Top 25 Films Noir: #10-#6

10. Laura (1944)

In Film Noir, words are frequently cheap. No matter how witty Philip Marlowe's comebacks may be, it doesn't stop him from frequently punched out. But no matter how futile words at time may seem on the screen, every since movies learned to talk they've been producing line after line, but some movies take words to another level, Laura is one of those movie.

Based on the novel by Vera Caspary, Laura begins with the murder investigation of the titular Laura Hunt (Gene Tierney), who was killed by a shotgun blast in the face. Working the case is New York police detective Mark McPherson (Dana Andrews), while investigating he interviews the important figures in Laura's life, beginning with her mentor, the venomous and articulate columnist Waldo Lydecker (Clifton Webb). He relates his history with her, rising from lowly office girl to the toast of socialite New York City with Waldo guidance. Waldo's remembrances also introduce us to Laura's fiancee, gold digging playboy Shelby Carpenter (Vincent Price). McPherson also questions him, discovering that Shelby was unfaithful to Laura, and that Waldo was also in love with Laura causing him to jealously despises Shelby. Also involved is Laura's aunt, Ann Treadwell (Judith Anderson), who is in love with Shelby. Each has a motive to commit the murder, and each clearly could have done it. A side story is McPherson falling in love with Laura himself, by hearing about her, reading her journals, and staring at the painting of her hanging in her room. Laura is just as much stage play as it is movie, heavy on dialogue and low on action, most of the movie takes place in the drawing rooms of New York apartments, with an occasional police precinct mixed in. It is a movie about talking, with McPherson playing the role of the straight-man, setting the table for Waldo's poisonous soliloquies, Shelby's playboy shallowness, and Laura's bitter resentments. Laura narrows it's focus on just the five main characters, allowing for them to be fully fleshed out, which is what makes the movie great, the deep and interesting characterizations, portrayed perfectly by the cast. This is accentuated with the simple, clean cinematography and the foreboding atmosphere, both from Otto Preminger's deft direction and David Raskin's haunting score.

Laura is a movie that asks you to believe that one woman could be so beautiful and fascinating that three men fall in love with her, including one who has never met her. When she appears on the screen, the pressure is on Gene Tierney to deliver a performance that transfixes the audience as much as much as the men in her life were, and Tierney delivers the finest performance of her career.

9. Kiss Me Deadly (1955)

In the mid-1950s, communist paranoia in the United States was at an all time high, McCarthyism was in full prominence, and the power of the hydrogen bomb was a daily fear. Movies at the time reflected this, giant bugs bred of nuclear testing and ambiguous spy thrillers were just as common as romances and comedies. Even Film Noir wasn't exempt, with Kiss Me Deadly as the prime example.

The movie begins with a rush, as a young woman in a trench coat, Christina (Cloris Leachman) is running down the highway barefoot, trying to desperately to stop a car. She eventually stop Mike Hammer (Ralph Meeker), a private detective in Los Angeles, who helps her escape from the police who are searching for her. They are stopped by mysterious men, who torture Christina to death, then attempt to dispose of the pair by sending Hammer's car over the cliff. He survives however, and beings investigating the whole affair, leading him all across Los Angeles where he uncovers a vast conspiracy. Any more explaining of the plot would be a discredit to the film, which is one of the most twisting narratives in the a Noir canon. Even if the plot wasn't great, the rest of the movie is so good, it would still be great. Hammer is a fascinating main character because he is so dislikable, he is misogynistic, insensitive, and brutish. In Noir, private detectives are generally viewed poorly by the authorities, but Hammer is downright despised as a "divorce dick" who uses his secretary Velda (Maxine Cooper) to get dirt on husbands, while he seduces the wives, playing both sides against the middle for maximum gain. This is made even more repulsive by the fact that Velda is in love with him, yet he keeps sending her off to the husbands, despite it obviously making her uncomfortable. Yet, as despicable as Hammer is, he still tries to do the right thing and help Christina posthumously, which tentatively gets us one his side. Another tremendous part of the movie is the on-location shooting all over Los Angeles utilizing as many spots around the city as possible. Director Robert Aldrich puts the action outdoors as much as possible and it really puts life into both day and night scenes. He also makes great use of close up facial reactions and off camera action, as many times there is more power in the unseen than the seen. 

Based on a novel by hardboiled author Mikey Spillane and adapted by A.I. Bezzerides, Kiss Me Deadly mixes elements of thriller and science fiction into the tried and true Noir formula with great affect. The dialogue is equally trashy, sarcastic, and sardonic and spoken by characters just as derisive. Aldrich was a master of the genre and expertly executes one of the most shocking and horrifying endings in movie history, fitting end to the film.

8. Ace in the Hole (1951)

Film Noir has become synonymous with dark and gloomy city streets, but many of the best the genre has to offer go off that well beaten path. One of the most notable is Ace in the Hole, set in the Albuquerque, New Mexico and the surrounding countryside, it is Noir in harsh desert sunlight. It is also a shockingly current narrative that's message plays as just well today as it did when it was released.

Kirk Douglas stars as Chuck Tatum, a bombastic reporter who has been fired from several big city newspapers. He joins the small time Albuquerque Sun-Times, hoping to break a big story as his ticket back to the big time. After laboring in obscurity for over a year, Tatum, along with young photographer Herbie Cook (Robert Arthur) finally finds his story when the pair stop at an isolated roadside gas station built near an Indian burial ground. He discovers that the owner of the gas station, Leo Minosa (Richard Benedict) is trapped in the caves under the burial ground. Sensing a big story, he prints it as front page news and soon it becomes a national sensation, bring people from all over the country to see the "cursed caves" and their trapped victim. Tatum starts manipulating circumstances to prolong Minosa's entombment, as well as becoming involved with Minosa's discontented wife Lorraine (Jan Sterling) which begins to send his life, and his story, spiraling out of control. Director Billy Wilder is the master of effective, emotional camera work and the film ends with one of his trademark powerhouse closing shots. Wilder also wrote the script, along with Walter Newman and Lesser Samuels, and it is full of his signature, witty dialogue. He pulls no punches in his attacks of the media. The character of Tatum is a huge, dominating personality and it's hard to imagine any other actor than Douglas being able to play it better, while Sterling is equally well cast as the cheap and sleazy bottle-blond Lorrain. 

Ace in the Hole is a scathing indictment on the press at the time, but it is even more relevant today. Wilder was shocked by the exploitative "vultures" willing to sacrifice morals and human decency for the sake of the story, but what would he think of the Internet, TMZ, and reality shows today?

7. Detour (1945)

While the major studios of Hollywood's Golden Age, such as MGM, Paramount, and Warner Brothers are well known and still operate today, there were many other studios producing movies in those day. Some of which were very small operations that had equally sized budgets so that they became known as "poverty row" studios. One these studios was called Producers Releasing Company, which was only around for 7 years. PRC, just two years before disappearing from movie history, produced a little, unheralded Noir on a threadbare budget that was released without note or fanfare, yet in 1992 was given the honor of being placed in the Nation Film Registry by the Library of Congress. That movie is Detour.

The plot of Detour follows Al Roberts (Tom Neal) a New York piano player who is dating Sue Harvey (Claudia Drake) a nightclub singer who leaves for Hollywood for fame and fortune. Al decides to follow her there, but has to hitchhike across the country. Along the way, he accidentally kills a man giving him a ride, but instead of calling the police, he steals the man's identity and property. Unfortunately, he is found out by another drifter Vera (Ann Savage) who wants in on the scheme. The rest of the movies records their partnership and falling out in dramatic fashion. All throughout the movie, the lack of budget is clear; the rear projection effects while driving are so poor that at one point the negative is flipped and cars are shown driving on the left side of the road. There is really only one major set, a cheap hotel room that is only made look more dingy by the low budget, which add to the movie. It looks like the kind of shoddy hotel room two desperate people like Al and Vera would stop in. There is no Hollywood glisten in this movie, just two lost characters clinging to life. Whether it was intentional or not, the hopeless nature of Detour reflected the situation that many people heading to Hollywood faced. Instead of being greeted by producers breaking down their door looking for the next star, they faced disappointment, poverty, and unachievable goals. It captures human condition in those times better than any big studio production, if Sunset Boulevard is about the skeletons Hollywood's closet, Detour is the rotting corpse in the basement.

Shot in less than three weeks with a tiny budget, no stars, and only 68 minutes long, Detour has no right being anything but a forgotten film that faded into complete obscurity long ago, however it is an unforgettable masterpiece. Few movies leave a lasting impression like this, effectively using the atmosphere, the feeling of dread and hopelessness in the lives of two unglamorous actors portraying two dead-end characters. Detour isn't just the best B movie ever made, it is one of the best period.

6. The Big Sleep (1946)

Convoluted plots are a common characteristic of Film Noir, influenced by the equally complex hardboiled crime novels that inspired them. Large casts of characters, webs of motivations, as well double and triple crosses are all staples of the genre. Sometimes this is to the detriment of the plot, which becomes too complicated for it's own good and distracting from the movie itself, while other's are too simplistic and don't hold the audiences interest. The Big Sleep is the rare movie that is able to both have a intricate story while still being completely entertaining and engaging.

Based on the novel by Raymond Chandler, The Big Sleep features Noir luminary Philip Marlowe (Humphrey Bogart), a Los Angeles private detective. Marlowe is hired by the rich and decrepit General Sternwood (Charles Waldron) to find out who is blackmailing him, as well as keeping an eye on his wild daughter Carmen (Martha Vickers), who is the subject of the blackmail. Also a part of it is Carmen's older sister Vivian (Lauren Bacall), who helps Marlowe investigate and the two become involved. While on the case, Marlowe encounters multiple murders, larceny, kidnapping, and even more blackmail. It is a plot so full of twists and turns that at one point director Howard Hawks was confused about who had killed one character, so he asked the screenwriters but they didn't know either, so Chandler was called and he even he wasn't sure. Hawks was a veteran director of many big time Hollywood productions by this time and does a great job making the plot audience-friendly, but without having to dumb it down. His direction is understand but definitively classic Noir, with dimly lit interiors and a lush, upper-crust Los Angeles setting. Chandler's crackling dialogue is mostly intact, brushed up for the big screen by William Faulkner, Leigh Brackett, and Jules Furthman. The Big Sleep is at it best when Marlowe is shooting verbal daggers at everyone in sight and trading barbs with Vivian. Bogart and Bacall's famous screen chemistry is in full effect and the two embody the cynical Noir love story.

The Big Sleep, complicated as it is, is able to deliver plenty of small moments as well, which is the mark a true film. The movie is just as likely to give you a big shootout moment as it is a well delivered line of dialogue. It is one of the shinning examples of a big budget Film Noir, with an A-list director and actors that stays true to it's hardboiled heart.

Top 25 Films Noir: #15-#11

15. The Lady From Shanghai (1947)

Orson Welles was probably the most misunderstood and under-appreciated filmmaker of his time. Today he is considered one of the best directors of all time, but Welles only had one movie make back its budget and constantly struggled with studio heads wanting to cut and re-shoot his pictures. He was considered a flop and a failure during the 40s, so much so that he was left to make his movies in Europe, where he was much more appreciated. The Lady From Shanghai, along with Macbeth the following year, were the straws that broke the camels back and forced him out of Hollywood.

Welles plays Michael O'Hara, an Irish sailor who rescues Rosalie Bannister (Rita Hayworth) from muggers one night, and is offered a spot working for her and her much-older husband, lawyer Arthur (Everett Stone) on their yacht. He and Rosalie fall in love, and are discovered by Arthur's partner George Grisby, who enlists Michael to help him fake his death. Except George is planning to frame him for a very real murder. Michael is caught and tried for a murder he didn't commit, but escapes to clear his name. The revelatory twist of the true conspiracy is very well executed, though somewhat confusing, and works with the previous plot. Many twist endings don't stand up when watching earlier scenes with knowledge of the twist in mind, but The Lady From Shanghai actually benefits from prior knowledge. The iconic ending of the movie is masterfully shot and extremely creative for its time, creating a feeling of surrealness that is all too grounded in harsh reality. It is reminiscent of Michael's view of the story, like a mirror, he had it all backwards and it shatters around him.

Through a modern prism, we can appreciate Welles pictures, The Lady From Shanghai included. It is undoubtedly a weird movie, but Film Noir is a weird genre in of itself and the oddities are on purpose. The awkward feeling helps to get across the feeling of a fish-out-of-water, just as common sailor Michael is out of place among the rich Bannisters. The awkward angles and bizarre closeups increase the feeling of uneasiness as Michael falls into the frameup. The herky-jerky pacing is a result of the studio heads, who cut over an hour from the film, but the dialogue and camera work is signature Welles. He makes use of many long takes, on location, shooting in Mexico and San Francisco, which gives the movie a gritty realism that contrasts the heady dialogue. Like a lot of Welles work, it has been butchered by studio cuts, but The Lady From Shanghai, such as it is, is still a terrific Noir with one of the best climactic scenes in the history of film.

14. The Postman Always Rings Twice (1946)

There is something inherently seedy in almost every Film Noir, frequently they present anti-heroes, or no heroes at all, while operating in a moral gray area. The audience doesn't always have anyone to root for in these types of movies, which can be dangerous because it runs the risk of alienating the viewer to the point they emotionally disengage. To keep them interested, it has to be well crafted film with a gripping narrative. The Postman Always Rings Twice is short on role models, but terrific movie none-the-less.

The movie opens with drifter Frank Chambers (John Garfield) stopping at a roadside dinner somewhere in the rural Southern California run by the elderly Nick Smith (Cecil Kallaway) and his much younger wife Cora (Lana Turner). Nick hires Frank to do odd jobs around the diner, despite the protests of Cora. Regardless of her hesitancy, Cora and Frank begin a passionate affair that leads them to try to run off together, but Cora realizes she won't be happy penniless on the road with Frank, so back to the diner they go, this time with murder on their minds. Their attempts at killing Nick are expertly crafted to create tension, in anticipation of both the murder and their potential exposure. Nick's eventual murder by the pair is the turning point in the movie, now Frank and Cora, finally are free to be together, suddenly find they are unable to trust one another. Making their life more uneasy is prosecutor Kyle Sackett (Leon Ames), who is convinced of their guilt, though unable to prove it. The movie is at it's best when showing the mistrust of Frank and Cora, who once thought they were in love enough to murder for it, but now can't stand one another. Film Noir generally treats killing pretty callously, but The Postman Always Rings Twice does a great job showing that taking a life can change you.

Based on the James M. Cain novel of the same name, The Postman Always Rings Twice is a classic Noir with a great story and terrific acting. All the actors give terrific performances, especially Turner, probably the best of her career as a prototypical femme fatale and the driving force behind the plot. It is not a light viewing experience, but it is thrilling in parts, and designed to make the audience think about the consequences of murder.

13. Mildred Pierce (1945) 

For the most part movies are a male dominated medium. This is especially the case with Film Noir, where women play a crucial role, though it is usually that of a femme fatale, enticing and ensnaring our hero (or anti-hero). Women rarely were the main character, but in Mildred Pierce, the title-character, played by Joan Crawford is the center of the story. Mildred drives the story from beginning to end, chronicling her rise and fall as a businesswoman and mother in Southern California.

Mildred Pierce is a frame narrative, beginning with the murder of Mildred's second husband Monte (Zachary Scott), with her first husband Bert (Bruce Bennett) accused of the crime. The police interview Mildred in search of a motive, and she give them her history, beginning with her divorce of Bert up to the night of the murder. In the roughly four years in-between, Mildred, along with her two daughters, the spoiled Veda (Ann Blyth) and tom-boy Kay (Jo-Ann Marlowe), goes from poor waitress to by business tycoon. Mildred's principle motivation is to provide the best things for Veda, who desires to be in the upper-class, however by spoiling her she creates somewhat of a monster. When finally reaching where she wants to be financially, it all starts to slip away everywhere else. Though Noir is usually short on morals, Mildred Pierce makes a strong point on the value of family versus wealth, the controlling power of a spoiled child, and the value of marriage, which is very odd for the genre. But then, it is a unique Noir that plays out more in in the family living room than in a trashy alley; in the bright daytime of Malibu, rather than gloomy downtown L.A. It is still a Noir through and through, and the genres trademark shadows and gloom make their presence known. By this point, director Michael Curtiz was a veteran of many different genres, from adventure and crime to romance and musical, and his deft touch framing scenes and managing multiple actors is at full strength here. The large cast all give terrific performances, led by Crawford, who won Best Actress and Blyth, in her first major role. Blyth's Veda is one of the most dislikeable characters in film, as malicious as she is snobbish, a remarkable performance for a 16 year-old. The story, based on James M. Cain's novel, is a driving narrative that is more psychological and less sleazy than other Cain adaptions.

Before Mildred Pierce, Crawford was no longer considered a major star and was growing too old to play young romantic leads, a series of flops followed and her career looked to be in jeopardy. However, after she moved from MGM to Warner Brothers, she made Mildred Pierce and returned to prominence as a star, with her career lasting successfully into the 60s. Her character in Mildred Pierce was unique in the genre at that time, and the movie itself is a shinning example of a successful break from traditional formula. 

12. The Maltese Falcon (1941)

Where it all began. The Maltese Falcon is the first major Film Noir, a huge influence on the genre, and a blueprint that decades of filmmakers would follow. Humphrey Bogart created the quintessential hardboiled anti-hero, while Mary Astor did the same for the femme-fatale. Director John Huston's dark, moody cinematography brought the gloom of German expressionism into American cinema for the first time. As far as mysteries go, the movie delivers in that respect as well, unraveling the twists, turns, and double-crosses that also became a genre staple.

Bogart portrays Sam Spade, a private detective whose partner Miles Archer is murdered while helping Ruth Wonderly (Astor) find her missing sister. Further investigation by Spade reveals Wonderly is really Bridget O'Shaughnessy and is searching for a priceless black statue, "the Maltese Falcon". The Falcon is a classic MacGuffin, an excuse to get the characters together and motivate them, but otherwise not really important. The search to find the Falcon also brings Kasper Gutman (Sydney Greenstreet), his partner Joel Cairo (Peter Lorre), and their muscle Wilmer (Elisha Cook Jr.) into the picture. Spade makes a deal with them to find the Falcon, but must deal with their treachery while also trying to figure out who murdered his partner. In classic Noir style, the plot is occasionally confusing, but it gets resolved satisfactorily in the end. The mystery is an important part of the story, just as Spade isn't sure who to trust, neither is the audience. The original audience may not have even known whether or not to trust Spade, as Bogart was playing a (mostly) good guy for the first time in his career, having been case as gangsters previously. This was also the director debut for Huston, who also wrote the script based off of Dashiell Hammett's novel of the same name. His adaption stays close to the original source material, while giving it the necessary conversion to the screen, something Huston was very good at throughout his career.

While The Maltese Falcon is notable for it's influence on the Noir genre, it should not be taken lightly just how good a movie it is. Terrific acting from all of the main characters, and while it may not be as deep a narrative as some other films, there's something to be said for a good old fashion mystery story.

11. The Naked City (1948)

The majority of Film Noir are told from the perspective of the darker side of life; criminals, private detective, and low-lifes are the main characters. If the police are involved, it is usually of a corrupt kind, or operating outside the law. That isn't the case with The Naked City, which is told from the perspective of two by-the-books, New York homicide detectives.

These two detectives are veteran Detective Lt. Dan Muldoon (Barry Fitzgerald) and rookie Detective Jimmy Halloran; the story follows them as they investigate the murder of a young woman named Jean Dexter. The investigation plays out through a very detailed, police procedural style; we see crime photographers, sketchers, witnesses interviewed, and suspects interrogated as well as the tremendous amount of trial-and-error legwork involved in tracking down leads. Suspects are introduced, including Jean's psychiatrist, the cagey Dr. Stoneman (House Jameson), her boyfriend Frank Niles (Frank Niles), and the mysterious Philip Henderson. Muldoon and Halloran slowly put the pieces together and track down the killer, leading to a climactic chase and shootout. However, neither of the two detectives, any of the suspects, or even the victim is the main character of this story, the main character is the city of New York. Shot almost entirely on location in the city, the movie makes great use of both famous locations as well as common city streets, alleys, and subway stations. The New York is alive with characters, and the movie takes time to give us little looks into common people as they go about their business, many of them portrayed by local non-actors.

Throughout the case, The Naked City is presented with purposeful realism, the movie wants you to feel as if you're watching a documentary about a murder investigation, not a dramatic rendition, something it does very well. Director Jules Dassin, who would soon be blacklisted out of Hollywood, masterfully arranged the movie, cross-cutting to different parts of the city at different times, successfully telling us one of the "eight million" stories in the naked city, as the film's closing line puts it.

Top 25 Films Noir: #20-#16

20. The Dark Mirror (1946)

Film Noir, though it frequently has moments of violence, usually plays out on battlefields of the mind. Sometimes this is manifested in back-and-forths of wit ala Philip Marlowe, but others it is internal and psychological with characters struggling against themselves. The movies were reflecting the increased public interest in psychoanalysis post-War War II. After the horrors of war and perceived insanity of the Axis leaders, it was en-vogue and the works of Freud became common knowledge to the public. The Dark Mirror deals heavily with psychoanalysis and it's use in crime solving, as well as the corrosive effect of jealousy and sibling rivalry.

The movie begins with the murder of a prominent Doctor, with a woman (Olivia de Havilland) being witnessed coming and going by several people. However, when the woman is questioned by police Lt. Stevenson she is able to produce multiple alibis for the time of the murder. Stevenson is puzzled, until he goes to the woman's house and discovers she is actually two people, sisters Ruth and Terry Collins, identical twins. There is no way of knowing which one is the murderer and Stevenson has to give up the case; one of the twins has effectively gotten away with murder. Until, that is, Stevenson enlists a psychoanalyst, Dr. Scott Elliot (Lew Ayers) to analyze the sisters and discover which one committed the murder. What immediately stands out about The Dark Mirror is de Havilland's performance as the sisters, which is equally subtle and distinct. One sister is dominating, abusive, and psychotic, while the other is meek and neurotic, but de Havilland doesn't make this obvious at first. Most people with metal disorders don't act abnormal all the time, they show signs here and there while slowly unravelling, and this is how she plays it. On the flip side however, these are two different people and many actors would play them too similarly at first, as the same person, but de Havilland is able to pull the performance off, experimenting with method-acting for the first time in her career. Also helping the movie is the use of special effects, allowing both sisters to seamlessly be on screen at the same time, it's never a distraction and you never notice the effect. Veteran Noir director Robert Siodmak makes great use of it, having the sisters interact on screen as much as possible and using mirrors plentifully, a key theme in the movie. Mirrors appear to show us an exact replication of whatever it is reflecting, with one glaring difference: everything is backwards. Ruth and Terry look exactly the same, but are really exact opposites.

The Dark Mirror is a gripping, psychological thriller that stands up today from an entertainment standpoint, add to the de Havilland's great performance and Siodmak's atmospheric direction and you have an excellent, unique Film Noir.

19. Scarlet Street (1945)

Up until this point in Studio run Hollywood, most films had happy endings, especially during the depression of the 20s and War War II. Times were tough then, real life was depressing enough, people didn't want to go to the movies and see a sad ending. Crime pictures and Film Noir didn't follow this trend, however, frequently ending in deadly shootouts and the death of the main character. It's not surprising that one of directors that started this change was Fritz Lang. Lang had been making movies since 1919 in Germany, including ones that had a big influence on the Noir genre such as M (1931) and Dr. Mabuse, the Gambler (1922). When coming to America, Lang was able to easily slide into the Noir genre, which has a lot in common with his previous Expressionist style. One of the most notable of his early American Noir is Scarlet Street. 

Chris Cross (Edward G. Robinson) is a middle-aged amateur painter and cashier at a monotonous job for the past 25 years, his wife (Rosalind Ivan) is domineering and doesn't approve of his hobby. This dull life leaves him ripe for the picking for by con artists Kitty March (Joan Bennett) and her boyfriend Johnny Prince (Dan Duryea). Kitty dupes him into believing she loves him, and uses him for personal gain. The movie chronicles Chris' transformation to killer, building up more and more as Kitty and Prince continue manipulate, cheat, and extort him. Scarlet Street is as dark a tale as they come, watching Chris go from meek and bumbling to tortured murderer can be painful, but is also full of potential pitfalls. The path that Chris followed has to credible to the audience, or the end result will not ring true. Kitty is the driving force behind this change, the quintessential femme fatale, so desirable yet so manipulative and frustrating for Chris. It's Bennett's performance of Kitty that makes the ending ring true and Chris's downfall believable. Scarlet Street is a perfect example of how outside-the-box Film Noir could be when directors were willing.

18. The Killing (1956)

The loose nature of Film Noir allowed for significant experimentation by the filmmakers, especially in the 1950s when directors were given more and more freedom. This was due to the decline in the studio system and the fading away of the high powered producers. The films were generally pretty cheap to make so the studio didn't get very involved and producer/director partnerships were common, so all those involved were on the same page. 

The Killing employs what was at the time a unique narrative structure, using multiple points-of-view, including an omniscient narrator, to tell its story. There aren't any true main characters in the movie, instead focusing on a group of criminals as they prepare for, and attempt to pull of, a racetrack heist. There's Johnny Clay (Sterling Hayden), the ringleader; the financier Marvin Ungar (Jay C. Flippen); George Peatty (Elisha Cook Jr.) a meek betting teller; a sharpshooter, Nikki Arane (Timothy Carey); a fighter to create a distraction; Maurice (Kola Kwariani), the track bartender Mike O'Reilly (Joe Sawyer) and Randy Kennan, (Ted de Corsia), a dirty cop. The buildup to the heist introduces us to these characters, and gives us their motivation for pulling the job. Johnny hopes to leave crime and marry his girlfriend, Fay (Coleen Gray), Mike wants the money to get better health care for his sick wife, and George is trying to appease his greedy and adulterous wife Sherry, who along with her boyfriend Val (Vince Edwards), want to cut in on the take. The middle of the film is the heist itself, drenched in tension and full of action, the film cuts back and forth from character to character, while also jumping back and forth in time, from early in the morning to right in the thick of the heist. This was very uncommon at the time and very influential in the heist movie genre from, with Ocean's 11 (1960) just a few years later, borrowing significantly from the structure.

Director Stanley Kubrick considered The Killing his first mature picture and it was certainly the first time he had stepped outside of the box, something he's continue to do for much of his career. The Killing isn't just a notable experiment in narrative, it is also a gripping crime thriller and a perfect example of Film Noir in the 50s. 

17. The Killers (1946)

While pulp fiction was a key influence on Film Noir, notable mainstream authors also had their works adapted by Noir directors, or even worked on the films themselves. Graham Greene, William Faulkner did both, while Ernest Hemmingway had a couple of stories turned into Films Noir, most notable The Killers, based on his 1927 short story. 

The Killers tells the story of insurance investigator Jim Reardon (Edmond O'Brien) as he attempts to piece together the story of a gas station worker, and former boxer, known as "The Swede," (Burt Lancaster) who was recently killed by two professional hitmen. During this investigation, Reardon encounters Swede's former girlfriend (Ava Gardner) and the group of criminals he eventually falls in with, including "Big Jim" Colgax (Albert Dekker). The flashbacks take him from his last fight as a boxer, through his criminal days, and up until his shooting. Being based on a Hemingway story, it's not surprising that the films first 10+ minutes, lifted directly from the story, are the high point of the movie, climaxing with one of the most iconic "hits" in movie history. It may seem like a bad thing if a movie peaks in the first 10 minutes, but in reality that scene is the narrative's chronological ending. The Killers toys with storytelling structure by telling much of the story through interviews and flashbacks, so when the Swede is gunned down at the beginning of the movie, we are really seeing the end of the narrative. Many movies introduce to a character, spend the whole picture trying to show us why he is so interesting, then kill them in the end to shock us. This can work, but if the beginning and middle fails to interest us, we find no emotional reaction to the death of the character at the end. The Killers begins with a reason for us to be intrigued, the killing of the Swede, then spends the rest of the narrative proving to us we were right to be interested.

The Killers was Burt Lancaster's film debut and one that would propel him into stardom throughout the latter half of the 40s through the 60s, and while not Ava Gardner's debut, it was her first major film role and turned her into a star as well. Director Robert Siodmak was in the middle of a impressive run of Films Noir and using a script, based Hemmingway's story, written by the legendary John Huston and

Richard Brooks. This is an impressive collection of talent and one that delivers on multiple levels.

16. Out of the Past (1947)

Consequences are a huge theme in Film Noir, every cause in these movies has an effect, and characters can never, ever escape their past. In Out of the Past, Jeff Bailey (Robert Mitchum) makes a series of decisions, driven by love, that eventually catch up to him and draw him back into a world he hoped to put behind him.

The story opens with hired gun Joe Stephanos tracking down Jeff in a small town near Lake Tahoe. Joe tells him to go to the house of Jeff's former employer, gambler Whit Sterling (Kirk Douglas). While on the way to the house, Jeff tells his girlfriend Ann (Virginia Huston) all about his past as a private detective in the employ of Sterling, tracking down a girl, Kathie Moffat (Jane Greer), who Sterling believes stole $40,000 from him. When Jeff does find Kathie, they fall in love, double-cross Sterling, and go on the run together. The whole time Jeff believes Kathie didn't steal the money, but one night she shoots Jeff's former partner, sent from Sterling to find them and Jeff discovers she did steal it. Disgusted, Jeff retires to the small Tahoe town, where he meets Ann and settles down. Now the past has found him and Sterling hires Jeff for another job, but is only trying to frame him. Jeff is on the run and the rest of the movie shows how it plays out. Director Jacques Tourneur was a master of light and shadows, of creating atmosphere in every day locations. A hotel room, a rain soaked street, a bar in Mexico, each a malaise of darkness and light, with characters constantly blowing wafts of smoke out of the dark into a flood of light. The smoke is reminiscent of the moral grey area in between black and white that Film Noir operates in. There aren't any heroes in Out of the Past, just people, decisions and consequences.

When Sterling and Jeff are talking on his Lake Tahoe balcony, Sterling says that paying taxes would be "against my nature," and that is what this movie is really about, Jeff isn't trying to hide from his past, he is trying to escape his nature. No matter how much he tries to bury in the Northern California country with a small town girl, he can't stop being who he is, nor can he stop it from destroying himself.

Top 25 Films Noir: #25-#21

25. The Set-Up (1949)

While many movies paint broad pictures with large narratives, Film Noir frequently narrows it's focus in order to delve deeper into the characters and the circumstances they find themselves in. The Set-Up does just this, taking place over just one night on a single block in an unnamed city. Directed by Robert Wise, the movie gives us a brief glimpse at the seedy world of boxing, gambling, and the lives they affect.

Stoker Thompson (Robert Ryan), is a washed up boxer getting ready to fight the significantly younger Tiger Nelson (Hal Fieberling). Nelson is a heavy favorite, so Stoker's manager Tiny (George Tobias)  agrees to fix the fight for the mob. The "set-up" is that Stoker will go two rounds, then get knocked out in the third. However, Tiny is worried that Stoker will screw it up, so he doesn't tell him, confident Nelson can knock him out in the third round. The fight plays out through the middle third of the movie, as Stoker produces the fight of his life, complicating things for himself and Tiny. Further exacerbating matters is Stoker's wife Julie (Audrey Trotter), who wants him to quit fighting and is considering leaving him if he continues. A short movie at 72 minutes, The Set-Up never goes beyond itself, sticking almost exclusively with Stoker and Julie, we see Stoker waiting for his fight, interacting with the other fighters backstage while Julie paces the city, trying to forget about the fight while figuring out her future. The movie gives us a slice of the Thompson's life, a turning point for their relationship and their lives. One of the key themes of the film reveals itself as the fight reaches it's fever-pitch and the fans are screaming for blood: the savagery just isn't in the ring, it permeates throughout the who picture. For the boxers, violence is just their job, but for the fans it is their revelry and to the mob it is their lives. Violence as entertainment breeds violent people. Stoker is justified because he is fighting for his marriage, while the rest fight for their own gain or pleasure.

The Set-Up, without any major stars, feels a lot like a documentary. Wise's camera does nothing to change this, with only one shot (from Stoker's point-of-view, after he is knocked down) varying from a traditional style. Wise went on to direct big Hollywood pictures with huge budgets like The Day The Earth Stood Still (1951), West Side Story (1961), and The Sound of Music (1965), but The Set-Up, a little B-movie, stands up with the best he has directed.

24. This Gun For Hire (1942)

Movies allow us a look at things we could never see in real life; historical pictures put us in a time before we lived, science fiction shows a possible future, while Film Noir places us amongst criminals and killers. This is important because it allows us to explore possible motivations for the evil they commit, while also offering the characters a path to redemption. We may not always be satisfied with these answers and outcomes, but that doesn't mean the attempt shouldn't continue to be made.

Though Alan Ladd received the fourth billing in This Gun For Hire, his character, the hitman Raven, is what the movie is really about. Raven is hired to kill a blackmailer, but after doing the job he is double-crossed by his employer Willard Gates (Laird Cregar). Raven is now on the run from the police when he meets Ellen Graham (Veronica Lake) a nightclub performer who is enlisted by Senator Burnett (Roger Imhof) with digging up the dirt on suspected traitors Gates and Alvin Brewster (Tully Marshall). Complicating matters more is Ellen's police detective boyfriend Michael Crane (Robert Preston), who is tasked with hunting down Raven, now on the run with Ellen as a hostage. The movie first shows us Raven as a reckless, psychopathic killer, but through his conversations with Ellen, we learn of his tortured past as an abused orphan, beaten and unloved by his caretaker. He killed his caretaker at 14, and society "slaps a label on him" as a killer, so a killer he becomes. While this may be an unsatisfactory excuse for Raven, he eventually find redemption by sacrificing himself to save Ellen and expose the traitors. 

Unlike most crime films, This Gun For Hire doesn't make a caricature of its killer, it attempts to delve into the reason behind the criminal. This isn't surprising since it is based on a book by one of the best authors of the 20th century Graham Greene. His story, along with a performance by Ladd that turned him into a star, and director Frank Tuttle's effective use of Los Angeles locations made This Gun For Hire a hit, and a movie still worth watching today.

23. Murder, My Sweet (1944)

The first film version of Raymond Chandler's hardboiled detective novels to feature Philip Marlowe was not The Big Sleep (1946), but Murder, My Sweet two years earlier. Chandler's books, along with those of Dashiell Hammett and James M. Cain, had a huge influence on Film Noir, the situations and plots, but mostly the dialogue. Hardboiled characters alternated from swapping punches to trading wisecracks, and no character epitomized this more than Marlowe. While Humphrey Bogart played the character a little harder and more serious in The Big Sleep, Dick Powell's Marlowe is closer to Chandler's original, equally tough and sarcastic. 

The movie is based on Chandler's 1940 novel Farewell, My Lovely in which Marlowe is searching for the old girlfriend of a thug, Moose Malloy (Mike Mazurki), who has been released from prison after eight years. He also starts investigating a stolen jade necklace, seemingly unrelated to the other case. Like all of Chandler's stories, it get much, much more complicated. Murder, theft , blackmail, and a myriad of lies get Marlowe in deep with a classic femme fatale, Helen Grayle (Claire Trevor), her step-daughter Ann (Ann Shirley), and a mobster Jules Amthor (Otto Kruger). Both cases slowly begin to intertwine and Marlowe must solve them, while trying to escape a murder rap the police want to place around his own head. As with many hardboiled detective stories, a big theme of Murder, My Sweet is the isolation of the private detective. Pressed in on all sides, by criminals and cops alike, Marlowe lives by his own code of ethics that occasional runs afoul of the law yet in the end, the right just decision is made. Like Sam Spade at the end of The Maltese Falcon (1941), turning in the woman he loves because she is a murderer, Marlowe compromises along the way but in the end does what is right. He does what the police cannot, but crossing those lines leaves him in a place where personal relationships, no matter how much the movie wants us to believe that Marlowe and Ann are in love, can't last. 

Though The Big Sleep is a superior movie, Murder, My Sweet is the closest film rendition of Chandler's novels, both in plot and tone, and Powell plays the truest Marlowe. It's shot in a straightforward manner by film noir veteran Edward Dmytryk, letting the twisting plot and Powell's terrific performance carry the picture.

22. Gun Crazy (1950)

Film Noir is surpassed only by science fiction in the realm of B-movies; they were cheap to make, easy to shoot, and made money, so studios started churning them out. Because of this, there were a lot of low quality Films Noir released that have passed away from memory, however some of those mass produced films transcended their budget and became really good movies. Gun Crazy is one such movie.

The plot follows Bart Tare (John Dall) from young age to adulthood, chronicling his obsession with guns. This passion first drives him to break a store window and steal a gun as an adolescent, an action  which gets him sent to to reform school, despite the protests of his sister and caretaker Ruby (Anabel Shaw). After reform school, Bart joins the military and his love of firearms only grows, as does his skill in using them, however after returning to his home town, he starts to get bored with civilian life. Along with his two friends, Dave Allister (Nedrick Young) and town sheriff Clyde Boston (Harry Lewis), Bart goes to a see a traveling carnival. While there, Bart sees the performance of Annie Laurie Starr (Peggy Cummins), a sharpshooting, trick-shot specialist. It's love at first sight, and the two get married and drive off the live it up on the road. However, once the money runs out, Annie threatens to leave, so the two begin a string of hold-ups, and fall more in love than ever. At the beginning of the movie, Bart is presented as a good kid who commits a crime, stealing the gun, because of his infatuation with them. Later on, we see the same good person who goes astray again for the sake of his other obsession: Annie. If this movie, so garish and brash with it's moments of passion, both of love and guns, is trying to make a point other than to entertain it is this: the downward spiral brought about by a lack of self-control. Bart can't control his desire for Annie and guns, while Annie is driven to crime by her desire for money. Even though he loved her, Bart saw how wrong Annie was and should have let her leave, no matter how much he loved her, but he is unable to control himself. Like the young Bart who breaks the store window, his lack of self-control leads him to crime and an eventual downfall.

Besides a gripping, fun story, what makes Gun Crazy stand out from other B-movies is the direction of Joseph H. Lewis. Lewis was a second level director according to the studio-system hierarchy, and though he was never given a big picture to direct, he was never content with making average pictures. He added a lot of style and flair to his movies, despite the lower budgets and lack of stars, and the care he takes adds a lot to Gun Crazy. 

21. The Stranger (1946)

Orson Welles influence looms large over the film world; particularly Film Noir, where he, along with cinematographer Gregg Tolan, pioneered many of the styles and techniques adopted by the genre in the 1940s. While The Maltese Falcon (1941) is the first Film Noir story wise, Citizan Kane (1941), though not a Noir, pioneered the look in America. Welles would go on to make a number of Films Noir himself, the first of which was The Stranger.

While cities are the usual location of choice for Film Noir, The Stranger is set in rural Harper, Connecticut where Nazi fugitive Franz Kindler (Welles) is hiding out under the assumed name of Charles Rankin. Kindler is teaching at the local prep school and married to Mary (Loretta Young), the daughter of a Supreme Court Justice. His life is complicated when a former Nazi comrade Konrad Meineke (Konstantin Shayne), is released from prison by the UNWCC in order that he might lead them to Kindler. Kinder kills Meineke and buries the woods before Nazi hunter Mr. Wilson (Edward G. Robinson), can discover him. Wilson inserts himself in small town and begins a game of cat-and-mouse with Kinder, which makes up the bulk of the plot. Both Robinson and Welles are titanic personalities and terrific actors on top of their game in The Stranger. Their verbal tete-a-tetes are impressive, especially for Welles, as he changes back from small town teacher into Nazi war criminal. Welles, who also directed the picture, inserts a lot of Germanic impressionist style in The Stranger, and shows us that shadows and atmosphere are just as plentiful, and effective, in the country as they are in the city. The movie reflects the paranoia of post-War America regarding Nazis, which eventually morphed into the Red Scare of the 40s. Another example of how film can capture the mood of a period as well as any medium.

The Stranger was the only film directed by Welles that broke even at the box office, his only hit. It's a gripping drama with a climactic ending and terrific acting. As Welles first Noir, he was was only scratching the surface of his potential in the genre, ideas toyed with in The Stranger are perfected in later films; we'll see more of Mr. Welles later.

Top 15 Hitchcock Films: #5-#1

5. Psycho (1960)
After a run of hits in the middle-to-late 1950s, Alfred Hitchcock took a step towards a more European style with 1959's Vertigo, moving away from his showman/entertainer persona. Vertigo was not a hit, but Hitchcock wasn't ready to abandon his new found artistic side. Instead, the following year he released what turned into his biggest hit and arguably most famous film, Psycho. Psycho combined elements of both sides. the artist and the showman, not only creating atmosphere but also paying it off with sudden, thrilling moments of terror.
Psycho begins by introducing us to Marion Crane (Janet Leigh), who steals $40,000 from her job and drives off to start a new life for herself. Despite this crime, the audience is instantly sympathetic with Marion; after all, who hasn't dreamed about escaping their life, and starting over with a pile of cash? Added to that, Leigh was a huge star at the time, so viewers start out rooting for her. Leigh eventually stops at the Bates Motel and meets Norman Bates (Anthony Perkins), a shy, awkward, but immediately likable young man with whom Marion has chemistry and who could represent that new start for the heroine. Marion eventually intimates that she has decided that to return the money, reaffirming the audiences confidence in her as the heroine of the story. Maybe Norman will return with her and they will fall in love? However, all that is completely thrown out the window during the famous shower murder scene, which not only flips the expectations of audience completely upside down, but breaks decades of movie rules. Leigh was the only big star in Psycho, Perkins was merely a bit player at this point. Taking the top billed star and killing her off a third of the way through a movie was unheard of at that time. Stars drove the movie industry in those day, fans would go see movies just because of the stars in them, but Psycho made the bold choice to place story above star was a decision that changed movies forever. The risk pays off, as not only does Psycho carry on from a tonal standpoint, but actually improves after Leigh's death because now the audience is uneasy; anything could happen. This sense of dread is payed off as tension build before closing out in the movies horrifying conclusion. Psycho is a lesson in atmosphere, from Bernard Herrmann's creepy, manic score to the design of the sets. It was made on a low budget, which only aides to the atmosphere. Low budget movies can often look cheesy, but with some movies, like Psycho or 1945's film noir Detour, it only adds to the immersion. They seem like real places where things like this could really happen, not some gleaning and glistening Hollywood set. Psycho does just that, placing you in a true to life location. I've never passed a roadside hotel and not thought of the Bates Motel.
The mark of a great thriller is that, not matter how many times you've seen, no matter how familiar you are with every element, it still manages to keep you on the edge of your seat. Psycho accomplishes this, not just through shocking moments of sudden violence, but also with a perfect build-up and atmosphere. Psycho's influence on film-making in undeniable, it essentially re-shaped the horror/thriller genre, but while is was often imitated, it has rarely been equaled.

4. The Lady Vanishes (1938)

Hitchcock's British films all have a distinct tone and style, weaving intrigue and mystery with humor and charm. The Lady Vanishes is second to last of Hitchcock's British films, and his best. What was started with his earlier British films is perfected in The Lady Vanishes. The movie is a seamless blend of the best elements of those previous films. The exotic locals of The Man Who Knew Too Much, the espionage thrills of The 39 Steps, Secret Agent, and Sabotage as well as the humor and romance of Young and Innocence, all are mixed together in The Lady Vanishes to perfection.

The movie begins in a fictitious European country on the brink of the second World War. As a train full of passengers are stopped by an avalanche, a young woman named Iris (Margaret Lockwood) on her way back to England to get married, meets an Miss Froy, an elderly lady also on her way back to England. They form a friendship and sit together on the train, but after Iris dozes off, she awakes and not only has Miss Froy (Dame May Whitty) disappeared, but no one else on the train seems to remember that she ever existed. Iris begins to investigate the disappearance, but find resistance at every turn, except for Gilbert, a young folk musicologist (Michael Redgrave, in his film debut). The mystery continues and eventually leads up to a satisfying conclusion, but as with many of Hitchcock's films, it's not so much about reaching the solution as it is about getting there. The Lady Vanishes is rich with interesting and well drawn characters, each bringing something unique to the story. Take Charters and Caldicott (Basil Radford and Naunton Wayne), two Englishmen who are more worried about cricket scores than coming war in Europe. The pair provide genuine comic relief, but also serve to advance the plot, instead of being simply tacked on like many films do. Also, while Charters and Caldicott do provide much of the humor, the rest of cast do a good job as well, particularly the leads of Redgrave and Lockwood. Their witty banter is not only funny but also charming, as their back-and-forths eventually lead to a burgeoning romance. As with all of the movie, this romance rings true and they are characters you want to spend time with, something that not all Hitchcock movies accomplish, even the good ones.

The Lady Vanishes marked the end of a period in which Hitchcock produced not only some of his most entertaining and genuine films, but also some of his best. The Lady Vanishes, though not one of Hitchcock's most well known movies, particularly in America, is a masterpiece of blending suspense, mystery, humor, and charm.

3. Spellbound (1945)

Like most of the films produced during Hitchcock's partnership with producer David O. Selznick, Spellbound had a tumultuous production process. Hitchcock wrestled with Selznick for creative control throughout the filming of the film, with the producer attempting to shape the movie, from casting to cutting. Despite the this clash of titanic personalities, Spellbound not only became a tremendous picture, but one that has a single vision, style, and look that is shaped by the ideas is explores.

At a mental hospital in Vermont, Dr. Constance Peterson (Igrid Bergman), a psychoanalyst, finds out that the new head of the the hospital, Dr. Anthony Edwardes (Gregory Peck), is not only an impostor but also the confessed murderer of the real Dr. Edwardes. The impostor is also suffering from amnesia and Constance, who is in love with him, believes he is innocent and suffering from a guilt complex. She helps him, who has escaped the police, to unlock his memories and find out what really happened to Edwardes. Along with her mentor, Dr. Brulov (Leo G. Carroll), Constance analyzes his dreams, which are show in surreal scenes designed by Salvador Dali. These dreams are what help them solve the mystery, not only of the murder, but of the amnesia. Peck, Bergman, and Carroll are all tremendous, and the script, while very smartly written, never turns into psychobabble. It's a movie that plays with high concepts and backs them up with artful visuals, yet never tries to rise above what it is: a thriller.

Though Hitchcock had been messing with the minds of people on and off the screen for years before Spellbound, this time it's part of the fabric of the movie. Instead of, like the average thriller, tortuous circumstances effecting the mind of the characters, it's a tortuous mind that effects the reality. What can be more scary than our subconscious, what we neither know nor understand? The beautiful cinematography, alternating between the stark, sharp shots of the conscious and the hazy, twisted camerawork of the dream sequences, backs this up. Besides being a great story played out by great actors, what makes Spellbound special is that it not only flips the script on the common movie thriller but also carries through on that with a depth of visuals that inform the mind of what the story is saying. 

2. Strangers On A Train (1951)

The early 1950s was a transitory period in Hitchcock's career, moving from the black-and-white stylish thrillers of the 40s to the garish color of the late 50s. With Strangers On A Train, he took the dark artistic vision of the former while launching into the exploration of evil that would shape much of the rest of his career. Exquisitely shot and directed, Strangers On A Train is a deep on symbolism and metaphor but also fill of thrills and containing one of the best movie villains of all time.

The movie opens when two men, tennis star Guy Haines (Farley Granger) and Bruno Anthony (Robert Walker), meet on a train. Both men have a person in their life who is causing them a problem, for Guy it is his malicious, adulterous wife Miriam (Laura Elliott) that he wants to divorce so he can marry Anne Morton (Ruth Roman), a senator's daughter. Bruno on the other hand, hates his condescending father and suggests to Guy that they trade murders; Guy kills his father and Bruno kills Miriam. Guy believes that he is speaking hypothetically to simply pass the time, but Bruno is deathly serious. Guy get accused of the murder and must deal with the maniacal Bruno, who wants him live up to the "deal" to kill his father. Hitchcock accents the plot with motifs that display the differences, and similarities, between Guy and Bruno. Doubles (cars, feet, tennis, drinks) are a big part of the movie, while the light and shadows show the contrast in their natures while the reflection in Miriam's eyeglasses suggest they aren't that different after all, merely a reflection. Both have obstacles (Miriam, Bruno's father) to the women in their lives (Anne, Bruno's mother). Guy himself becomes violent with Miriam, but that step to the murder Bruno commits is a big one and indicative of his insanity, which Hitchcock represents with the out-of-control carousel; a mind and a life spinning out-of-control. While inside Bruno is just that, on the exterior he oozes charm. Played perfectly by Walker, Bruno's character is a complex look at what makes a person take that last step to murder.

Conceived as a simple thriller, without a noteworthy star and based on pulpy novel, Strangers On A Train transcends that label in ever conceivable way. It is not only thrilling, but also thought provoking, stylish, and brilliantly written, directed, and acted. Many movies in this genre just want to put you on the edge of you seat, Strangers On Train engages you eyes, ears, and brain in every scene.

1. Notorious (1946)

After battling with David O. Selznick over Spellbound the previous year, Hitchcock began working on his next film with the intention of making a serious love story. Part way through production, problems between the two arose again and Selznick ended up selling the film to RKO, finally giving Hitchcock the freedom to make the movie he wanted to make. The result, Notorious, is one of the greatest films ever made and one that redefined what a thriller could be.

The movie begins with a man on trial being found guilty of being a Nazi spy. His daughter, Alicia Huberman (Ingrid Bergman) is enlisted by T.R Devlin (Cary Grant), a government agent, to infiltrate the house of Alex Sebastian (Claude Rains) a high up member of the Nazi party. However, not before Devlin and Alicia fall in love, starting a complicated love triangle when she marries Sebastian. While living in his house in Rio de Janeiro, Alicia attempts to balance the triangle while discovering what the Nazis are up to. Complicating matters more is the growing tension between her and Devlin, neither wants her to be there, but he places duty over love and let's her go ahead with the plan, creating tension. This kind of complicated love story was rare at the time, and has never been topped since. Notorious continues as a cat-and-mouse game, with both Sebastian suspicious of Alicia, while she is trying to discover what the Nazis are planning. Bergman, Grant, and Rains are all terrific in the movie, as are some of the lesser roles such as Sebastian's mother (Leopoldine Konstantin), who is just as much his handler as his mother. This movie finds all three leads in their peak years, and they each delivers genuine emotion in a movie where it would be easy to overplay. Their acting and the superb writing not only make the movie feel real, but the characters as well. You sympathize with them, even the Nazi Sebastian.

Compared to every other major Hitchcock film, Notorious has the least action in it. There are no planes attacking, no shoot outs, no chases, the most action is Alicia driving a little too fast at the beginning of the movie. Still, as far as tension, suspense and thrill are concerned, it stands up with the best because of how well established the characters, motives, and consequences are. At no point in the movie does the audience think Alicia is safe, and that sense of impending disaster covers the whole story. Even when she is found out, the movie keeps the tension by the slow poisoning of Alicia. Due to the dark tone of the movie, you can never be sure she won't just die, which was rare in the era of happy endings. The production side of the movie also stands out among the best, adding much to the story. The house in Rio is a beautiful set, and the checkered floors speaking to the mental and emotional chess match in the movie. In addition to the tremendous art design, story and acting, Hitchcock's direction and camerawork is impeccable, knowing when to step back and when to insert himself. In the party scene, Hitchcock starts with a wide shot of the party from the balcony above, tracking down all the way to the a close up on the key in the hand of Alicia. The implications are clear: despite the prescience of many people at the party, and the risk of the Nazi plot, Alicia is the key to the movie. Unlike other thrillers, love drives the plot of Notorious, both men genuinely love Alicia and are willing to risk a lot for her. Devlin risks losing her, while Sebastian risks his own life. The difference is when Devlin decides the risk is too much and removes her from danger because there is true love between them, while Alex knows that he is just holding on to a tattered dream. Notorious begins in a slow burn that eventually rises to a dramatic conclusion. It is a movie that both satisfies and leaves you thinking, something that can be said for the best movies, of which Notorious certainly is.