Une incroyable histoire

Part of the appeal of the film noir genre has always been its ability to freeze everyday life from the past and redisplay it faithfully to viewers many decades later. It's one of the reasons why I enjoy the genre so much, and "The Window" does its job better that most. If you want to step into a time machine and see what real life was like in New York City in the 1940s, this is the movie to see. I saw it at a local film noir film festival, and I hope it comes out on DVD.

It's a bit jarring to see Della Street as a gritty Manhattan housewife with a coarse blue-collar husband, but it's also a lot of fun and she looks terrific. Barbara Hale is still alive as I write this, amazingly, and will turn 91 in a few weeks. At the film festival, this film was introduced by someone who had telephoned Barbara Hale and asked her for her memories of making this movie. She said the movie was supposed to take place in the summer, so the actors dressed very lightly, but it was really filmed in a much colder time of year and she remembers freezing as they shot scene after scene. Could have fooled me, the movie comes across as summery and hot with lots of sweat.

Every detail fascinated me, especially of apartment life in the 1940s: tiny rooms, closet-sized bathrooms with dwarf sinks, and kitchens that looked like airplane galleys. Dark and sinister stairwells up to dingy apartments, fire escapes and alleys, cigarettes galore, and black telephones like my grandmother used to have. Every scene is richly textured, almost as if the director knew that audiences of the distant future would be watching his movie and be mesmerized by the detailed scenery, from the local police station to the pay phone at the corner drugstore.

Others have reviewed the plot and I have nothing much to add. But I will emphasize that the plot develops along paths that I would never have predicted, and the ending will rivet you to your seat. The conclusion was deeply satisfying and caused the audience to burst into whistles and applause. Hope this movie comes out on DVD quick... it's a treasure.

A belter of a B noir out of RKO. Story plays as a variant to the boy who cried wolf legend and finds young Bobby Driscoll as Tommy, a boy prone to telling tall tales. So when one night he spies upstairs neighbours murdering a man, nobody believes him...

The build up to the crime is considered, we are privy to Tommy's home life in a cramped New York tenement, his parents loyal and hard working and they have plenty of love for their fanciful son.

Once the crime is committed, a shocking incident compounded by the fact it's perpetrated by a normal looking male and female couple, a destitute pairing prepared to do the unthinkable just for cash, then things get real tense and the thrills begin to roll.

Tommy is now under threat from the killers and he needs to be silenced, so as the cramp confines of the hot and sweaty tenement area are vividly brought to life via noir visuals, Ted Tetzlaff (director) and his cinematographers (Robert De Grasse & William O. Steiner) excelling, the paranoia and tension builds to the point that the gripping finale acts as a merciful release.

Very well performed by a cast that also includes Paul Stewart, Ruth Roman, Arthur Kennedy and Barabara Hale, this late 1940s noir is highly recommended. 8/10

"The Window" is a rich and underrated tale of urban terror from a ten-year-old's perspective. Tommy Woodry is jolted from his innocent world of make believe games when he witnesses a murder in the middle of the night. Making the terror all the worse is that the murderers are his upstairs neighbors, the Kellertons, and neither the police nor his parents will believe his story. The terror grows darker when Tommy's only protection, his parents, leave for the night because of shift work and family illness. The music and lighting brilliantly reflect the evil that begins with nightfall and the removal of his parents. When the Kellertons kidnap Tommy, even pretending to be his parents to fool the police, bad "parents" replace the good ones. "The Window", in a way, is the opposite of the classic "These Three" of thirteen years earlier. In the latter, the lies of a young girl (Bonita Granville) regarding adult wrongdoing are believed without reservation, with swift and devastating consequences. "The Window" also nicely showcases the hard life of the working class in 1949: the only telephone is at the drug store and the apartments are cramped and dilapidated with no modern appliances. Paul Stewart, as Joe Kellerton, plays his villainous role with a cool, almost smug arrogance, while Bobby Driscoll, as Tommy, expertly handles the role of an innocent child drawn into the gritty ugliness of urban violence. The movie maintains a fast pace, with total suspense all the way to the nail-biting end, and every second of it is worth watching.

The theme of a murder being witnessed by someone who no one believes, is based on the familiar concept of "cry wolf once too often and no one will believe you when you're telling the truth". Here it's played to the nth degree by an excellent cast--Bobby Driscoll, Barbara Hale, Arthur Kennedy, Ruth Roman and Paul Stewart--and directed in realistic, gritty style by Ted Tetzlaff. The New York tenement setting is an absorbing environment for this chilling tale of a boy who is in danger when the murderers know they have been seen--and must come to grips with his situation without the aid of his parents or police. Based on a Cornell Woolrich story, it's so tight and suspenseful for the length of its running time that it effectively projects the dark, nightmare world where one's worst childhood fears can come true. With the dark ambiance of lower East Side tenaments as its setting, danger and death seem to entrap the boy in every lurking shadow until his ultimate pursuit by the killers. This is a modest thriller that achieves a maximum of suspense thanks to the skillful performance by child star Bobby Driscoll and bears a resemblance to other Woolrich stories, as for example 'Rear Window'. Barbara Hale and Arthur Kennedy register strongly as the parents. Ruth Roman and Paul Stewart are a chilly pair as the neighbors from hell.

A little boy learns the value of truth-telling in white-knuckle, claustrophobic fashion— a memorably done movie in all departments. No need to dwell here on the consensus strong points.

Seeing this taut little thriller in a small western town when I was 10 not only scared the heck out of me, but influenced my perception of urban life for years to come. Seeing the film again 60 years later, I'm impressed with producer Dore Schary's insistence on the grimness of the tenements, at least by later suburban standards. There's no attempt to glamorize or even varnish the family's dingy, cramped flat. Whether on NY location or on an RKO sound stage, the lighting remains dark and oppressive. Of course, that not only heightens the noirish atmosphere, but also lends an uncommon degree of realism to the family's working- class environment. After all, Dad works the nightshift, while Mom helps with the extended family, leaving little Tommy home alone. And that, I believe, amounts to more than just a handy plot device. And get a load of the on-location ruins where the kids play at the beginning—looks like something out of post-war Europe. No wonder MGM went after Schary in an effort to become more socially relevant in post-Andy Hardy America. There may be a lot of Hollywood in the melodrama itself, but the look and feel is definitely not Hollywood of the time. What a fine little film that's still edge-of-the-seat excitement. And, if I recall correctly, I was an especially good little boy for a long time afterward.