Il diritto di uccidere

Bogart is at his uncompromisingly dark best as the Hollywood writer whose temper leads to accusations of murder and conflicted relationships. By turns charming, cold, romantic and remorseful, Dix Steele is as unpredictable a character as Bogie has ever played.

He shows no emotion on learning that Mildred - the innocent he has just met - has been killed, and those who know him accept his violent nature as simply part of the Steele package. But thanks to the skill of Bogie and director Ray, the audience never entirely loses sympathy for him. The moments of tenderness he shows to his alibi-turned-lover Laurel (an ethereal Gloria Grahame; imagine Hope Davis glammed-up for the 50s) alternate with fits of anger to turn their relationship into that of a tragic poem.

In A Lonely Place is film noir that focuses on romance rather than crime. The reasons for Mildred's murder are never satisfactorily made clear, but it doesn't really matter. The movie asks whether love and trust are earned by what a person says or what they do. And in the end, actions speak louder than words.

For all the praise film-noir is lavished with (quite a lot of it valid), the majority of it relies on convention as much as the standard white-picket-fence, happy-ending 'family' film does: just invert the

cliches and bathe them in deep-focus shadows. While this movie, on its surface, resembles the classic-style film noir of DOUBLE INDEMNITY, it's a whole different animal. No calculating evil females or tough guys masking hearts of gold populate IN A LONELY PLACE. It's a much more wrenching and powerfully disturbing film because the murder that draws the protagonists together turns out to be of peripheral importance, while the love story between Humphrey Bogart's troubled screenwriter and Gloria Grahame's B-actress spins inexorably towards damnation completely on its own power. The basic story has him a suspect in a killing and her in love with him yet unsure of his innocence, but director Nicholas Ray stages the proceedings so that WE see it's not the murder that disturbs her but her own conviction that his self-destructive and volatile nature will destroy them both. Yet, Ray never takes the easy way out of having Bogart turn monster on her. You care deeply about these people, hoping desperately (as Bogart's agent does in the film) that some transforming moment will come that will spare these people and allow their deeply felt love to flourish and heal them both, even as the evidence before your own eyes tells you there ain't no way. For 1950 -hell, for any year- such an unsentimental and uncompromising treatment of a tragic adult relationship is a terrible wonder to behold. The shadows suffusing this excellent film come not from UFA-influenced lighting but from moral and spiritual desolation, the death throes of old Hollywood, the coming of McCarthyism and the Black Dahlia murder of 1947. But most of all, they're projected from within the characters themselves. The finest work of Bogart, Grahame and Ray. Special note should be taken of Ray and Grahame, whose own deteriorating relationship formed the template for the doomed lovers; for them, this film is an act of great courage. Bogart himself has taken elements of all his previous romantic loners and blended them with the sour pigments of Fred C Dobbs; as the star and executive producer, his performance is unflinching in its honesty, and as fearless as Grahame and Ray. See this movie.

The fickle world of writing scripts has set the beat, left you lonely, isolated, in retreat, cynical and quite sneering, motivation is despairing, a murdered hat-check girl brings police and some heat. Laurel Gray provides an alibi, defence, an affair that takes a day to start, commence, passions burn and fires rage, as you draft from page to page, past history suggests, you are quite tense. As time moves on, your anger oversteps the mark, your whole demeanour's built on fury and is dark, as you erupt and overflow, people aren't safe, punches get thrown, you're bite's at lot more worse, after you've barked.

Great performances, a dark and disturbing tale, as relevant today as it was back then, which can't always be said for films of the time.

"I was born when she kissed me. I died when she left me. I lived a few weeks while she loved me."

Powerful, emotionally real and devastating, with one of Bogart's most complex roles he ever played and maybe his Greatest Performance. One of the best Noirs i've seen 'til Date, i Highly Recommend it.

The story concerns a Hollywood screenwriter (Bogart) who is suspected of being a murderer. Grahame, a neighbor, steps in to defend him – she saw the murdered woman leave his apartment alone. Afterwards, they begin a relationship. But Bogart's nature is a violent one, and that violence keeps pushing forward. It makes Grahame rethink her earlier testimony, as well as fear for her own safety. It's quite a unique film for the time, one that actually deals with the possibility of an abusive man. Everything is perfectly done, and the script is wonderful. The film's tagline was 'The Bogart suspense picture with a surprise ending!' What is surprising about the ending is just how much weight it carries. 9/10.