Dial M for Murder

DIAL M FOR MURDER – made in 3D          A-  
2D version             B+    

USA  (105 mi)  1954  d:  Alfred Hitchcock 

They talk about flat-footed policemen. May the saints protect us from the gifted amateur.   
 —Scotland Yard Chief Inspector Hubbard (John Williams)

Having seen this film in both versions, a preference exists for watching Grace Kelly in 3D, who passionately kisses two different men in the opening two minutes of the movie, where Hitchcock often makes humorous use of objects in the room, flooding the foreground with clever 3D objects, like lamps or flower vases, which add an extra layer of delight to this otherwise one-roomed apartment chamber drama.  Even as you watch the usual movie format, one recalls the use of 3D objects which are otherwise just decorative objects onscreen and part of the interior production design.  Adapted from a highly popular and successful play by the English playwright, Frederick Knott, where much like ROPE (1948), most all of the action takes place in a single living room in London, though shot completely on the Warner Brother’s studio lot in Burbank, yet still given that erudite, British murder mystery, whodunit style flair that Hitchcock relished.  This is the first of three films where Hitchcock used Grace Kelly, also REAR WINDOW (1954) and TO CATCH A THIEF (1955), perhaps the best example of a Hitchcock heroine, smart, gorgeous, and blond, retaining an icy cool demeanor that he must have loved to torture, as he was always tempted to break down that outer barrier of resistance, perhaps perfecting the technique with Tippi Hedron in The Birds (1963), forced to endlessly retake the gruesome final attack scene.  Hitchcock wanted to bring Kelly back for Marnie (1964), but that wasn’t possible once Prince Rainier of Monaco discovered the character she was supposed to play was a sexually repressed, compulsive liar and thief.  Here she is Margot, a deliciously lovely socialite, but a woman of independent wealth which in itself is an object of desire, where her beauty is often ignored as men typically struggle with their inner demons trying to refrain from their lust for money, where the temptation is often too great.  A great many dramas are framed around a love triangle, and this one is no different, one who cynically marries her for her money, Ray Milland as Tony, a former professional tennis player, something of a smooth talking charmer in the William Powell vein, a guy who loves to act with a drink in his hand, and Robert Cummings as Mark, who interestingly worked for Hitchcock a decade earier in SABOTEUR (1942), the young and impetuous lover who still believes in gallantry and noble ideas and brings out a more passionate side of Margot, perhaps his real crime in Mark’s eyes. 

In the opening sequence, Mark, a mystery crime writer and Margot’s supposedly secret lover, is arriving in London from America, ready to announce their unbreakable bond to Tony, but Margot hesitates, claiming Tony’s demeanor has changed, that he’s been more supportive.  No sooner do the words get out of her mouth than the real truth comes out, always over cocktails, where Tony whisks Mark and his unsuspecting wife off to the theater together in a supposed act of gentlemanly friendship, claiming he has too much work to catch up on, when really he has shady intentions, calling Captain Lesgate, aka Swann (Anthony Dawson), presumably to purchase a car.  Instead Tony goes on a lengthy ramble of deviously clever logic and meticulously accurate background storylines, all connecting Swann, a man of many aliases, to a nefarious underworld lifestyle of schemes and petty crimes, including a college class photo with a small group of friends, where Hitchcock is sitting proudly in the picture.  The gist of it all is Tony wants the man to kill his wife, proposing a supposedly foolproof plan that makes it sound almost too easy, where Tony stands to inherit a considerable fortune.  Threatened with exposure of his secretive lifestyle, Swann goes along with the obvious attempt at blackmail.  While the devil is in the details, this storyline is a motherlode of understated precision and detail, where the pace of the film unexpectedly moves straightaway to the crime itself just 45 minutes into the picture, a shocking revelation as this is usually reserved for the dramatic grand finale, but here it all happens before the midway point of the picture.  It’s a starkly dramatic moment where everything planned on paper takes on a completely different dimension in real life, where only the unexpected happens, turning this into a crime gone dreadfully wrong, something of a contrast to the way murder mysteries read in books, where outlandish crimes are committed seemingly at will, often with blood curdling results, the kind of thing that makes for excellent bedtime reading and was likely a preferred pastime of the master of suspense. 

The audience is likely taken aback by such a high level of tension at the midway point, where the rest of the film is the complete cover up and diversionary reinvention of the crime, where Tony manages to conceal and alter certain pieces of evidence before the police arrive, making it look like an attempted burglary, suggesting in his amusingly egoistic way that the thief was likely after his tennis championship trophies.  Despite his supposed dry and urbane demeanor, likely one of Milland’s best performances, the fun of the film is watching the swaggering confidence of the real murder instigator go through various transformations, where there’s never any doubt in his mind that he couldn’t pull off the perfect crime, always believing, up until the very final shot, that he can outwit the police.  Hitchcock takes a rather routine murder mystery and turns it into a tense psychological thriller, using the claustrophobic confines of the apartment to heighten the interior psychological suspense, constantly changing the multiple camera angles throughout, as Tony is continually called upon to re-examine the facts of the case.  Under the watchful eyes of a Scotland Yard Chief Inspector Hubbard, John Williams, the details take on an altogether different effect, continually changing the look of the crime.  The bright and very bold colors of Grace Kelly’s wardrobe in the opening are replaced by more somber colors at the end, where she is sent through the emotional ringer by the director, becoming a sobbing, incoherent jumble of nerves, the picture of chaos, utterly devastated by what happens to her, where Tony’s deliciously cool and suave indifference continually holds our interest, as his villainy is always bathed in artificial etiquette and social charm, suggesting the upper crust and best educated in the nation can devilishly use their learned knowledge and manner to constantly outwit an unsuspecting public who never see it coming.  But the Scotland Yard Inspector likely never went to Oxford, representing a more working man’s inquisitive presence, using a more dogged and workmanlike technique to catch a killer, where Hitchcock makes a clever dig at class differences, where the prevailing attitudes in Britain would likely favor the rich and the powerful, while a guy that tirelessly works for a living rarely earns their respect.

A Star Is Born (1954)

George Cukor on the set with Judy Garland in A Star Is Born, 1954

A STAR IS BORN                  A                    

USA  restored version (176 mi)  1954  ‘Scope  d:  George Cukor            

Premiere version (181 mi), initial released version (154 mi)

A STAR IS BORN is Judy Garland’s triumphant comeback after her exile from Hollywood when her MGM contract was terminated in 1950 on the grounds of being unreliable on the set.   Her storied career by this time was well known, a child star who as a teenager was given amphetamines and barbiturates by the studio heads in order to keep her working without interruption so they could keep churning out the pictures and the profits.  In the middle to late 40’s, though still making pictures, suffering from failed marriages and drug and alcohol abuse, she began developing troublesome behavior on the set, moody, unapproachable, depressed, even failing to even appear on many mornings.  Watched closely by many studio heads upon her return, she delivers a gangbusters performance, arguably the greatest one woman show in the history of movies, where despite her unparalleled singing which is given the full treatment here, her voice deeper, richer, and more mature, she is equally stunning onscreen for nearly three hours exposing a deeper side to her character, turning in one of the greatest acting performances ever seen.  True to form, in 1954 the Academy Awards overlooked her performance in the best actress category, instead awarding Grace Kelly the Oscar in the now all but forgotten film THE COUNTRY GIRL.  This film, however, is a remarkable time capsule, a well directed, utterly poignant testament to her phenomenal gifts, given a story with so many parallels to her own life, it captures Garland at the peak of her powers better than any other work, where she is able to maintain her dramatic intensity throughout the duration, which is simply a phenomenal effort, one for the ages, perhaps because she was under such close scrutiny not to have an emotional meltdown.  Recently upgraded to Blu-Ray, improving the sound and the superbly brilliant color, the film was originally released at 181 minutes, but the studio heads immediately thought it was too long, so it was cut to 154 minutes during its theatrical release, where it remained until 1983 when film historian Ronald Harver restored some but not all of the missing footage, including lost musical numbers that existed only in the hands of private collectors, and additional soundtrack material, using still shots while additional dialogue is heard in the background, so that the film now runs 176 minutes.      

Much like Michael Powell’s film THE RED SHOES (1948) features a dazzling, uninterrupted 17-minute ballet fantasia in the middle of the film, a spectacular dance called The Ballet of the Red Shoes which features surrealistic and supremely colorful backdrops, creating a truly transcendent film moment, this film has a similar cinematic moment, as the 20-minute “I’m Born in a Trunk” sequence which takes the film to intermission is simply breathtaking, brilliantly edited where Garland’s initial song turns into flashbacks of new songs, new set pieces, all revealing the autobiographical story of her long and arduous career before she was ever recognized in show business.  Garland’s voice is heard throughout the sequence belting out one tune after another, including “Swanee,”  “I'll Get By,” “You Took Advantage of Me,” “Black Bottom,” “The Peanut Vendor (El Manicero),” and “Melancholy Baby,” constantly changing her appearance and her costumes along with new rhythm and tempos, much of it very jazz-like, as it feels extremely stream-of-conscious when she finds herself in everchanging set pieces.  It’s a supreme expression of her talent where the art production behind her actually matches the excellence of her performance, an unbelievable moment in film musicals, where some feel it’s the greatest musical number ever filmed.  Of interest, many film historians don’t even think it’s the best musical sequence in the film.  The most famous is Cukor’s one-take shot of Garland singing “The Man That Got Away” HD 1080p "The Man That Got Away" Judy Garland - A Star Is ... YouTube (4:38) in an intimate, after hours setting that smolders with searing emotional poignancy.  It’s a scene that only Garland could deliver so perfectly, as again the theme has such personal relevance.  That’s what stands out in this film, as these lyrics become her life story.  Every word she sings, she’s lived.  After you see this film, you will be unable to get her out of your thoughts.        

Garland plays Esther Blodgett, a singer like many others that performs as a warm up act for greater stars.  She has the distinguished misfortune of trying to save a famous Hollywood legend, James Mason as Norman Maine, from making a fool of himself as he wanders drunk onstage in the middle of a live performance, where she amusingly makes him part of the act, including cleverly getting him off the stage.  Later tracking her down to the after hours joint where he hears her sing “The Man That Got Away,” he’s completely confident that she has what it takes to be a star.  So after introducing her to a few important people, namely his movie producer Oliver Niles (the great Charles Bickford), officially changing her show business name to Vicki Lester, she does indeed become that star, which she proves in the “I’m Born in a Trunk” sequence, after which she’s a bonafide movie star.  But as fate would have it, her star power is rising as Maine’s is declining even more rapidly, continually making a drunk spectacle of himself, ruining those once-on-a-lifetime moments in her life.  Despite his obvious faults, and that he’s a good generation older than she is, she loves him anyway, thinking her love will make him whole, as she’s forever grateful that he opened the doors for her.  One of their happiest moments together is when she comes home from work and delivers an impromptu song and dance routine on the material she’s been working on all day, “Somewhere There's a Someone,” a raucous satire on MGM musicals, but also her intimate rendition of “It’s a New World” that she quietly sings on their honeymoon, another tour-de-force moment, as the song has a poignant reprise late in the film. 

Garland was born Frances Ethel Gumm, and one of the initial scenes that was cut was an early number from “I’m Born in a Trunk” that she sang as a kid with her father onstage, “When My Sugar Walks Down the Street,” a song Garland actually sang as a member of the Gumm Sisters.  Lost forever are scenes of Garland and Mason planning their life together, including the building of their dream house, and a montage of leading role scenes from Norman Maine’s movie career.  One of the previously lost sequences that was wonderfully rediscovered was the wedding proposal which was amusingly caught by microphones during the playback of her song “Here's What I'm Here For,” another is “Lose That Long Face,” a bewilderingly jubilant and effervescent number that she sings and dances as a gamin before and after a heart-rendering sequence about the deteriorating state of her marriage where she breaks down in a dressing room before a masterful segue throws her back in front of a camera, songs that certainly add depth to their developing relationship.  At the premiere of Harver’s film restoration which took place at Radio City Music Hall in New York City in 1983, the audience started applauding when the lost numbers appeared.  Similarly, when I saw this film at the Music Box Theater in Chicago, the audience erupted in applause as soon as Garland’s name appeared in the opening credits, and then again at her first appearance onscreen.    

Despite the length, the pacing of the film never slows, no doubt due to Garland’s appearance and voice which are constants throughout this film.  But mostly what stands out is the genuine effort and dramatic intensity she puts into every scene.  There are very few secondary characters, where Bickford plays a gruff but fatherly producer and Jack Carson plays his typically cynical and personally sneering Hollywood publicity agent.  Tommy Noonan plays Garland’s piano playing lifelong friend, a guy that tells it to her straight.  Other than that, the entire picture belongs to Garland and Mason, whose solid presence driving his Packard convertible likely added a certain stability to Garland’s performance, as in the end, her character’s devoted stand-by-your-man love for him remains her reason for being.  Their beach house on the cliff overlooking the ocean filled with artworks is an architectural masterpiece with one stunning view actually shot in Laguna Beach.  The film is loaded with local Los Angeles landmarks, from film openings at Grauman’s Chinese Theater, award ceremonies and several live performances at The Shrine Auditorium, to shots of the Coconut Grove Night Club, the Santa Anita Park racetrack, even the Beverly Hills Church of the Good Shepherd, as well as various Warner Brother’s backlots.  But certainly this is a timeless film that has been beautifully enhanced by Blu-Ray, as the color saturation on CinemaScope has never been more subtle and boldly luminous, very much appreciated in a musical-sequence-driven film like this, where powerful performances are mixed with small moments of personal intimacy, the kind that come alive in the lyrics of a song.  Despite her professional triumphs, Garland battled nerves and personal problems throughout her entire career, which spanned nearly half a century.  Told at a young age by studio execs that she was unattractive, given amphetamines as prescription weight loss medication while still a teen, this deteriorated her self esteem and left her battling with drug and alcohol addiction nearly her entire life.  Garland died of an accidental drug overdose at the age of 47.  She ranks as one of the greatest stars to ever come out of Hollywood, where her voice alone and song interpretive ability make her singularly unique, but her performances never diminish over time, as despite the sterile artificiality of performing before a movie camera, her intense screen vulnerability makes her a genuine star, as gifted a performer as we’ll ever see, one who has always struck a nerve with the audience.