The Blue Dahlia (PG.)
Directed by George Marshall. 1946.
Starring Alan Ladd, Veronica Lake, William Bendix, Howard Da Silva, Doris Dowling and Tom Powers. Black and white. 97 mins. Out on Blu-ray from Arrow Academy.
The Blue Dahlia is a film noir from the classic era of film noir, but that doesn't make it a classic film noir. In it baby faced tough guy Alan Ladd, a Haircut 100 Robert Mitchum, returns to LA from the war to find his wife (Dowling) is a lush holding wild parties in their home. Later that night she is murdered and Ladd, the chief suspect, has to try and avoid the police while trying to find the real murderer.
Raymond Chandler's script has great dialogue and atmosphere, everybody drinks like a fish and the sense of post war disillusionment is powerfully put across. The plot though relies heavily on coincidences and bumping intos, while the whole film seems a little bit estranged from its own narrative, resentful of having to waste good drinking and brawling time on dull old storytelling. Certainly nobody seems to be getting too worked up about things, except for Ladd's war buddy Bendix, who has come back from the war with a plate in his head and an aversion to anything he terms “monkey music.” I think the film's ennui is summed up by the presence of Veronica Lake as a femme fatale that men seem to be able to take or leave. Ms Lukewarm pops up here and there, gives a gentle push to the plot, and disappears again and you're never quite sure what exactly her involvement is, though it is nice to have her around.
The plotting is often abrupt and arbitrary (the reason behind this are explained in the extras) but the world of film noir is one that has retained its appeal – there's something very reassuring to audience about depictions of the world as inherently corrupt because it really let's us off the hook – and there's plenty to enjoy here. Ladd and Lake aren't Bogart and Bacall, but that gives them a kind of second-choice poignancy and the position of chump/ patsy/ fall guy rests convincingly on their shoulders. Alongside this title Arrow are also releasing the pair of them in 1942's The Glass Key.
It isn't the greatest of film noirs but it is a title that has resonated down the years. The year after the unsolved murder of Elizabeth Short in Los Angeles was given the nickname The Black Dahlia; the murder would also provide the title and inspiration for James Ellroy's 1987 breakthrough novel, where the Short case became conflated with the unsolved murder of his mother a decade later.
Extras.
A 30 minute radio version of the story featuring both Ladd and Lake.
A 30 minute feature called Small Boy, Tough Guy in which critic Frank Krutnik discusses the story behind the film and Alan Ladd's appeal. Though he uses terms like “highly meditative construction” and the “homo social universe of army life” and his delivery could fairly be described as dry, he has lots of fascinating things to say, both about the background to the film's making, including how the film's ending was changed by the navy, but also about how to read the film.
Krutnik also offers a commentary for a couple of scenes
Original theatrical trailer
Extensive gallery of vintage stills and promotional materials
Reversible sleeve featuring original and newly commissioned artwork by Tonci Zonjic
First pressing only: collector’s booklet featuring new writing on the film by Adrian Wootton.
Directed by George Marshall. 1946.
Starring Alan Ladd, Veronica Lake, William Bendix, Howard Da Silva, Doris Dowling and Tom Powers. Black and white. 97 mins. Out on Blu-ray from Arrow Academy.
The Blue Dahlia is a film noir from the classic era of film noir, but that doesn't make it a classic film noir. In it baby faced tough guy Alan Ladd, a Haircut 100 Robert Mitchum, returns to LA from the war to find his wife (Dowling) is a lush holding wild parties in their home. Later that night she is murdered and Ladd, the chief suspect, has to try and avoid the police while trying to find the real murderer.
Raymond Chandler's script has great dialogue and atmosphere, everybody drinks like a fish and the sense of post war disillusionment is powerfully put across. The plot though relies heavily on coincidences and bumping intos, while the whole film seems a little bit estranged from its own narrative, resentful of having to waste good drinking and brawling time on dull old storytelling. Certainly nobody seems to be getting too worked up about things, except for Ladd's war buddy Bendix, who has come back from the war with a plate in his head and an aversion to anything he terms “monkey music.” I think the film's ennui is summed up by the presence of Veronica Lake as a femme fatale that men seem to be able to take or leave. Ms Lukewarm pops up here and there, gives a gentle push to the plot, and disappears again and you're never quite sure what exactly her involvement is, though it is nice to have her around.
The plotting is often abrupt and arbitrary (the reason behind this are explained in the extras) but the world of film noir is one that has retained its appeal – there's something very reassuring to audience about depictions of the world as inherently corrupt because it really let's us off the hook – and there's plenty to enjoy here. Ladd and Lake aren't Bogart and Bacall, but that gives them a kind of second-choice poignancy and the position of chump/ patsy/ fall guy rests convincingly on their shoulders. Alongside this title Arrow are also releasing the pair of them in 1942's The Glass Key.
It isn't the greatest of film noirs but it is a title that has resonated down the years. The year after the unsolved murder of Elizabeth Short in Los Angeles was given the nickname The Black Dahlia; the murder would also provide the title and inspiration for James Ellroy's 1987 breakthrough novel, where the Short case became conflated with the unsolved murder of his mother a decade later.
Extras.
A 30 minute radio version of the story featuring both Ladd and Lake.
A 30 minute feature called Small Boy, Tough Guy in which critic Frank Krutnik discusses the story behind the film and Alan Ladd's appeal. Though he uses terms like “highly meditative construction” and the “homo social universe of army life” and his delivery could fairly be described as dry, he has lots of fascinating things to say, both about the background to the film's making, including how the film's ending was changed by the navy, but also about how to read the film.
Krutnik also offers a commentary for a couple of scenes
Original theatrical trailer
Extensive gallery of vintage stills and promotional materials
Reversible sleeve featuring original and newly commissioned artwork by Tonci Zonjic
First pressing only: collector’s booklet featuring new writing on the film by Adrian Wootton.
