In a Lonely Place (1950) is a film about man and his inner demons, a tragic portrait of the artist, a lonely soul who sees his chance for love slip irrevocably away from him as the result of his uncontrollable anger. But, more than that, the film is about people’s desperate need to reach out to others across isolation. When In a Lonely Place was made, the world was just recovering from the horrors of World War II. Joseph McCarthy was beginning his crusade against Communists, and blacklisting was occurring in Hollywood. This disturbing film not only illustrates the end of a romance in post-war America, but, in the big picture, addresses new post-war tensions in American society.
Humphrey Bogart plays Dixon Steele, a World War II vet and almost washed-up-screenwriter with a reputation for violence. Steele is presented with the opportunity to script a best-selling romance novel, Althea Bruce for a Hollywood movie. But instead of wasting his time actually reading the novel himself, he brings home an enthusiastic, young and guileless hat-check girl, Mildred Atkinson (Martha Stewart), to tell him the plot. Later that night, after leaving Steele’s apartment, Mildred is found murdered, and of course Steele becomes the prime suspect. But, his beautiful neighbor Laurel Gray (Gloria Grahame) provides him an alibi, and their relationship quickly transforms from fleeting acquaintance into love affair. Interestingly, the film focuses far less on the murder of the young girl than on the investigation's effect on Steele and Gray and their new and tenuous romance, and in the end In a Lonely Place has come to be known more as “an existential love story” than a murder mystery.
Bogart’s role represents a significantly different form of noir than his portrayal of Philip Marlowe in the 1946 film, Big Sleep. Building on his characterization of the tough, sarcastic, world-wise, detective with integrity, Philip Marlowe, Bogart’s Dixon Steele embodies the violence of an angry, paranoid, cynical, self-destructive writer and suspected murderer. Nicholas Ray said of Bogart “he was much more than an actor – he was the very image of our condition. His face was a living reproach.” (p. 12)
Much of post-WWII American culture seemed to take on a jaded attitude. Often film noir’s characters become hardened loners after experiencing physical, moral or emotional trauma|, and this is certainly true for the characters in In a Lonely Place.
Film critic Kim Morgan writes:
“Noir love — the kind that causes characters to throw caution to the wind — frequently is just a cynical fancy that won't survive the angst and ugliness inside the man or outside the world. Its happiness is typically intense, but brief. Love or lust often motivates action in noir. But it also holds up a mirror to myriad themes, largely existential, that hang over characters with profound malaise. Ray’s study of the delicacy of true love, but the delicacy of creativity, violence, trust, and a person's own position in an often ugly, alienating world.”
“The film is filled with all sorts of losers and loners,” states Polan, about In a Lonely Place. But, Dixon Steele is not a loser, but rather a neurotic, paranoid, angry artist. Bogart’s Steele is a complex blend of brooding tortured-soul, highlighted with touches of warmth, compassion and light-hearted humor. We see this side of Dix early in the film, in the scene with the autograph-seeking children outside the Hollywood restaurant, Paul's; and in his protective friendship with the older actor with a drinking problem. But these moments are, in the end, of course overshadowed by Dix’s erratic angry behavior.
The film is shot in classic 1950s Hollywood style, with an emphasis on medium shots, a mix of sometimes claustrophobic scenes with on-location scenes, typical of post-war open-air filming, according to Polan (p. 10). The classic noir visual elements emerge over time as the storyline progresses and gets darker. Noir films’ dark plots are usually enhanced by their equally dark visual style, generally consisting of sharp contrasts between light and dark, distinct shadows, and odd, often dramatic lighting. In In a Lonely Place this type of lighting is most evident in the scene in which Dix recreates Mildred’s murder for his friends policeman Bubb (Frank Lovejoy) and Sylvia (Jeff Donnell) Nicolai. The opening scene is also typical noir, with Bogart driving through Hollywood at night, with his eyes reflected in the rearview mirror.
Place is of course also important to this film. Director, Nicholas Ray studied with Frank Lloyd Wright, and his love of architecture reveals itself in this film. He chooses to re-create his own first Hollywood apartment complex, as the homes of Dix and Laurel. The design perfectly reflects the theme of the film. Their apartments are mirror images, separated by a courtyard, but still visible to one another. This fact becomes evident when Dix comments to Madeline, "You've got me at a disadvantage. You can see into my apartment but I can't see into yours." "I won't take advantage of it," Laurel says. "I would if I were you," Steele responds.
The telephone is another important and interesting element. Early in the film Dix’s character mentions that he commonly ignores the telephone. But, in the end, the telephone calls cannot be ignored. A telephone call alerts Dix of Laurel’s plans to leave him and a call brings them news that Dix has been cleared of suspicion of murder (although by then, as Laurel wearily states, “It just doesn’t matter.”). And, ultimately a telephone call saves Laurel, for it is not clear why Dix stops himself from strangling her at the end of the film. Is he just interrupted by the ringing telephone?
Three paintings in Laurel’s apartment also become very noticeable in the second half of the film, appearing in several scenes. The first is a serene image of a woman, the second suggests a voyeuristic scene, depicting a woman with a man behind her looking through binoculars, and the last depicts a man struggling with a yoke. The images Ray chose as a backdrop in Gray’s apartment seem to reflect the themes of the film and the deterioration of the characters’ relationship, but perhaps they also represent the deterioration of Grahame’s and Ray’s real-life love affair. (The two were divorced shortly after the film was produced.) The images in Laurel Gray’s apartment are highly contrasted with those in Steele’s – swords hanging on the walls of Steele’s apartment, reinforcing the feeling of danger and impending violence.
During one of their early scenes together, Dix tells Laurel that when he met her, "I said to myself, there she is. The one who's different. She's not coy or cute or corny." Damaged, but hopeful, the two fall in love. Dix begins to write prolifically with Laurel as his muse. We want to believe that the power of love will prevail, and that they will live happily ever after. In these scenes, we see the couple blissfully together in Laurel’s somewhat expansive and bright apartment, and we want them to stay together and be happy, especially with the backdrop of the jaunty “Leave it to Beaver” 50’s-TV style music playing in the background as Laurel flits across the screen, playfully turning off the light on his desk while he is working with him absent-mindedly turning it back on. She takes care of him, tends to his needs, greets company and teases him about being ‘dopey.’
But Dix soon begins to show signs of his violent temper, and Laurel begins to fear him. Her fear leads her to question whether Dix might be actually be guilty of the murder. When he begins to feel her slipping away from him, he almost desperately proposes marriage, and Laurel seems too frightened to refuse him, but secretly makes plans to run away. Dix discovers she is planning her escape, and is so hurt and angry that he loses control and nearly strangles Laurel to death, in much the same way that Mildred was killed. Just then they receive a phone call informing them that the real killer, Mildred’s lover, has confessed, clearing Steele as a possible suspect, but leaving in question his ability to become a killer.
A schizophrenic musical score underpins the beginning of this final scene of the movie. As Dix walks back and forth from Laurel’s bedroom to the living room, trying to maintain his fantasy that everything is fine and he will soon be marrying his true love, and realizing that the relationship is falling apart, and becoming increasingly agitated, the music alternates between a sort of twisted 50’s sitcom melody to harsh, low foreboding strains.
Dix Steele in many ways reflects Nicholas Ray in this film. Both are products of Hollywood. Grahame was Ray’s muse, just as the character of Laurel played by her becomes Dix Steele’s muse in the film. Dix lives in Ray's first Hollywood apartment.
“By the end of the 1940s the American public was jaded, and it was getting harder for Hollywood to sustain many of its driving myths, one of the most important of which had had to with the miracles of love and romance (p. 19). In the wake of many hasty wartime marriages, there was now a new American phenomenon of divorce. A happy marriage and family were not the only possible outcome for lovers, as is evidenced by the marriage between Grahame and Ray, which was breaking up during the making of this film, with Grahame eventually marrying Ray’s son by a previous marriage. (p. 20).
One of the most chilling scenes of In a Lonely Place occurs when Dix Steele loses control after discovering that Laurel has spoken to the police captain about the murder case and Steel’s possible involvement. He abruptly runs from the beach, jumps in his car and begins to drive away. Laurel barely catches up with him and jumps in the car to join him. Dix speeds away, driving dangerously. The camera pans from the dark and windy road to the speedometer – he is driving 70 miles an hour. Laurel looks frightened but gets out a cigarette, lights it with a shaking hand and tries to give it to Dix, but he refuses. He screeches around the corner and the camera pans down to Laurel’s foot as she presses down hard into the floorboards as if trying to break. Dix and Laurel have a near-collision with another car. Dix stops, gets out and starts beating the other driver in an uncontrollable fit of rage. He picks up a rock and is ready to smash the young man’s head in when Laurel screams, “Dix, stop, you’ll kill him!” And at that moment, they know, and we know, that was the only reason he stops.
As they drive away, Laurel holds her head in her hands, her composure is gone. They come to a stop, and Dix puts his arm around her neck. Far from comforting, it seems chillingly reminiscent of his recreation of the murder scene with his policeman friend, Brub and his wife, Sylvia.
“I’ll take that cigarette now,” he says, and he offers her one as well. This time it is Laurel who refuses. “I’ve been in a hundred fights like this one,” he tells Laurel, asking her to drive. In this moment we see her in control not only of the car, but the future of the relationship. And then, in a touching, but heartbreaking scene, Dix shares some of his latest writing:
“I was born when she kissed me. I died when she left me. I lived for a few weeks while she loved me,” he recites. “Like it?” he says, and asks her to repeat it.
Laurel tries, but is unable to speak the last line. He says he wants to use it in the script, but doesn’t know where. She suggests “a farewell note.” We know that this love will not last. Dix has already written the end of the story.
Laurel finally does repeat the last line of Dix’s poem at the very end of the film, as Dix walks away, she watches him and whispers, “I lived for a few weeks while you loved me. Goodbye, Dix.” And, still he does not hear her speaking these heartbreaking words – the final line in the film.
As much as In a Lonely Place is Bogart’s film, it is clearly Gloria Grahame’s as well. Grahame’s Laurel is worldly, and while looking out for herself, she clearly wants to believe in true love. One key icon of American film noir is, of course, the femme fatale, a symbol of fatal attraction and moral corruption. The image of the sexually attractive, strong woman represents danger in noir. But, although Grahame’s character coolly embodies these characteristics, she is not a femme fatale in this film. Laurel is not the cause of Steele’s undoing. Rather, her love for him might have been his salvation. But in the end, Laurel’s character is destroyed by her love for Dix, as his love-turned-obsession brought out the worst in him. As Polan suggests at the end of his book: “Just as we might wonder where Dix will go next, we could also wonder about the woman’s future. What is love for her now? What can it mean?” (Polan p. 66.)
In a Lonely Place is a frustrated love story, a heartbreaking example in the American film noir genre. Nicholas Ray is said to have used this murder mystery to indict Hollywood and the Hollywood system, but he also made a larger statement about American society. “There’s no sacrifice too great for a chance at immortality,” states Dix Steele early in the film. Sometimes all it takes to achieve immortality is true love, and that is why this story is so tragic.
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