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.