Scarlet Street

It's hard to see that your youth has escaped you. It happens to us all. The sad personage of Christopher Cross is very touching. He has seen his life pass with a nice gold watch all he has to show for it. His wife is ugly and mean spirited, his work is dull. He is quite a good painter but hasn't time to do anything about it. Them "she" comes into the picture. All those charms, sexy, vulnerable, and evil, with a connection to Dan Duryea (what a cad) to boot. When the Robinson Character comes to her rescue, it's Johnny (Duryea) who is slapping her around. She is perceptive enough to believe that the well dressed older man must have money, and, if she plays her cards right, she can squeeze him for money. He falls, hook, line, and sinker, and really believes she cares about him. Not only is she an opportunist, she even uses his art as her own to get more money. Because he is moonstruck, he lets her go on and on. There is a subplot concerning his wife's first husband and some other things, but he slowly descends the path to destruction. Everyone watching the movie knows that the poor sap is going to get his at some point. The way it happens is a bit of a stretch. Chris should really feel very little guilt; he is victimized all long the way. But in film noir, the dark elements demand their pound of flesh. He is paid for his foolishness and trust.

Scarlet Street (1945)

It starts slowly, with little bits of intrigue and a lot of empathy for Edward G. Robinson's character, Chris Cross, a lonely cashier with dreams of being in love. And then he sees a man hitting a young woman on the street, and he rushes to help her. Things start a torturous, complicated, fabulous decline from there. The woman sees how Cross finds her beautiful, but Cross, it turns out, is unhappily married. And petty, selfish cruelty turns to many worse things.

Fritz Lang, the Austrian director now firmly settled into Hollywood, is not known for cheerful movies (he directed M, for one), and this one draws on so much empathy, and heartbreak, and finally downright shock and surprise, it's breathtaking. Great film-making, beautiful and relentless. The woman, Joan Bennett, comes alive on the screen, duplicitous and raw. Her boyfriend, Dan Duryea, is perfect Duryea, clever and annoying and as usual, coming out less than rosy.

The cinematographer, Milton Krasner, has so many richly brooding and dramatic films to his credit, it's almost a given that we will be invisibly swept into every scene (and much of the action takes place in an apartment almost tailor made for great filming, with glass doors, and two levels to look up or down from). The story is key, based on a novel by Georges de La Fouchardière, little known here, but he wrote "La Chienne," the basis for Jean Renoir's second film (1931), where the film announces to the audience that it is about, "He, she, and the other guy . . . as usual." And that describes Scarlet Street just as well, for starters.

Lang is credited as one of the key shapers of the film noir style, and that certainly applies visually. It lacks that film noir key of a young man at odds with post-War America, but it does have a man, alone, at odds with the world. Chris Cross is a pathetic creature, far more naive than most of us could ever be, but yet we identify with him because he represents innocence swept up in a world more sinister than we expect. He's a victim, in a way, but also the cause of his own troubles.

And troubles they are. What a story, what a film. Dark, wrenching, and unpredictable. Very Fritz Lang.

SCARLET STREET is, no doubt, one of Hollywood's first mature forays into the relationship of a prostitute with her pimp and her client.

Until 1945, the big screen's version of a 'lady of the night' was almost waif-like in her mien, casting innocent doe-like eyes at any gentleman who would like to share "a spot of tea" for a nominal fee. As portrayed by Joan Bennett, Kitty is cool,cynical, calculating, a 'ho' who is world weary and holds no illusions. Dan Duryea as her slick, slimy pimp/boyfriend, Johnny, matches Kitty scene for scene in the seediness of their relationship. "Lazylegs" is Johnny's term of affection for his Kitty when he's not cuffing her about openly on the streets.

Then there's the third wheel to this tragic ride, Edward G. Robinson as the henpecked husband Chris Cross who also happens to be a frustrated weekend artist. Kitty sees Chris as a hearty meal ticket as Chris laps up Kitty's milk, little realizing that his dream girl is a nightmare in waiting.

Director Fritz Lang's unflinching finale leaves the viewer drained of emotion. There is no Hollywood happy ending at the end of SCARLET STREET, just a back alley of guilt, punishment and shame.

It is no coincidence that 'Melancholy Baby' is refrained throughout this flick. As played on Kitty's phonograph, the record is scratched and skips over and over at the same spot. For this recording is, like all the characters who reside on SCARLET STREET, damaged goods.

This is a good, tense drama that builds up an interesting 'noir' story that includes some rather creative story elements. It has several strengths, but most of all it features three fine performances by Edward G. Robinson, Joan Bennett, and Dan Duryea. It's also easy to see Fritz Lang's skilled hand at work in the story-telling, mood, and pacing.

Robinson shows his skill and versatility in portraying a mild-mannered bank cashier who really wants nothing more than the chance to dabble in his painting, before getting caught up in a complicated situation. Bennett is quite effective as the opportunistic young woman who befriends him, and Dan Duryea adds his presence and ability to very good effect - Duryea had the knack of portraying this kind character as well as anyone. His appearance in any film-noir always seemed to make an average movie good and a good movie even better.

The story is developed carefully, as Robinson's character slowly begins to realize that he has gotten into a situation beyond his control. By the time that things come to a head, the tension is considerable. The ending is also rather resourceful, in being carefully written so as to satisfy the stringent requirements of the production code of the era while also ending the story in a way that seems appropriate and fitting to the tone of the movie as a whole.

All of this adds up to make "Scarlet Street" a fine movie that is well worth seeing, especially for fans of film-noir.

I've seen LA CHIENNE, and although most of SCARLET STREET is a remake, the two are entirely different films. LA CHIENNE is virtually a comedy. In fact, it begins with an introduction by puppets (!), so we know we're not to take the plot very seriously. Renoir's film is light and fun, and is very interesting to watch for comparisons of 'moral standards' between France and Hollywood.

By now, you probably know the story. A sad little man gets involved with a prostitute and her pimp. Hollywood toned down the fact that Robinson and Bennett were involved in a sexual relationship, and the ending of the film had to live up to Hollywood's standards of 'morality'. I won't spoil it for those who haven't seen it yet, but needless to say, the endings between the two films differ in a major way.

What makes SCARLET STREET so outstanding in my opinion, is that given the repressed nature of the protagonist, the film works better because of the changes. You can better understand the pressures of what living as a human doormat has done to this man, and how coiled up he really is. Edward G. Robinson gives one of the best performances of his career, which is saying a lot! I know, there will always be those who will insist on seeing him as the cigar-chomping tough guy only, and won't accept him as anything else, but SCARLET STREET showcases his more subtle talents and his enormous range. Joan Bennett is pure charm and snake oil in this, and Dan Duryea out-weasels Richard Widmark in KISS OF DEATH [in fact, I'll bet good money that the weasel toons in WHO FRAMED ROGER RABBIT were based on Dan Duryea's character!]. Hollywood films will always falter in comparison to other country's films because the industry's fear of offending audiences always dulls the blade of truth. But, at least during the classic era of Hollywood, the talent usually made up for the story flaws. What do you get when you put Fritz Lang, Edward G. Robinson, Joan Bennett and Dan Duryea together? Magic!