Barbara Stanwyck and Fred MacMurray Arrestingly Team for Double Indemnity

            One of the signature and earliest entries in the film noir cannon, Paramount Pictures’ Double Indemnity brought the genre to Hollywood’s forefront, with healthy box office returns and critical response, leading to high placement among 1944’s best, and several major Oscars nominations. After his debut as a director via 1942’s The Major and the Minor, Billy Wilder entered the big league as an elite writer/director with this beautifully produced adaptation of James M. Cain’s classic crime novel. Wilder, working with the legendary Raymond Chandler, crafted an ingenious screenplay with some of the best dialogue found in noir (or anywhere), which his star trio of Barbara Stanwyck, Fred MacMurray and Edward G. Robinson, all working at the peak of their powers, put over with great style and conviction. A pulsating score by Miklôs Rôzsa and magnificent black-and-white cinematography by John Seitz that help set the standard for the visual style found in noirs to come are other key assets that allow Double Indemnity to endure as one of the great, freshest and most entertaining works from Cinema’s Golden Age.

Although the Production Code limited just how far Wilder could go in depicting one of the most unsavory storylines yet seen in a Grade A Hollywood production the director artfully addressed plenty of then-taboo themes, including insurance fraud, adultery and murder in vivid fashion. Also, at a time when optimism was a standard component of movies as WWII audiences looked for light relief from the stark realities of the era, Wilder daringly allowed for a very bleak ending to Indemnity and filmed an even darker gas-chamber scene that, with the Code’s input, was eventually nixed before the general release of the movie. However, despite Code restrictions Wilder and his sterling team of collaborators managed to suggest much of the starkness found in Cain’s novel, allowing Indemnity to serve as a prime example of how effectively a classic era studio production could depict mature themes. With Wilder’s sure hand in evidence throughout, the film retains its power to enthrall, placing among the elite bunch at the forefront of Wilder’s best, which also include Sunset Boulevard, The Lost Weekend, Stalag 17, Some Like it Hot and The Apartment.

                Barbara Stanwyck, at the top of her game after proving herself in both dramas such as Stella Dallas and lively romantic comedies (The Lady Eve, Ball of Fire) during her first fifteen years in film, reportedly was reluctant to take on the unsympathetic role of one of noir’s coldest-blooded femme fatales, until Wilder challenged her with a query to the effect of “Are you an actress or a mouse?” Answering his directive using the full measure of her exceptional talent as an intuitive screen artist of unsurpassable ability, Stanwyck lends her modern, straightforward acting style to create in Phyllis Dietrichson a spellbinding portrait of an evil-yet-enticing woman who cooly works towards obtaining financial gain with a fascinating combination of detachment and ruthlessness. From Phyllis’ memorable entrance in a towel and iconically synthetic blonde wig, Stanwyck utilizes a largely subtle approach, but adds vivid reaction shots and swift mood changes at key moments to indicate the nefarious nature behind Phyllis’ calm exterior. Stanwyck is so in sync with the many facets driving the character’s pernicious actions it may appear she’s performing effortlessly, but watching something like the “I loved you Walter, and I hated him” confrontation, it’s hard to imagine any other female star of the period bring off the scene with the naturalness and persuasion Stanwyck lends to the role. Among one of the richer filmographies, her acute, peerless work in Indemnity makes it an easy choice for the desert island Stanwyck performance.

Fred MacMurray also scored heavily cast against type, after years of service as a low-keyed, handsome and amiable costar opposite some of Hollywood’s biggest leading ladies, starting with Claudette Colbert in 1935’s The Gilded Lady and including Katharine Hepburn, Carole Lombard and, memorably, Stanwyck in a top holiday offering, 1940’s Remember the Night. In Indemnity, MacMurray ideality utilizes his sage, stoic reserve and tough, observant demeanor to suggest the underlining motives that drive insurance salesman Walter Neff to begin a torrid relationship with Phyllis against his better judgement, then mastermind a ploy to obtain the title asset. Although Walter’s criminal actions should place him as a co-villain of the piece, MacMurray clearly outlines the passions pushing the helpless Walter to his grim destiny, adding redeeming features to the role and drawing audience sympathy in the process, thereby making Neff an early example of the many screen anti-heroes to come. Post-Indemnity MacMurray would continue to thrive as a calm reassuring presence in romantic comedies, then later as a father figure in Disney hits such as The Shaggy Dog and the Absent-Minded Professor, as well as on television in the ling-running My Three Sons, with his deft work in 1954’s The Caine Mutiny and reteaming with Wilder as the heel of 1960’s The Apartment reminding viewers how impactful he could be when playing in an ignoble vein.

                As Barton Keyes, Walter’s supportive, alert boss, Edward G. Robinson maintains the high-performance level set by his costars. The vibrant, fast-talking Keyes could come across as abrasive in the wrong hands but, with juicy-yet-convincing emoting, Robinson elicits a viewer’s empathy by showing how fully dedicated Keyes is to solving any crime connected to his field, and how passionate he is regarding his work, while also displaying great loyalty and affection towards Walter. When Keyes discusses “the little man” who eats away at him when he feels something is wrong with a case, Robinson is so great in detailing Keyes’ exacerbation when he’s befuddled, one starts to root for him to achieve peace of mind by resolving the mystery at the heart of the story, even at the expense of Walter’s welfare. Robinson’s pitch-perfect work as Keyes’ places high in the actor’s cannon, alongside his star-making turn as Rico in Little Caeser and, also in gangster mode, his vindictive Rocco in Key Largo. Robinson would continue in high profile lead and character parts, in such top-grade fare as Scarlet Street, House of Strangers (earning Best Actor at Cannes), The Ten Commandments, The Cincinnati Kid, Planet of the Apes and moving work in his final film, Soylent Green, released posthumously after Robinson’s death in early 1973, after which he also was awarded a highly-warranted Honorary Oscar at the 1973 ceremony.

                Among the rest of the cast Jean Heather, having a great ingenue year with both this and Going My Way to her credit, is competent and often teary in the other sizable role as Lola, Phyllis’ wary stepdaughter. Porter Hall makes his typically strong impression as a witness called in by Keyes to discuss the central crime, and Fortunio Bonanova has an amusing moment early on with Robinson as a would-be insurance scammer. Finally, Bess Flowers, who in Twilight Zone manner seems to appear briefly in every other great classic film is at it again, here as a secretary. Prominent character player Norma Varden (Casablanca, Strangers on a Train) also can be glimpsed in the same mode, while no less than Raymond Chandler is also on view, in a cameo as a man reading a newspaper.

The film received largely positive reviews upon its release in July of 1944, and while at the Academy Awards the following year a Going My Way juggernaut prevented Double Indemnity from winning any Oscars, seven nominations found the movie deservedly in the mix for Best Picture, Director, Actress, Screenplay, Cinematography, Music and Sound Recording. However, MacMurray and Robinson, both of whom would never receive an Oscar nod, were unjustly overlooked when they should have been serious contenders (one wonders if they both were deemed Best Actor possibilities and split the vote; today, they could legitimately vie in different categories, and win). The decades subsequent to the film’s release have only witnessed a continual rise in stature.  Pointing to how well the film has stood the test of time as a prime Hollywood classic, Indemnity has placed high on “Greatest of All Time” lists, including those from the American Film Institute, with the film coming in at #38 on the AFI 1998 poll of the best American Films, then rising to #29 on the 2007 poll, while Stanwyck’s remarkable portrayal help Phyliss Dietrichson place at #8 on the AFI list of top villains. In 2005 Time magazine also listed Indemnity among the 100 greatest films, and the following year the Writer’s Guild of America voted the trenchant screenplay the 26^th best ever. Watching the movie anew eighty years after it’s first release via a sublime 4K Criterion print justifies the many hosanas Double Indemnity has been granted, as regardless of number of viewings, the film holds up as a gripping, never-bettered noir sure to pull in an audience as seductively as Phyllis Dietrichson does with poor Walter Neff.