It had been several years since I'd watched this one, which I don't exactly consider noir as much as it's a classic gangster crime drama. Warner Brothers started making these types of stories with great frequency in the early 1930s. By this point, twenty years later, they have crystallized the formula; invested money in better sets and lighting techniques; and rounded up the best director and cast on the studio payroll.
It might be argued that Crawford, at age 45, is a bit too old to play this role...particularly scenes at the beginning when she is a young married woman with a young son. But she's developed such a hardboiled style by this point and knows how to tilt her head at just the precise angles so the tears will cascade down her face the exact moment she is photographed from that side, it's like a masterclass in gritty yet melodramatic acting.
In some scenes, I felt the script was actually too easy for her, so to get enjoyment from it, she vamps it up almost as if she's spoofing rival Bette Davis's performance methods. Indeed, these were probably scripts leftover from when Davis had recently left the studio; so I don't think it's a stretch to say that Crawford is playing Davis playing the character in the script.
One thing that helps the film is having more 'innocent' costars alongside her. Kent Smith is perfect as the naive accountant who falls under her spell and saves her life at the end. David Brian, as a powerful mobster, is almost too altruistic despite the more villainous aspects of his storyline; even when he's "investing" in Crawford as his mistress and using her for his own purposes, there is sincerity on his part. And Steve Cochran as a rival mob boss who romances Crawford in the second half of the picture seems like putty in her hands. She's the real boss of these men.
One irony that doesn't escape me is that in a way the story is about people who leave poverty behind and create new lives for themselves. This involves a fair bit of name changing and impersonation, which is what most of these Hollywood movie stars did in real-life. Joan Crawford as a stage name is as synthetic as they come; she was born Lucille LeSueur (pronounced La Sir). David Brian was really Brian Davis; Steve Cochran's first name was Robert. These personalities on screen were invented from the raw materials of their backgrounds and revised considerably when necessary. If we factor in my theory of Crawford impersonating Davis in her role, then there is an extra layer of postmodernism and pastiche.
The best scene, which puts this film into Crawford's top five for me, is the scene near the end where David Brian's mob character shows up at Crawford's place with Smith and beats her, before Cochran arrives and shoots it out with him. This is where we get Crawford transferring on to the screen what she knows about abuse. It's so precisely choreographed the way she allows herself to be throw into a table, the way she uses her hands and arms to knock over the props on the desk at the right moments.
But at the same time she's taken her mind into the real horror of such moments, where women become punching bags. This is a gutsy performance, that despite all its prefabricated artifice still strikes an honest note.
It might be argued that Crawford, at age 45, is a bit too old to play this role...particularly scenes at the beginning when she is a young married woman with a young son. But she's developed such a hardboiled style by this point and knows how to tilt her head at just the precise angles so the tears will cascade down her face the exact moment she is photographed from that side, it's like a masterclass in gritty yet melodramatic acting.
In some scenes, I felt the script was actually too easy for her, so to get enjoyment from it, she vamps it up almost as if she's spoofing rival Bette Davis's performance methods. Indeed, these were probably scripts leftover from when Davis had recently left the studio; so I don't think it's a stretch to say that Crawford is playing Davis playing the character in the script.
One thing that helps the film is having more 'innocent' costars alongside her. Kent Smith is perfect as the naive accountant who falls under her spell and saves her life at the end. David Brian, as a powerful mobster, is almost too altruistic despite the more villainous aspects of his storyline; even when he's "investing" in Crawford as his mistress and using her for his own purposes, there is sincerity on his part. And Steve Cochran as a rival mob boss who romances Crawford in the second half of the picture seems like putty in her hands. She's the real boss of these men.
One irony that doesn't escape me is that in a way the story is about people who leave poverty behind and create new lives for themselves. This involves a fair bit of name changing and impersonation, which is what most of these Hollywood movie stars did in real-life. Joan Crawford as a stage name is as synthetic as they come; she was born Lucille LeSueur (pronounced La Sir). David Brian was really Brian Davis; Steve Cochran's first name was Robert. These personalities on screen were invented from the raw materials of their backgrounds and revised considerably when necessary. If we factor in my theory of Crawford impersonating Davis in her role, then there is an extra layer of postmodernism and pastiche.
The best scene, which puts this film into Crawford's top five for me, is the scene near the end where David Brian's mob character shows up at Crawford's place with Smith and beats her, before Cochran arrives and shoots it out with him. This is where we get Crawford transferring on to the screen what she knows about abuse. It's so precisely choreographed the way she allows herself to be throw into a table, the way she uses her hands and arms to knock over the props on the desk at the right moments.
But at the same time she's taken her mind into the real horror of such moments, where women become punching bags. This is a gutsy performance, that despite all its prefabricated artifice still strikes an honest note.