There are many ideas out there on what constitutes a great film. Many would say a great film—in other words, art—is not necessarily an entertainment piece, but a movie which makes comments about life and pushes the audience to do some thinking even when the screening has ended. Personally, I've never stood with the idea that all great films are merely absorbing and never entertaining. That silly idea that films are intellectual stimulants and movies are just trash pumped up in a way that comes across as giddy. Although I do agree that many great films probe the audience to think, one of my solutions is this: when I finish the screening, I sit there afterward and tell myself that there was nothing else I would have rather done in those two hours. That sensation swelled me when I finished watching "Double Indemnity" for the first time about a year ago, and it has returned with me every time I have seen it since.
This marvelous film-noir, directed by Billy Wilder, shoves a dagger into the idea that art cannot be entertaining, only observable. Now "Double Indemnity" does not make its central plot—a salesman co-opting with an unhappy housewife to murder her husband for a $100,000 insurance clause—into something exciting—something people might want to try out at home. In fact, as the movie progresses toward its third act and the two murderers start to lose their grip on what's happening, it poignantly resolves the seemingly tired idea that crime doesn't pay. But there is a certain level of joy to be had from this film. Most of it comes from the brilliant performance of Edward G. Robinson as a comically brilliant claims manager on to the big scheme, and the rest of it comes from the way director Billy Wilder brings tremendous energy out of a leisurely paced story.
As much as I've enjoyed his lighthearted performances, I had always felt that Fred MacMurray was capable of putting darker edges on himself. "Double Indemnity" does not give him the coldblooded meanness I always felt he could play effectively, but it brings him somewhat close to that level. A man who is more clever and intelligent than he appears (not just a dumb salesman, although he does allow femme fatale Barbara Stanwyck to manipulate him), not afraid to undergo any task he puts before himself. But what is also brilliant about MacMurray's performance is the way he gets us the care. That is tricky. The character is a murderer; he planned it out; he arranged it. The movie does not condone his crime, even though his victim is hardly the world's nicest guy. And yet the audience follows MacMurray's story with a certain affection for him, and by the end, much to our shock, we actually sort of wish that he might be allowed to dodge the authorities. Or at least escape the gas chamber. The screenplay by Billy Wilder and novelist Raymond Chandler provides the motivation, the dialogue, and the drama, but MacMurray rounds it off with an easygoing, effortless shine of a performance. I do not know of Fred MacMurray was the sort of actor who took methods and concentration to a deep level, but he was one of those talents who made good acting look easy.
I give MacMurray special attention, for I feel even the film's greatest admirers have more or less taken his work for granted. I do not by any mean wish to demean Barbara Stanywck's performance. She, too, is excellent. I'll go even further and say this is one of the best villains ever put on-screen. At one point, she looks up at MacMurray, we see the white in her eyes as she smiles, and shivers always run down my spine. I do not begrudge her, it is just that everybody mentions her character first of all when discussing the acting of "Double Indemnity." The movie's got three great performances, and the third goes to Edward G. Robinson, once again, as that eccentric claims manager. Robinson provides most of the movie's bits of comic relief, such as when he stands up to his own boss during a claims dispute, sides with the victim, and goes on a rant about "six volumes of suicide" and "suicide by poisons, subdivided by types of poison" and so forth. Robinson is the straight-shooter of the story, and his dynamic with the MacMurray character is a very fascinating sort of friendship. MacMurray even says "I love you, too." Today, we might take that as some sort of homoerotic subtext. Ignoring the fact that that was utterly forbidden in 1944 films, "Double Indemnity" plays it as a strong friendship. So as the movie progresses, the audience again starts to feel empathy, this time for how Robinson might react when he finds out his best salesman is a murderer.
"Double Indemnity" has all the makings of a great film. The photography is rich and wonderful (the Venetian blinds are used at their ultimate here), and Miklos Rozsa's string-dominate music score is more than something that just plays in the background like an out-of-tune jukebox. The film has a snappy motif theme that repeats at just the right moments and never wears out its welcome. And Billy Wilder, the director, always finds the right decisions on how to shoot a scene and when. When to keep his camera locked for a long stretch of time and when to cut away. The screenplay sure paces itself well, but Wilder was the one who had to figure out how to keep things interesting. And he did with flying colors.
Here is another test for a great film. Watching a movie that you know is great with friends or relatives, and not only relishing in the fact that you love the movie, but when you can tell your associates are loving it too.
This marvelous film-noir, directed by Billy Wilder, shoves a dagger into the idea that art cannot be entertaining, only observable. Now "Double Indemnity" does not make its central plot—a salesman co-opting with an unhappy housewife to murder her husband for a $100,000 insurance clause—into something exciting—something people might want to try out at home. In fact, as the movie progresses toward its third act and the two murderers start to lose their grip on what's happening, it poignantly resolves the seemingly tired idea that crime doesn't pay. But there is a certain level of joy to be had from this film. Most of it comes from the brilliant performance of Edward G. Robinson as a comically brilliant claims manager on to the big scheme, and the rest of it comes from the way director Billy Wilder brings tremendous energy out of a leisurely paced story.
As much as I've enjoyed his lighthearted performances, I had always felt that Fred MacMurray was capable of putting darker edges on himself. "Double Indemnity" does not give him the coldblooded meanness I always felt he could play effectively, but it brings him somewhat close to that level. A man who is more clever and intelligent than he appears (not just a dumb salesman, although he does allow femme fatale Barbara Stanwyck to manipulate him), not afraid to undergo any task he puts before himself. But what is also brilliant about MacMurray's performance is the way he gets us the care. That is tricky. The character is a murderer; he planned it out; he arranged it. The movie does not condone his crime, even though his victim is hardly the world's nicest guy. And yet the audience follows MacMurray's story with a certain affection for him, and by the end, much to our shock, we actually sort of wish that he might be allowed to dodge the authorities. Or at least escape the gas chamber. The screenplay by Billy Wilder and novelist Raymond Chandler provides the motivation, the dialogue, and the drama, but MacMurray rounds it off with an easygoing, effortless shine of a performance. I do not know of Fred MacMurray was the sort of actor who took methods and concentration to a deep level, but he was one of those talents who made good acting look easy.
I give MacMurray special attention, for I feel even the film's greatest admirers have more or less taken his work for granted. I do not by any mean wish to demean Barbara Stanywck's performance. She, too, is excellent. I'll go even further and say this is one of the best villains ever put on-screen. At one point, she looks up at MacMurray, we see the white in her eyes as she smiles, and shivers always run down my spine. I do not begrudge her, it is just that everybody mentions her character first of all when discussing the acting of "Double Indemnity." The movie's got three great performances, and the third goes to Edward G. Robinson, once again, as that eccentric claims manager. Robinson provides most of the movie's bits of comic relief, such as when he stands up to his own boss during a claims dispute, sides with the victim, and goes on a rant about "six volumes of suicide" and "suicide by poisons, subdivided by types of poison" and so forth. Robinson is the straight-shooter of the story, and his dynamic with the MacMurray character is a very fascinating sort of friendship. MacMurray even says "I love you, too." Today, we might take that as some sort of homoerotic subtext. Ignoring the fact that that was utterly forbidden in 1944 films, "Double Indemnity" plays it as a strong friendship. So as the movie progresses, the audience again starts to feel empathy, this time for how Robinson might react when he finds out his best salesman is a murderer.
"Double Indemnity" has all the makings of a great film. The photography is rich and wonderful (the Venetian blinds are used at their ultimate here), and Miklos Rozsa's string-dominate music score is more than something that just plays in the background like an out-of-tune jukebox. The film has a snappy motif theme that repeats at just the right moments and never wears out its welcome. And Billy Wilder, the director, always finds the right decisions on how to shoot a scene and when. When to keep his camera locked for a long stretch of time and when to cut away. The screenplay sure paces itself well, but Wilder was the one who had to figure out how to keep things interesting. And he did with flying colors.
Here is another test for a great film. Watching a movie that you know is great with friends or relatives, and not only relishing in the fact that you love the movie, but when you can tell your associates are loving it too.