Classic Film Review: Desire Me

Desire Me (1947)
Directed by: No director's credit
Starring: Greer Garson, Richard Hart and Robert Mitchum

It's pretty safe to say that, well before the end of production on Desire Me, no one wanted to have anything to do with this oft-overlooked picture.

The specialty channel TCM aired the film last week, with host Robert Osborne detailing the multiple cast changes, script rewrites and revolving door of high-profile directors that all culminated in the film's ultimate plummet at the box office. Few remember the film today. This is not the picture that Greer Garson or Robert Mitchum are remembered for, thankfully.

In fact, the most intriguing thing about Desire Me is the fact that it was the first MGM film to be released without a director's name attached. Jack Conway, George Cukor, Mervyn LeRoy and Victor Saville all took a stab at helming the project, but ultimately left for a myriad of reasons -- namely the lack of artistic freedom and Garson's allegedly difficult personality on set.

It was LeRoy who finished the picture in the end, however, none of the directors wanted their names attached to the film so the studio went ahead and released it without crediting anyone.

Desire Me begins with an isolated house set upon the cliffs in Brittany. With a setting more suited to a film adaptation of Wuthering Heights, we discover that it belongs to Marise Aubert (Garson), a woman who is led to believe that her husband, Paul (Mitchum), has died in the field during the Second World War. When a man appears by the name of Jean Renaud (Richard Hart) he claims that he was her husband's closest companion during the war and that he witnessed Paul's death. Marise finds herself drawn to this personable stranger and sets out to lead a life with him as though he were a replacement for her dead husband. Marise and Jean's friendship is frowned upon by the gossipy villagers -- how could two unmarried strangers live together under one roof? As we learn via flashback, Jean is more than content with this living situation, having fallen in love with Marise based on a photo of her and Paul's stories about his loving wife.

As Jean himself claims in one particularly eerie moment: "I wanted to know what it was like to come home to my own house. My own wife."

Garson and Mitchum

While the audience has their guard up and can sense the emotional instability of Jean, he gradually crosses the line from lonely to creepy, with Marise a little slow on the uptake.

The acting, disappointingly, isn't particularly note-worthy. We've all seen Garson and Mitchum in far more engrossing and challenging roles. Granted, both are gifted actors and make due with what little is given to them in the script -- but it just isn't enough to truly rise above the material. Buried deep beneath this half-wartime love story, half-psychological thriller, Desire Me has a better movie waiting to come out.

The cinematography from Joseph Ruttenberg is gorgeous, lending the film a foreboding sense of danger through his keen eye. His visuals, combined with a lack of soundtrack in the climactic finale, briefly helps Desire Me rise above its scattered script. Eyes meeting through the mist, voices echoing along the cliffs, gunshots ringing out in the night, Ruttenberg's work is stunning. His cinematography allows for a sense of consistency in a film that is a narrative mess.

Desire Me is one of those forgotten classic films that you catch on TV late one night and are reminded as to why it has been forgotten in the first place. While there are stylistic elements that are certainly impressive, Desire Me will ultimately leave you cold.

FINAL GRADE: C+

Film Noir Series: Crossfire (1947)

I'm continuing my ongoing Film Noir series on Next Projection. You can check out my post HERE. The fourth film on my list is Crossfire (1947).

With its tightly coiled narrative and top-notch cast, Crossfire is a slow-burning crime drama and unlikely “social message film” with a noir twist.

Based on the controversial Richard Brooks novel The Brick Foxhole, screenwriter John Paxton re-teamed with director Edward Dymtryk after the success of their 1944 noir classic, Murder, My Sweet. This time around religious bigotry takes centre stage, as intolerance is unearthed among a group of soldiers recently returned from the Second World War.

Set in Washington, D.C., this band of brothers bond over hard liquor and poker games at various bars while swapping war stories. After one particular night of heavy drinking, three of the men wind up at the apartment of Joseph Samuels (Sam Levene), a Jewish man they met in a bar. Samuels openly shares his thoughts on what he perceives to be the true hidden enemy to a soldier recently returned from battle – pent up and unfocused negative energy that comes when there is no longer a clear enemy to kill. When Samuels winds up dead, the three soldiers become prime suspects in the homicide investigation led by Detective Finlay (Robert Young) and Army Sergeant Keeley (Robert Mitchum).

Postwar angst is often an underlying theme in the majority of noir films. However, few have dealt with it as directly as the Oscar-nominated Crossfire. Its chock full of aimless soldiers suffering from misguided anger. Despite Dymtryk and Paxton’s decision to change the victim from a homosexual in Brooks’ novel to a middle-aged Jewish man in the film, the theme of intolerance still resonates.

Gloria Grahame as Ginny.

Crossfire opens with a violent exchange between two men – one the gracious Samuels, the other one of the soldiers. However, all that is seen are shadows on a wall. Enter Detective Finlay with his soft drawl, ever-present pipe and immaculate suit. Finlay, in his hunt for a motive, is one of the calmest screen incarnations of a homicide detective to ever grace the silver screen. Whether he’s lounging in a high-backed chair or slowly walking the perimeter a crime scene, Young instills Finlay with an ice-cold demeanor, all the better to interrogate with.

Along for the ride in this compelling ‘whodunit’ is a brash soldier named Montgomery (Robert Ryan) and a sultry, exotically beautiful nightclub singer named Ginny (Gloria Grahame). Ryan is captivating as the blustering bully Montgomery, nearly stealing the show from both Young and Mitchum. As the jaded Ginny, Grahame more than earns her Best Supporting Actress nomination in her two brief scenes. Strong-willed and fiery, Ginny is the standard femme – albeit with much less fatale than is common in the genre. You can tell that, beneath her cool indifference, she’s a kind woman at heart.

The uncharacteristically slow narrative carefully unfurls character motivations, wading through each character’s conflicting flashback accounts in order to crack the case. When the truth is finally revealed to Finlay it sets off a three-minute speech addressing anti-Semitism and anti-Irish Catholic stances in America. The scene hammers home the overall message, coming off a little too preachy, almost as though it thought the audience wouldn’t be able to comprehend the notion of religious intolerance without its being sermonized. The one thing that pulls this scene back from outright melodrama is Young’s strong performance.

Despite this heavy-handed conclusion and its eventual exoneration of the military’s role in the murder,Crossfire is a surprisingly bold noir, tackling an issue that touched a raw nerve with audiences.

FINAL GRADE: A-

Film Noir Series: Out of the Past (1947)

I'm continuing my ongoing Film Noir series for Next Projection. You can check out my post HERE. The third film on my list is Out of the Past (1947).

Like its sleepy-eyed antihero, Out of the Past is disorderly and complex – a thrillingly chaotic example of a multiple-narrative film noir.

Former private investigator Jeff Bailey (Robert Mitchum) is leading a quiet life in a small town in rural California where he owns a gas station. However, Jeff harbours a secret – one that is gradually revealed when his past reaches out to tap him on the shoulder one day. Back in another life in New York, he was known as Jeff Markham, hired by Whit Sterling (Kirk Douglas), a gangster willing to pay whatever is necessary to get his double-crossing girlfriend back. Kathie (Jane Greer), the girlfriend in question, left Whit’s body riddled with four bullets before taking off with his $40,000. Whit wants her back, but not for revenge. As he tells Jeff: “I just want her back. When you see her you’ll understand better.” The beautiful, doe-eyed Kathie is a maneater – shooting and conniving her way out of tough situations. The ultimate femme fatale, she would appear to have both Jeff and Whit wrapped around her finger.

Jeff’s story is told in a flashback narrative as he reveals his past to his new girlfriend Ann (Virginia Huston) on a long trip to Lake Tahoe. He tells Ann everything: How he tracked Kathie down for Whit, followed the trail to Mexico and instantly fell in love with her. Jeff goes even further; telling Ann he lied to Whit about finding Kathie so the two could run away together.  When Jeff and Kathie are spotted in San Francisco by Jeff’s former partner Jack Fisher (Steve Brodie) Kathie shoots him dead – leaving Jeff with the corpse and Kathie’s bank book showing that she had, indeed, stolen the $40,000 from Whit.

All of this takes place in the opening 40 minutes. The rest of the film is set in the present and includes two other storylines which all culminate in a violent finale. Screenwriter Daniel Mainwaring (the blacklisted novelist writing under the pseudonym “Geoffrey Homes”) wrote the script to his own 1946 novel, Build My Gallows High. The pulpy dialogue is rife with quotable one-liners (“If anyone’s gonna die, baby, I’m gonna die last”). Despite its melodrama and convoluted plot, Out of the Past is still thrillingly paced and pays close attention to the rising tension between Jeff, Whit and Kathie.

Half of the action takes place in lush, outdoor locations instead of stuffy soundstage sets, lending the film an atmosphere of authenticity rarely felt in the noir genre. Director Jacques Tourneur and cinematographer Nicholas Musuraca used rural locations, untouched by human corruption, to visually contrast the two lives of Jeff Bailey. The scenic landscape is as calm and beautiful as Jeff’s life is chaotic and violent.

As Jeff Bailey, Mitchum makes for an intriguing noir antihero. Constantly surrounded by a bright white ring of cigarette smoke and easily seduced by Kathie (does this make him a hopeless romantic or a deluded chump?) Jeff ultimately comes to terms with his fate – resigned to the fact that the majority of his choices in life have been poor. Mitchum’s slow, deliberate speech pattern and heavy-lidded eyes give Jeff the world-weary appearance of a man who has seen it all – the eternal cynic.

Out of the Past is essential viewing for any cineaste. Like Murder, My Sweet (1944) before it, the film is a measuring stick with which to gauge the success of every noir before and after its release.

FINAL GRADE: A-