St. Peter joins the group and proceeds to give a speech that I think is about as long as the Bible itself. In contrast, the piety of The Ten Commandments is more of the over-the-top variety - when Moses parts the Red Sea, an old man yells, "God opens the sea with a blast of his nostrils!"

In fairness, not all the religious stuff is silly. Some of it is indeed serious, but DeMille keeps these moments focused, character-driven, and not overly preachy - which I think is a big reason why The Ten Commandments is still watched by everyone, while films like The Robe and Quo Vadis are only seen by fans of the genre. There is also a more subtle religious thread in the film - I got the impression that both Moses and Rameses are atheists in the beginning. There seems to be a bit of cynicism when faith is mentioned and a lot of lines include something like, "if there is a God." Most intriguing and ironic to me is that later in the film, it is the strength of Moses' newfound faith that eventually pushes Rameses to start believing in his own gods. That's interesting material, and deeper than I would have expected.

Not to say The Ten Commandments doesn't have its problems. Despite the fact that all the memorable scenes are in the second half of the film, I feel this is when the movie begins to break down, narratively. The first half is terrific, focusing on Moses' years as an Egyptian prince. As I mentioned before, the pace is smooth and moves along briskly, leading all the way to when Moses finds the Burning Bush. 

Then we have intermission. And then I'm not sure what happens. I think DeMille loses interest in showing a story. Instead, he fills in narrative gaps with badly written narration, that he delivers himself in flowery and over-the-top language. DeMille may be a fine director, but he should not be narrating. The bouncing around certainly hurts the all important confrontations between Moses and Pharaoh - Brynner and Heston exchange their lines with powerful gusto, but the plot at this point leaves me with so many questions that I am distracted from their awesome fury. There are some basic common sense questions: Why do the Egyptians keep letting this guy just waltz into the palace? Aren't there guards? After continuously embarrassing Pharaoh in front of his court and his son, don't you think they would stop letting him in? The most egregious example of this is when Pharaoh enters part of his palace to perform a religious rite and Moses is already in there, waiting for him, posing melodramatically. How the heck did he get there?!

The problem is there is no narrative flow. We just bounce from iconic moment to iconic moment to iconic moment. While these scenes in of themselves work really well, it kills the storyline. And having DeMille bridging the gap by saying, "and then Moses went up the mountain and the people freaked out and decided to build a golden calf" doesn't work. That's not drama. That's a Sunday School lecture.

What salvages the second half is the Epicness. The costumes, the cast of thousands, and especially the committed performances by a great cast all see us through the spotty storytelling and carry us triumphantly to the end.

All in all, The Ten Commandments may not be perfect, but my childhood memories are not damaged in the least. I now notice all the flaws in the film, but I also recognize what makes it great. I would recommend you revisit it. You will laugh because of the cheese, but you'll also be impressed by the sheer Epicness of it all. It is definitely one of the classics.

BEST LINE:

At some point, said by almost everyone in the film: "So let it be written. So let it be done."

MVP:

I know it should be DeMille or Heston, but I can't help it - Yul Brynner is my MVP. Even as a kid, I was amazed by the performance. He is a superb villain - cocky, powerful, devious. Most importantly, he never gets blown off the screen by Heston's righteous fury, which can be overwhelming. Rameses vs. Moses needs to be a confrontation of titans, two stubborn and powerful men who will not yield. That is where the drama comes from, and if Rameses had been any weaker, the film would not have worked.

There are also other reasons why Brynner gets the win. He does the best job of handling the hammy lines, for one thing. Every actor has at least one line that they can't save despite their best efforts (the best example being Baxter's "Moses, Moses, you stubborn, splendid, adorable fool!"). Since he needs to be petty and conniving, Brynner is saddled with a dozen of these lines and each one comes out believable and awesome. It's only later that you notice that, "hey, wait a minute, that doesn't sound right!" Combine that with the fact that Brynner also gets many of the movie's best lines, plus an excellent character arc that Brynner nails, and some of the movie's best costumes, and you have a clear MVP.

I know everyone points to The King and I or The Magnificent Seven as Brynner's best work, but they should revisit his role here - he really is one of epic cinema's awesome bad guys.

OSCARS: Best Special Effects

OSCAR NOMINATIONS: Best Picture, Best Art Direction, Best Cinematography, Best Costume Design, Best Editing, Best Sound Recording.

TRIVIA:

Oh, where to begin? This movie is full of interesting trivia. I think a cool one might be that Audrey Hepburn almost played Nefertiri, but some studio exec thought she was too skinny for the part. I think this actually worked out for the best. I love Hepburn, but I think she probably would have played the role straight and Nefertiri needs to have a little crazy hamminess to her - something Baxter had a lot of fun with. I suppose the other problem would be that if Moses had rejected a Nefertiri played by the luminous Hepburn, the audience would have never forgiven him - making Moses the bad guy in his own movie!!! That's my two cents...