New York noir: 20 films that explore the big city's dark corners

John Garfield, Thomas Gomez, ‘Force of Evil’ (1948).

By Paul Parcellin

It might not come as news to you that noirs set in New York City look a lot different from the ones taking place in Los Angeles. The City of Angels is a sun bleached sprawl of low buildings between the ocean and desert. New York is a vertical jungle of high rises and red brick walk-ups, wrought iron fire escapes and wide avenues. It boxes you in with concrete, brick and glass that lets in just a few shafts of dusty light. Trains roar overhead on steel trestles with an insistent racket that drowns out the steady growl of street traffic. 

Claustrophobic and murky even in daylight, the New York of noir seems to exist in a world that has broken free of its solar orbit. It’s a place to get lost in, but not a spot where you can hide for very long — its streets are teeming with snitches who’ll give you up in a heartbeat.

Here’s a sampling of films noir with a New York accent:

Allen Baron, ‘Blast of Silence.’

“Blast of Silence” (1961) 

Hitman Frankie Bono (Allen Baron) returns to his hometown, New York, Christmas week but his visit is hardly festive - he’s there to kill another mobster. He coldly stalks his quarry, yet seeing the old neighborhood stirs up troubling memories.

“Cry of the City” (1948) 

Hardened criminal Martin Rome (Richard Conte) is awaiting surgery after taking some slugs in a shootout with police. He may hold the key to a jewel robbery and murder, for which a man is on death row. His childhood friend, police Lt. Vittorio Candella (Victor Mature), is determined to get to the bottom of it all. 

“The Dark Corner” (1946)

Art dealer Hardy Cathcart (Clifton Webb) jealously watches over his straying trophy wife Mari (Cathy Downs) and sparks a chain of events that put private eye Bradford Galt (Mark Stevens) on the spot. Galt’s gal Friday, Kathleen Stewart (Lucille Ball), provides support. 

William Challee, Bill Williams, ‘Deadline at Dawn.’

“Deadline at Dawn” (1946)

Sailor Alex Winkley (Bill Williams) and dancehall girl June Goffe (Susan Hayward) spend a long night trying to solve a murder. He woke up with a pocketful of cash he received from the victim. Now he's only got until daybreak to figure it out.

“Force of Evil” (1948)

Leo Morse (Thomas Gomez), a small timer in the numbers racket, is like a pressurized canister of hydrogen about to explode. His brother, crooked lawyer Joe (John Garfield), is the spark that sets him off. A two-fisted dramatic powerhouse.

“House of Strangers” (1949)

Banker Gino Monetti (Edward G. Robinson) is in hot water with the authorities over his questionable business practices. His son, attorney Max Monetti (Richard Conte), defends Gino in court and watches his father's back as Max's siblings scheme.

“I Walk Alone” (1948)

The hootch business is unrecognizable to Frankie Madison (Burt Lancaster) after 14 years in the jug — it's gone corporate. Frankie wants his cut, but Noll “Dink" Turner (Kirk Douglas) ain’t paying. B-list Burt and Kirk, but still hard-boiled.

Jamie Smith, ‘Killer's Kiss.’

“Killer’s Kiss” (1955)

Stanley Kubrick's sophomore effort is about a boxer (Jamie Smith), a gangster (Frank Silvera) and a taxi dancer (Irene Kane ). The script isn't rock solid, but the film's atmospheric depiction of New York's seamier side makes up for it. 

“Kiss of Death” (1947)

As delinquent psychopaths go, Tommy Udo (Richard Widmark) is the unabashed supreme leader in his field. Maniacal laugh? Got it. Unbridled cruelty to the infirm? You know it. It's a bone-rattling performance that elevates "Kiss of Death” to dizzying heights.

“The Naked City” (1948)

Veteran Det. Lt. Dan Muldoon (Barry Fitzgerald) and his green partner Det. Jimmy Halloran (Don Taylor) investigate the murder of a former model. Along the way they discover a swindler and a rash of jewel thefts that may be related to the killing.

Harry Belafonte, Ed Begley, Robert Ryan, ‘Odds Against Tomorrow.’

“Odds against Tomorrow” (1959)

Racist ex-con Earl Slater (Robert Ryan) reluctantly agrees to knock over a bank with David Burke (Ed Begley) and Johnny Ingram (Harry Belafonte), who is black. But the undercurrent of hatred threatens to scuttle Burke's flawless plan.

“Phantom Lady” (1944) 

It's a no-no to be seen in public wearing the same accessory as another. Identical chapeaus roil the waters in “Phantom Lady" (1944), a story of murder, gaslighting and fashion faux pas. The film also boasts one of noir's wildest jazz band scenes, to boot.

“Pickup on South Street” (1953)

Pickpocket Skip McCoy (Richard Widmark) inadvertently swipes microfilm from a spy ring courier. Street peddler Moe (Thelma Ritter) can help G-Men recover top-secret information after she figures out that Skip is their man. But her info ain't free.

Joan Bennett, Edward G. Robinson, ‘Scarlet Street.’

“Scarlet Street” (1945)

Naive aging artist Christopher Cross (Edward G. Robinson) is putty in the hands of two sharpies, Kitty March (Joan Bennett) and Johnny Prince (Dan Duryea). New York, Milwaukee, and Atlanta banned the film in early 1946 due to its dark plot.

“Side Street” (1949)

When you think you're stealing $200 and it turns out to be 30 grand instead, that's good news … maybe. Not so for Joe Norson (Farley Granger), who snags a bundle of loot from a mouthpiece with some very bad cohorts.

“Sorry, Wrong Number” (1948) 

Crossed wires allow Leona Stevenson (Barbara Stanwyck) to overhear talk of a murder plot. While faulty phone service can be a drag, being a target for murder is worse. And hubby Henry J. Stevenson (Burt Lancaster) has left her home alone.

Tony Curtis, Burt Lancaster, ‘Sweet Smell of Success.’

“Sweet Smell of Success” (1957)

Some would argue that "The Sweet Smell of Success" (1957) isn't noir. Balderdash! It's got the look, the feel of noir, plus it includes J. J. Hunsecker (Burt Lancaster), a ruthless gossip columnist who’s got sleazy press agent Sidney Falco (Tony Curtis) on the ropes.

“Where the Sidewalk Ends” (1950)

New York Police Det. Mark Dixon (Dana Andrews) finds that his family history can be like a noose around his neck. He violently lashes out at criminals because his father was one. Before long, that gets him into some very hot water.

“While the City Sleeps” (1956)

At the Kyne media syndicate, it's not enough to merely report the news, editors must solve a string of hideous crimes. In "While the City Sleeps" (1956), the "Lipstick Killer" terrorizes the city as the half-wit son running the news operation seems determined to fail.

Bobby Driscoll, ‘The Window.’ (1949)

“The Window” (1949)

Young Tommy Woodry (Bobby Driscoll) witnesses his neighbors kill a drunken sailor, but no one believes him. When Tommy is left home alone the murderous neighbors pay him a visit. They aim to silence him for good, and he's left to fend for himself.

'Ivy' is pure evil under shimmering gaslight

Joan Fontaine, 'Ivy' (1947). A black widow dressed in white.

By Paul Parcellin

Contains spoilers

“Ivy” (1947)

Even before the action begins we get the message that something is rotten in Edwardian London. A swelling orchestra plays a dramatic score. On screen, an ivy vine and an ornate vase are the backdrop for the opening credits. But as the segment ends the mood turns dark. The orchestra drops into deep ominous tones and the vase morphs into the faint image of a human skull. The message is abundantly clear: brace yourself for a horror show. 

Similarly, Ivy Lexton (Joan Fontaine) seems pleasant enough at first glance, but when her true character is revealed our first impressions of her implode. She’s not forthcoming about herself, but a fortune teller she visits knows the score. The seer gives her the good news but can’t bring herself to reveal the bad. And as we’ll see, things will be very good, then very bad.

Behind Ivy’s genteel appearance her conniving mind is working overtime. She’s after the stuff femmes fatale yearn for: money, luxury and status. Beneath her upper crust manners and good breeding she’s a cold, calculating predator. Her love of riches, glittering gowns, oversized hats and jeweled handbags drive her to use ruthless tactics on those around her — materialism gone mad, you might say. 

Fontaine, Richard Ney. Ivy tends to her bedridden husband.

By all appearances she’s blissfully wed to Jervis Lexton (Richard Ney), although Jervis drops hints that she’s nearly spent them into the poorhouse. He seems to accept her foibles with mildly exasperated resignation. But the more we learn about them the worse the picture gets. As the fortune teller revealed, she’s got another man on the side, physician Roger Gretorex (Patric Knowle), and she’s sniffing around for yet another, a wealthy and dashing aviation entrepreneur, Miles Rushworth (Herbert Marshall), whom she’s dying to sink her teeth into. 

Due to her profligate spending, she and hubby reside in a dingy hovel that looks barely one step above an almshouse. After meeting Rushworth at a social gathering she charms the aviation man into granting hubby a decent job at his company. They move into more suitable quarters, a stark white apartment, the stunning creation of art director Richard H. Riedel and producer William Cameron Menzies [Menzies won a special Academy Award for his production design of “Gone With the Wind” (1939)]. The place is surreally impersonal and spooky, with its white festoon architectural ornaments (they look like icy funeral wreaths). Ivy resolves to get rid of her spouse and paramour and throw herself at Miles, who’s too principled to carry on with a married woman. She figures out a way to ditch both inconvenient men in her life in a cold heartedly conceived twofer. 

Ivy prepares a brandy for her husband.

For a while she maintains her false front and almost no one sees through it. But that changes thanks to Roger’s overbearing mother, Mrs. Gretorex (Lucile Watson), an observant maid, Martha Huntley (Sara Allgood), and a seen-it-all-before police officer, Inspector Orpington (Cedric Hardwicke). 

Frequent Hitchcock collaborator Charles Bennett [“The 39 Steps” (1935) and “Foreign Correspondent” (1940)] wrote the screenplay based on the novel “The Story of Ivy” (1927) by Marie Belloc Lowndes. Sam Wood, whose credits include such diverse films as “Goodbye, Mr. Chips” (1939) and “A Night at the Opera” (1935), helmed this production. 

Fontaine's competitive sister, Olivia de Havilland, was originally set to play the title role, but at the last minute pulled out. She was concerned that audiences would stay away from the film due to the unsympathetic nature of the lead character. She also worried that the role would be a career killer. The sisters were feuding and de Havilland’s agent offered the role to Fontaine — an act of retribution? Fontaine gladly accepted. It turned out that de Havilland’s instincts were correct and the film was not a commercial success. Never mind, “Ivy” is still a cracking good noir featuring a luminous Joan Fontaine performance, an absorbing story and arresting scenic design. 

U.K’s Powerhouse Films is scheduled to release “Ivy” in a limited edition Blu-ray disc Feb. 16, 2026. It’s a high definition remaster with original mono audio featuring audio commentary with academic and film curator Eloise Ross. Now the bad news: many Powerhouse releases, including this one, are Region B discs and won’t play on most U.S. Blu-ray devices. But if you’re in Europe, Africa, the Middle East, Australia or New Zealand, or have a Region B or region-free player, you’re in luck. However, an Australian region-free Blu-ray (Imprint Films) was released in April, 2025, and can be purchased on Amazon and eBay.  

 

Live it up! 11 essential nightclubs of noir

Karen Morley, 'Scarface' (1932).

By Paul Parcellin

In noir, nightclubs are smokey hideaways where criminality thrives under moody lighting. Ritzier than typical barrooms, they are havens for hedonists and the racketeer elite. 

Crucial to these nightspots are floorshows. A chanteuse may whisper a torch song designed to torment an ex-lover sitting ringside. Her words spell out jagged details of his predicament, defining his emotional state or perhaps the moral decay that engulfs him. 

In noir, entering a nightclub is like stepping into hell’s waiting room. It may be steamy and dazzling at first, but all exits lead to damnation. 

Here are the top 11 nightclubs of noir, hot spots where the underworld cools its heels and lives are sometimes broken: 

Osgood Perkins, Paul Muni, Karen Morley, 'Scarface.'

‘Scarface’ (1932)

The Paradise is everything a swank gangster nightclub should be: an orchestra wails swing jazz numbers, swell looking couples fill the dance floor, guys are clad in their formal best, ladies sway to the rhythm in chic evening dresses. Wiseguys Johnny Lovo (Osgood Perkins) and Tony Camonte (Paul Muni) spar over glamor girl Poppy (Karen Morley) — Tony, an upstart, comes out on the winning end, but egos are bruised. “Scarface” wasn’t the first crime movie to use a nightclub setting, but it sure knows how glamorize the seductive charm of such establishments. Without warning, shots are fired, a gunman is subdued, the orchestra plays on and patrons carry on unruffled. How gangster can you get?

Roger Duchesne, 'Bob le Flambeur.'

‘Bob le Flambeur’ (1956) (‘Bob the Gambler’)

Bob Montagné (Roger Duchesne) is a former bank robber earning his keep at all night poker matches and other games of chance. A suave sophisticate, he’s respected as a prince among thieves. No one can cross a cafe floor and command the respect Bob receives from fellow larcenists, gamblers and even the police. His nightclub of choice is Jour et Nuit (Day and Night), but he’s a creature of the latter. Sleeping when the sun rises, he only comes alive when the lights of Montmartre twinkle at dusk. Parisian cafes, bars and nightclubs are his domain. When his luck turns bad he looks for alternative means to pay his debts. That one last big score is the thing that tempts graying outlaws, even retired ones, and Bob is no exception. 

Frank Bigelow (Edmond O'Brien) puffs on a cigarette
at the Fisherman. 'D.O.A.' (1949)

‘D.O.A.’ (1949)

 Calling San Francisco dive bar the Fisherman a “nightclub” is stretching the definition of the term until it screams. But the F’man’s got a stomping jazz sextet that cannot be denied a mention here. The joint’s a beatnik hangout where straight-arrow accountant Frank Bigelow (Edmond O’Brien) wanders in and sips a beverage that changes his life forever. The place is a seething mass of hipsters grooving to the bebop beat as the band blows a frenzied set that sends the bohemian crowd into orbit. The atmosphere is claustrophobic and the scene teeters on chaos, much like Frank’s immediate future.

Edward G. Robinson, 'Little Caesar.'

‘Little Caesar’ (1931) 

The hoods hang out upstairs at Club Palermo, a gangster stronghold in the big city. Stickup man Caesar Enrico “Rico” Bandello (Edward G. Robinson) pokes his beak in to talk with crime boss Sam Vettori (Stanley Fields), who runs the club and uses it as a front for his illegal operations. Rico passes muster and is immediately introduced to the rest of the gang. Besides being an entertainment spot for the corrupt, the club becomes the incubator that helps Rico launch his criminal career. At the club downstairs he eventually commits a brazen and violent act in public that shakes up the city’s mobster elite and catapults him to the top of the syndicate.  

Cathy Rosier, Alain Delon, François Périer, 'Le Samouraï.'

‘Le Samouraï’ (1967)

Martey's, an upscale Parisian jazz lounge, attracts a more refined crowds than do other nightspots mentioned here. But criminals operating behind the scenes are a continuous presence there. Hired killer Jef Costello (Alain Delon) visits the establishment to carry out some business for an employer. He isn’t the kind of assassin you’d expect him to be. Jef lives the austere life of a Buddhist monk and adheres to the code of the samurai. He’s an outsider among criminals in this nocturnal playground. Vocalist and keyboard player Valérie (Cathy Rosier), who performs at the club, witnesses something she wasn’t meant to see, and Jef soon finds that he’s the one being hunted.

Richard Widmark, Mike Mazurki, 'Night and the City.'

‘Night and the City’ (1950)

The Silver Fox nightclub sits among the cheap clip joints of London’s Soho district. It’s where low rent hustler Harry Fabian (Richard Widmark) hangs out, ever on the lookout for a fast buck or a get rich quick scheme. Harry uses his gift for gab to pry loose greenbacks from the unwary, especially his lady friend. He’s in his element at the Silver Fox, a place where bar girls fleece tipsy customers, sweet talking them into buying overpriced champagne and chocolates. Everyone there is either a crook or a victim. Beneath his bravado, Harry fears he’ll ultimately be one of the latter. When he schemes to become a professional wrestling promotor things don’t go his way. Unfortunately for him, he’s burned too many bridges to get a free pass this time.

Humphrey Bogart, Lauren Bacall, 'The Big Sleep.'

‘The Big Sleep’ (1946)

Crime kingpin Eddie Mars’s Cypress Club plays host to the denizens of a dark side. In it, illegal gambling is the main attraction and all things illicit are for sale. In between crooning pop tunes for the punters, rich girl Vivian Sternwood (Lauren Bacall) tries her luck in the casino. When she pockets a thick wad of cash at the roulette wheel she nearly gets robbed, but private dick Philip Marlowe (Humphrey Bogart) steps in and saves her bacon. Their liaison leads to a well remembered steamy conversation of double entendres involving race horses and jockeys. The Cypress is not the kind of place where Vivian or her younger sister, Carmen (Martha Vickers), should frequent, but these girls do love trouble.

Richard Widmark, Ida Lupino, 'Road House.'

‘Road House’ (1948)

Jefty's Road House isn’t a swank, big city club. It’s a backwater joint with a bowling alley. A love triangle with Chicago songstress Lily Stevens (Ida Lupino), club owner Jefty Robbins (Richard Widmark) and club manager Pete Morgan (Cornel Wilde) sets the drama in motion. In one of its best scenes, Ida Lupino makes a lukewarm crowd sit up, take notice and applaud when she sings “One for My Baby (and One More for the Road).” She isn’t a trained vocalist, and her two-pack-a-day voice radiates a world-weary sense of dissatisfaction, which is what makes the scene work. It’s all about heartache and raw emotions and she’s got a hell of a story to tell.

Raymond Burr, 'The Blue Gardenia.'

‘The Blue Gardenia’ (1953)

Loneliness seems to float in the air like clouds of cigarette smoke as Nat King Cole warbles the film’s title song in the softly-lit Blue Gardenia club, a South Seas-themed watering hole. It’s a romantic setting, but one couple is having a difficult time of it. Calendar artist Harry Prebble (Raymond Burr) plies Norah Larkin (Anne Baxter) with cocktails. Norah hesitates to imbibe, but Harry is insistent. The music and atmosphere reflect the isolation Norah feels, and the club resonates her emotional distress. Matters get worse when a dark crime is committed and a memory blackout obscures the events of the previous evening.

Magali Noël, 'Rififi.'

‘Rififi’ (1955)

L’age d’Or (The Golden Age) is an ironically appropriate name for the nightclub of choice for a band of French jewel thieves who are casing out a stronghold of precious stones. Aging gangster Tony "le Stéphanois" (Jean Servais) is persuaded by his buddies to help rob an exclusive jewelry dealer. Tony wants to go for a bigger score than just the ice in the store window: their target switches to the retailer’s highly secure vault. It’s a flawless plan, or so they think, but relationships with women in their lives complicate matters. Viviane (Magali Noël), a chanteuse at the club, performs the film’s memorable title song, describing the plight of a woman in a relationship with a roughneck gangster. She ought to know — her beau is in on the heist.

Rita Hayworth, Glenn Ford, 'Gilda.'

‘Gilda’ (1946)

Rita Hayworth’s iconic hair toss helps make her vocal rendition of “Put the Blame on Mame” sizzle in what is perhaps the greatest noir nightclub moment of all time. She’s voluptuous, self assured and more than a bit dangerous. The scene is packed with drama as Johnny Farrell (Glen Ford) looks on with fury and ringsiders scramble for the gloves and necklace she tosses their way. Make no mistake, she weaponizes her performance in a psychological battle with Johnny and her husband, Ballin Mundson (George Macready). When she asks the gentlemen in the house to help undo the back of her black strapless gown she may as well be lighting the fuse on a powder keg.