Pulp Into Pictures: 21 Cornell Woolrich Stories That Made It To the Big Screen; Plus “Never Open That Door”

Ángel Magana in "Never Open That Door" (1952).

Bedarkened, beshadowed Argentinian film noir

treated to a stunning restoration, disc release  

By Paul Parcellin

“Never Open That Door” (1952) Blu-ray and DVD, Flicker Alley (158 minutes) 

A lot of movies never quite get author Cornell Woolrich’s tone right, especially the films made in Hollywood. Their forced upbeat endings just don’t do justice to the pitch black darkness of his novels and short stories.

That’s not the case with the Argentinian produced “Never Open That Door,” a two part adaptation of two Woolrich stories. A beautifully restored Blu-ray and DVD edition of the film was released in June 2024.

Part One, "Someone is on the Phone,” is the story of a man trying to help his sister resolve her gambling debts and get rid of a blackmailer. He takes action, and as is often the case in Woolrich’s universe, misreads the signals, resulting in a tragic outcome.

In Part Two, “The Hummingbird Comes Home,” a blind woman living with her niece is visited by her son, who has been serving a prison sentence. The woman holds out hope that he’s still dedicated to her although all signs point in the opposite direction. 

Both stories pull no punches and end in darkness that’s true to Woolrich’s texts. 

A third part, “If I Should Die Before I Wake” is also included in the disc. It was originally intended to round out a trilogy, but was cut from the lineup and fleshed out into a single, stand-alone feature film. In it, a boy knows that a serial killer is preying on his classmates but can’t get anyone to listen to him, even his police inspector father.

Themes that run through all three are loyalty, honor and duty. In each of the trio a deep abiding sense of dedication to ones ideals leads to tragic outcomes. The brother who avenges his sister’s suicide in "Someone is on the Phone” is overbearing and hot tempered. His brand of loyalty masks his need to dominate and control his younger sibling. As the story begins we assume that he’s a jealous husband looking after his straying wife. That they are siblings comes as a revelation and hints at the man’s deeply repressed incestuous impulses. His need to get even with an anonymous third party speaks more of the need to sure up his bruised ego and his family’s honor, and less of finding justice for his sister. 

The blind woman in “The Hummingbird Comes Home” is unprepared for the man her son has become when he returns home, the police on his tail. Despite his insensitive behavior toward her, she clings to the hope that he’s still a good boy, until he proves her wrong.

Loyalty and honor, as interpreted by the young boy in “If I Should Die Before I Wake,” is put to the test. He promises to not breathe a word to anyone about the nice man who gives free candy and colorful sticks of chalk to little girls. Like the protagonists in the other two stories, he is, at first, unable to comprehend the hell that results when blind devotion to ideals, family and friends opens the door to evil.

Directed by Carlos Hugo Christensen, the film was preserved by the Film Noir Foundation in 2013 and stunningly restored through UCLA Film & Television Archive.  

Here are some of the films adapted from Cornell Woolrich’s short stories and novels. A number of them were written under one of his pseudonyms, William Irish:

Kevin McCarthy, Gage Clarke, "Nightmare."

“Nightmare” (1956). Based on a novel of the same title. A musician dreams he killed a man, then awakens to find evidence linking him to his imagined crime. His brother-in-law, a police detective, doesn’t believe the story. With Edward G. Robinson, Kevin McCarthy and Connie Russell. 

“Obsession” (1954). Based on the short story "Silent as the Grave" (as William Irish).  A circus trapeze artist is injured and is replaced by the performer’s former partner. The replacement is murdered and another man is accused of the crime. But some suspect the trapeze artist is to blame. With Michèle Morgan and Raf Vallone. 

“Rear Window” (1954) based on the story “It Had to Be Murder.” A recuperating news photographer watches his neighbors as his leg heals. Odd things occur in one apartment. It looks a lot like murder. With James Stewart, Grace Kelly and Raymond Burr. 




“Never Open That Door” (1952). Based on the stories “Somebody on the Phone” and “Humming Bird Comes Home” (as William Irish). In the first segment a man tries to avenge the death of his sister, who commits suicide over gambling debts. In the second, A former inmate returns home where he is expected by his blind mother, who believes he has reformed. With Ángel Magaña, Renée Dumas, Roberto Escalada and Ilde Pirovano. 

Néstor Zavarce, "If I Should Die Before I Wake."

“If I Should Die Before I Wake” (1952), based on a story with the same title (as William Irish). A young boy’s dad is a policeman investigating serial killings of local children. The boy befriends  a girl who tells him of a man who gives her free lollipops. She makes the boy vow never to tell anyone. With Néstor Zavarce, Blanca del Prado, Floren Delbene. 




“No Man of Her Own” (1950). Based on the novel “I Married a Dead Man” (as William Irish). A pregnant woman takes on the identity of a railroad-crash victim, but her ex-husband traps her in a blackmail scheme. With Barbara Stanwyck, Lyle Bettger and John Lund. 

“The Window” (1949). Based on the story “The Boy Cried Murder” (also known as “The Boy Who Cried Wolf”). A young boy witnesses a murder but struggles to convince anyone of what he’s seen. With Bobby Driscoll, Barbara Hale and Arthur Kennedy. 

“Night Has a Thousand Eyes” (1948). Based on the novel of the same title.

A fake mind reader develops real supernatural powers, but he soon finds that his gift brings more trouble than it’s are worth. With Edward G. Robinson, John Lund and Gail Russell. 

“I Wouldn't Be in Your Shoes” (1948). Based on a story of the same title.

A tap dancer throws his shoes out the window to silence howling cats. When a neighbor turns up dead, the hoofer’s footprints are found at the crime scene. With Don Castle, Elyse Knox and Regis Toomey. 




“The Return of the Whistler” (1948). Based on the story “All at Once, No Alice.” A man's fiancée vanishes, and he hires a private detective to find her. But the case proves much more complex than he could have imagined. With Lenore Aubert and Michael Duane. 

“The Guilty” (1947). Based on the story “He Looked Like Murder.” Two roommates meet twin girls and one of the sisters gets murdered. That puts her boyfriend on the spot. With Bonita Granville and Don Castle.

Leo Penn, Teala Loring, "Fall Guy."

“Fall Guy” (1947). Based on the short story “Cocaine.” A man recalls meeting someone in a bar and going to a party. The rest is a blur. But there’s big trouble when a murdered girl’s body is discovered. With Robert Armstrong, Teala Loring and Leo Penn.

“Fear in the Night” (1946), adapted from the short story "Nightmare" (as William Irish). A musician dreams he killed a man, then finds evidence that he did commit the crime. With Kevin McCarthy and Edward G. Robinson.

“The Chase” (1946), based on the novel “The Black Path of Fear.” A down and out veteran is hired as chauffeur to a gangster, but the vet gets too involved with the his boss’s wife. With Michèle Morgan, Steve Cochran and Robert Cummings. 

Peter Lorre, "Black Angel."

"Black Angel" (1946). Based on the novel of the same title. An alcoholic pianist investigates his ex-wife's murder. With Peter Lorre, Dan Duryea, Constance Dowling and June Vincent. 

“Deadline at Dawn” (1946), based on the novel (as William Irish). A sailor and a dance-hall girl try to solve a murder. He’s got the victim’s cash and only has until daybreak to figure it all out. With Bill Williams and Susan Hayward.  

“The Mark of the Whistler” (1944), based on the radio drama “The Whistler,” (as William Irish). A drifter claims the money in a dormant bank account, but others come to claim it. With Paul Guilfoyle, John Calvert, Janis Carter, Richard Dix, and Porter Hall.

Ella Raines, Alan Curtis, "Phantom Lady."

“Phantom Lady” (1944), based on the novel “Phantom Lady” (as William Irish). A woman races against time to clear a friend wrongfully accused of murder. With Franchot Tone, Ella Raines, Aurora Miranda and Alan Curtis. 

“The Leopard Man” (1943). From the novel "Black Alibi.” A seemingly-tame leopard used for a publicity stunt escapes and kills a young girl. With Margo and Dennis O’Keefe.

“Street of Chance” (1942), Based on the novel “The Black Curtain.” A man with amnesia uncovers his involvement in a murder. With Burgess Meredith and Claire Trevor.

Rita Hayworth, Doreen MacGregor, "Convicted."

“Convicted” (1938). Based on the story “Face Work” ( as William Irish). A police detective helps a night-club singer track down a killer. The singer’s brother has been sentenced to die in the electric chair. With Rita Hayworth, Marc Lawrence and Charles Quigley.

Dark Candy in Your Stocking: 25 Christmas Noirs

Robert Montgomery, “Lady in the Lake” (1946), an odd seasonal thriller.

By Paul Parcellin

Sometimes you need relief from the hectic days that close out the year. From Thanksgiving ’til New Year’s Day we live with a sense of renewed optimism and anticipation as the new year approaches — well, some of us do, anyway. Chances are you’ll desire a break from the season of cheer, something to counter-balance the joyful spirit that the holidays demand. For that, you might take in a few films noir. 

What’s especially fitting at this time of year are dark tales with a seasonal theme, the ones that take special delight in dishing out gritty violence and bad will toward men amid the ribbons,  wreaths and mistletoe. Tinsel and colorful twinkling lights contrast brutally with noir’s undisguised onscreen malevolence, highlighting the grim corruption and heart wrenching tragedy that is modern society.

So pour yourself a slug of rye and get comfortable. Here are 25 noirs that are an antidote for this physically exhausting, stress inducing, hyper-joyous season:

Edmond O’Brien, Viveca Lindfors, “Backfire.”

“Backfire” (1950)

While recuperating from wartime back injuries, veteran Bob Corey (Gordon MacRae) is visited on Christmas Eve by a woman carrying alarming news. He hopes to go into business with a wartime buddy, but a major roadblock stands in the way.

“Beware, My Lovely” (1952)

A mentally disturbed handyman (Robert Ryan) on the run, for reasons even he doesn't understand, takes a job at the house of a lonely war widow (Ida Lupino) in 1918. The story takes place over the holiday season, and the warmth associated with Christmas sharply contrasts with the film’s dark elements. 

“Blast of Silence” (1961)

It’s the holidays, and a hired killer from Cleveland (Allen Baron) is in New York City, his hometown, to rub out a gangster. It should be a piece of cake, but his return to the old neighborhood brings on some unexpected complications.

“Cash on Demand” (1961)

A charming but ruthless criminal (André Morell) holds the family of a bank manager (Peter Cushing) hostage as part of a cold-blooded plan to steal a small fortune. The holiday setting stirs up the emotions we feel for the family being held against their will.

“Christmas Holiday” (1944)

The title suggests a light, whimsical storyline, but it’s nothing of the kind. A young woman (Deanna Durbin) realizes that the man she married (Gene Kelly) is not who she thought he was. In flashback we learn of her troubled past as she spends Christmas in New Orleans. The film explores themes of betrayal, guilt and loss.

“Cover Up” (1949)

There’s nothing like a small Midwestern town bedecked in holiday splendor to put us in the Christmas mood — but not this town. An insurance company investigator (Dennis O’Keefe) tackles a case of supposed suicide. But the locals are unhelpful and even hostile. Could this be a case of foul play?

Lawrence Tierney, Anne Jeffreys, “Dillinger.” 

“Dillinger” (1945)

Legendary bank robber John Dillinger (Lawrence Tierney) begins his life of crime as a petty thief, meets his future gang in prison and eventually masterminds a series of daring robberies. Turns out, Christmas ornaments provide an exciting, colorful backdrop for stickup men.

“Flame of the Islands” (1955)

A café singer (Yvonne De Carlo) buys a gambling casino, and a number of men fall in love with her (Howard Duff, Zachary Scott). Set in the tropics, it’s not an overtly Christmas themed flick, but the holiday provides a seasonal context. 

“I Wouldn't Be in Your Shoes” (1948)

A dancer (Don Castle) is the focus of a murder investigation after his shoe prints are found at the scene of the crime. His wife (Elyse Knox) follows the trail of clues to the genuine killer. The film’s holiday setting makes the wrongly accused man’s plight all the more tragic.

Elisha Cook Jr., “I, the Jury.” 

“I, the Jury” (1953)

Detective Mike Hammer (Biff Elliot) is determined to catch and kill the person who shot his close friend dead, so he follows clues that lead to a beautiful, seductive woman (Peggie Castle). Nothing says Christmastime quite like Mickey Spillane’s creation, the violence prone Hammer.

“In Bruges” (2008)

Christmas in Bruges, Belgium, is postcard perfect. Two hitmen (Colin Farrell and Brendan Gleeson) are sent there and told to await orders from their cold-blooded boss. When instructions finally arrive the story takes a decidedly surprising and dour turn.

“Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang” (2005)

A New York burglar (Robert Downey Jr.) does some after-hours Christmas Eve shopping in a closed toy store and nearly gets busted. He stumbles into a film audition, is mistaken for an actor and is sent to Hollywood to train under a private eye (Val Kilmer) for a potential movie role. From there, the story only gets weirder. 

“L.A. Confidential” (1997).

“L.A. Confidential” (1997)

The film opens outside a house bedecked in holiday lights and a decorative Santa and his sleigh on the roof. Inside, a man beats his wife and detective Bud White (Russell Crowe) and his partner arrive on the scene. The violence contrasts with the season of cheer and goodwill and sets the stage for a tale of corruption and routine underworld brutality in 1950s Los Angeles.

“Lady in the Lake” (1946)

Robert Montgomery directs and stars as Phillip Marlowe, who soon finds himself smack in the middle of a murder. It takes place at Christmastime and a chorus of seasonal carols offer a sardonic counterpoint to the grimmest action on the screen. Opening credits are printed on Christmas cards, to boot. It’s oddly appealing that this may be the most unChristmas-like Christmas film ever made.

“Lady on a Train” (1945)

It’s Christmastime in New York, and a woman (Deanna Durbin) who witnesses a killing seeks the aid of a crime novelist (Bruce David) to solve the murder. The film’s lighthearted holiday atmosphere starkly contrasts with the dark crime witnessed from a train window.  

John Payne, “Larceny.”

“Larceny” (1948)

The veneer of holiday cheer lingers in the background as a con man (John Payne) sets out to swindle a widow (Joan Caulfield). He aims to grab money she received to build a memorial to her war hero husband. But the swindler winds up falling in love with her instead.

“Mr. Soft Touch” (1949)

When he learns that a gangster has taken over his nightclub and murdered his partner, returning World War II hero Joe Miracle (Glenn Ford) steals the money from the club's safe and hides in a settlement home, while the mob is on his tail. Themes such as charity, goodwill and second chances are explored amid the yuletide season.

“No Man of Her Own” (1950)

A pregnant woman (Barbara Stanwyck) adopts the identity of a railroad-crash victim and starts a new life with the woman's wealthy in-laws. But her devious ex blackmails her. The Christmastime setting helps underline the woman’s longing for family stability and belonging.

Louis Hayward, Joan Leslie, “Repeat Performance.”

“Repeat Performance” (1947)

On New Year's Eve 1946, Sheila Page (Joan Leslie) kills her husband, Barney (Louis Hayward). She wishes that she could relive 1946 and avoid the mistakes that she made throughout the year. Her wish comes true but cheating fate proves more difficult than she anticipated. It’s primarily a New Year’s Eve story, but Christmas elements, such as reflection and renewal, are folded into the mix.

“The Man I Love” (1946)

A homesick, no-nonsense lounge singer (Ida Lupino) decides to leave New York City and visit her sisters and brother on the West Coast. Eventually she falls in love with a down-and-out ex-jazz pianist (Bruce Bennett). More romantic drama than a pure noir, the film’s scenes with Christmas decorations add just a touch of holiday ambiance to the story.

“The Night of the Hunter.”

“The Night of the Hunter” (1955)

A self-proclaimed preacher (Robert Mitchum) marries a gullible widow (Shelley Winters) whose young children are reluctant to tell him where their real dad hid the $10,000 he'd stolen in a robbery. Pastoral winter scenes, exploration of themes such as good and evil and children singing “Silent Night” add to the subtle Christmastime atmosphere.

“The Reckless Moment” (1949)

After discovering the dead body of her teenage daughter's lover, a housewife (Joan Bennett) takes desperate measures to protect her family from scandal. The holiday setting and themes such as family responsibility and criminal intent offer dramatic contrasts that propel the story.

“The Roaring Twenties” (1939)

After returning home from fighting together in World War I, three men (Humphrey Bogart, James Cagney, Jeffrey Lynn) try to make a killing during Prohibition. A Christmas Eve speech by one of the trio (Cagney) reflects themes of loss, regret and nostalgia. 

“The Silent Partner.” 

“The Silent Partner” (1978)

A timid bank teller (Elliott Gould) anticipates a robbery and steals the money himself before the crook arrives. When the sadistic crook (Christopher Plummer) realizes he's been duped, he tracks down the teller and chases him for the cash. Much of the action takes place in a shopping mall decorated for Christmas.

“The Story of Molly X” (1949)

After gang leader Rick is killed, his wife Molly (June Havoc) takes over his gang, but a robbery goes wrong. Molly finds herself in jail where she undergoes a personal transformation.

Although there are no direct Christmas references here, themes such as hope, forgiveness and second chances reflect the spirit of Christmas — heartwarming stuff for the holidays.

Amnesia Noir: 30 Films Worth Remembering

Alan Ladd, William Bendix, “The Blue Dahlia” (1946).

When Returning War Vets and Others
Suffer Memory Blackouts, Murder is Often Afoot

By Paul Parcellin

Total amnesia, the kind that wipes out memories like a damp sponge on a chalkboard, probably happens more often in movies and television than in real life. Rare as it may be, it’s a frequent problem in cinema — some call it the common cold of film noir. 

Movies about battle scarred GIs returning from overseas, disengaged from their past and unsure of their place in post-war society must have struck a chord with soldiers coming home from the battlefield — why else would Hollywood have told and retold that story in so many films? On a symbolic level, the amnesiac in films may have resonated with many a veteran who would have preferred to forget much of what he’d seen and heard in combat.

John Hodiak, Nancy Guild,
"Somewhere in the Night" (1946).

In the movies, those unlucky enough to suffer from extreme cases of amnesia are remarkably isolated. Unable to recollect any family ties or friends that could connect them to their past, they search for details that will flesh out their identity. They must navigate through a peacetime world fraught with dangerous characters while dodging the consequences of previous events blotted out of their memories. 

Rather than seek out familiar faces — for them, there are none — they haunt their old stomping grounds, hoping that someone will recognize them and help fill in the blanks. But that’s risky business and they’re often sitting ducks for foes posing as friends.

As a rule, the amnesiac was not an accountant, plumber or any other kind of humdrum wage slave in their pre-amnesia state. Many were involved in, or adjacent to, criminal activity. Consequently, a spate of old enemies looking to settle scores crouch in the shadows, ready to pounce. Sometimes it’s underworld figures, other times it’s the police, either of which could spell doom for the ones with no past.

Here are 30 films about returning soldiers, and civilians, too, in which crime and memory loss cross paths. Sometimes, a memory is erased by battle wounds or combat fatigue. For others, a night of heavy drinking, drugs, or a violent encounter create the same mental fog. Either way, each is lost and unable to trust anyone, including themselves:

“Beware, My Lovely” (1952)

A mentally disturbed handyman (Robert Ryan) on the run, for reasons even he doesn't understand, takes a job at the house of a lonely war widow (Ida Lupino) in 1918. He suffers from memory lapses and extreme mood swings. Soon, she’s a prisoner in her own house.

Dan Duryea, June Vincent, Peter Lorre, “Black Angel.”

“Black Angel” (1946)

Alcoholic pianist Martin Blair (Dan Duryea) is convinced that a heart-shaped brooch is a crucial clue in the investigation of his ex-wife's murder. Suspicion builds around dodgy nightclub owner Mr. Marko (Peter Lorre). But darker truths emerge.

“Blackout” (1954)

A broke American in London (Dane Clark) meets a woman (Belinda Lee) who offers to pay him for a marriage of convenience. He agrees, but awakens bloodied in a strange place, having unknowingly become entangled in her father's murder.

“The Blue Dahlia” (1946)


Ex-bomber pilot Johnny Morrison (Alan Ladd) is suspected of murdering his unfaithful wife. His shell-shocked pal, Buzz Wanchek (William Bendix), suffers memory lapses. He may or may not have committed the murder.

“The Blue Gardenia” (1953)


A telephone operator (Anne Baxter) ends up drunk and at the mercy of a cad (Raymond Burr). The next morning she wakes up with a hangover and the terrible fear she may have committed murder.

“Brott i sol” (1947)

After having spent six years in an asylum, Harry (Birger Malmsten) returns home. He soon remembers what happened six years ago. He had five of his friends over and one of them, Raoul (Curt Masreliez), was murdered. In order to find out which of them is the murderer, he invites them over to reconstruct the crime.

Jimmy Lydon, Claudia Barrett, “Chain of Evidence.”

“Chain of Evidence” (1957)

Paroled inmate Steve Nordstrom (Jimmy Lydon) is viciously assaulted, leaving him an amnesiac. He aimlessly wanders until he’s used as a patsy by an adulterous wife and her lover who aim to kill her rich husband.

“The Chase” (1946)

Chuck Scott (Robert Cummings) gets a job as chauffeur to tough guy Eddie Roman (Steve Cochran), but Chuck's involvement with Eddie's fearful wife, Lorna (Michèle Morgan), becomes a nightmare. To make matters worse, a recurring war malady causes Scott to lose his mental focus just when he needs to be at his sharpest.

Bill Williams, Frank Wilcox, “The Clay Pigeon.”

“The Clay Pigeon” (1949)

It’s quite a bringdown to awaken from a coma only to discover that you’re suspected of murder. Jim Fletcher (Bill Williams) is in a U.S. Naval hospital and about to be court marshalled for a crime he cannot remember committing. To make matters worse, everyone seems to think he’s traitorous scum.

“Crack-Up” (1946)

Art curator George Steele (Pat O’Brien) has a mental breakdown and thinks he was in a train wreck. Is he cracking up, or the victim of a wicked plot?

“Crime Doctor” (1943)

Amnesia victim Robert Ordway (Warner Baxter) becomes the country's leading criminal psychologist. After he is hit on the head by someone from his past, he suddenly remembers his previous life as a criminal.

John Payne, “The Crooked Way.”

“The Crooked Way” (1949)

Eddie Rice (John Payne) is such an upright, good natured sort that we can scarcely believe that he committed dastardly acts before the war. A chunk of shrapnel is permanently lodged in his brain and he’s suffering from amnesia. But his ex-wife, Nina Martin (Ellen Drew) and gangster Vince Alexander (Sonny Tufts), are more than willing to refresh his memory.

“Crossroads” (1942)

French diplomat David Talbot (William Powell) is blackmailed for crimes that he committed before he lost his memory. The blackmailer alleges the diplomat committed a bank robbery and murder. Talbot was long ago treated for amnesia as the result of a physical trauma.

Bill Williams, Earle Hodgins, “Deadline at Dawn.”

“Deadline at Dawn” (1946) 

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

“Derailed” (1942)

An uptown girl (Illona Wieselmann) loses her memory after getting a disturbing message from her doctor. She ends up in the wrong part of town among criminals and prostitutes. She falls in love with the tough guy (Ebbe Rode), who recently got out of prison.

“Fall Guy” (1947)

Joe Fraser (Elisha Cook Jr.) meets Tom Cochrane (Leo Penn) at a bar, seemingly by accident, and brings him to a party filled with seedy characters and drugs. Before the evening’s out a sexy blonde slips Tom a Mickey. He awakens on the sidewalk, stained with blood, a bloody knife by his side. He has no memory of what went on the previous evening but vaguely remembers finding the body of a murdered girl stuffed in the closet.

“Fear in the Night” (1947)

Bank teller Vince Grayson (DeForest Kelley) dreams of murdering a man in a room full of mirrors. He investigates and finds that there's ample evidence that he did commit murder. But there may be a shadowy figure lurking behind the scenes. 

“Female Fiends” (1958) (a.k.a. “The Strange Awakening”)

Peter Chance (Lex Barker), is attacked by a hitchhiker he picked up and is left unconscious. He awakens in a strange room with no memory. The homeowner, Selena Friend (Carole Mathews), tells him he is her son and is heir to millions.

“Hangover Square” (1945)

Composer George Harvey Bone (Laird Cregar) is under stress, which causes him to blackout whenever he hears dissonances. Strange gaps in his memory are troubling signs, especially after a murder occurs.

“High Wall” (1947)

After a brain-damaged war veteran Steven Kenet (Robert Taylor) confesses to murdering his wife and is sent to a psychiatric hospital, Dr. Ann Lorrison (Audrey Totter) tries to lead him to recover his memory of events as he begins to question his guilt.

“Key Witness” (1947)

With his wife out of town, unsuccessful inventor Milton Higby (John Beal) parties with a friend and two girls they meet. When he awakens from a drunken stupor, he finds the girl he was with has been shot and killed, and he is suspected of the murder.

Anthony Quinn, “The Long Wait.”

“The Long Wait” (1954)

Hitchhiker Johnny McBride (Anthony Quinn) is badly hurt and loses his memory when the car he’s riding in crashes. Two years later, a clue leads him to his old home town, where he finds he is a murder suspect. Johnny tries to discover the truth about the murder, while pursued by gangsters and several seductive women.

“Man in the Dark” (1953) 

Unlucky Steve (Edmond O'Brien), a convicted felon, is released from prison after undergoing an experimental procedure that erases from his brain all criminal impulses — the side effect being permanent memory loss. 

“Murder on Monday” (1952)

Banker David Preston (Ralph Richardson) goes missing for 24 hours and has no memory of the lost time. When he learns that the steward of his local club has implicated him in a robbery and has been found murdered, Preston has no alibi.

Hildegard Knef, Gary Merrill, “Night Without Sleep.”

“Night Without Sleep” (1952)

Awaking one morning after a night of hard drinking, composer Richard Morton (Gary Merrill) can't shake the feeling he has murdered a woman during the night.

“Nightmare” (1956)

New Orleans clarinetist Stan Grayson (Kevin McCarthy) dreams he committed a murder. He recalls from his dream a mirrored room with many doors, and a murder committed with an ice pick. Based on a Cornell Woolrich novel, “And So To Death.”

“Somewhere in the Night” (1946)

George Taylor (John Hodiak) awakens in a military hospital, and to his horror discovers that his memory has been wiped clean by a serious wound he received in the war. He embarks on a mission, believing he may fill the black holes that have replaced his memories. He searches for leads but all he’s got is a letter from a man he doesn’t know, the mysterious Larry Cravat.

Burgess Meredith, “Street of Chance.”

“Street of Chance” (1942)

Frank Thompson (Burgess Meredith) awakens to find that he's lost his memory. He slowly puts the pieces of his life together and discovers that he has a second identity, and that he's been accused of a murder that he can't remember committing. Based on the Cornell Woolrich novel “The Black Curtain”

“Violence” (1947)

Undercover reporter Ann Mason (Nancy Coleman) infiltrates a neo-fascist group that recruits disgruntled veterans, but amnesia prevents her from exposing them.

“Voice in the Wind” (1944)

Concert pianist Jan Volny (Francis Lederer) lost his memory after being tortured by the Nazis during the war. He journeys to the island of Guadeloupe to try to regain his memory and his health. Meanwhile, smugglers Angelo (Alexander Granach) and Luigi (J. Carrol Naish) blame Jan for setting fire to their boat.

'The Killers': Nagging Questions In a Haze of Gunsmoke

Left, Burt Lancaster, “The Killers” (1946).
Right, Lee Marvin, “The Killers” (1964).

In both versions, sports heroes have tragic downfalls and alluring women enter the picture to offer a helping hand — it doesn’t turn out well for the wounded competitors

By Paul Parcellin

“The Killers” (1946) Robert Siodmak (director) — “The Killers” (1964) Don Siegel (director), The Criterion Collection, [Blu-ray]

Why on earth would a man facing the barrel of a gun fail to run away or at least try to evade death? That’s one question raised in both the 1946 version of “The Killers” and the 1964 film of the same title, both adapted from an Ernest Hemingway short story. 

But the main puzzle, the one that drives the action, is who’s in possession of the cash that was swiped in a brazen holdup? 

Criterion’s release offers both versions on a single disc that demands a comparison of the two.

Charles McGraw, William Conrad, Harry Hayden, "The Killers" (1946).

In director Robert Siodmak’s 1946 film, insurance investigator Jim Reardon (Edmond O’Brien) seeks the beneficiary of former prizefighter Ole “Swede” Anderson’s (Burt Lancaster) life insurance policy. The Swede went down for the final count in a shabby rooming house when two gunmen burst in and opened fire. 

Reardon finds the woman who is to receive the policy payout, but in doing so discovers that the Swede lived a complex life. The ex-pugilist fell on hard times and was involved in a heist that netted a big pile of cash that’s still missing. Reardon decides to find and retrieve the loot for the insurance company and get to the bottom of the Swede’s mysterious death.

John Cassavetes

In Don Siegel’s 1964 film, the search is on for the proceeds from another big robbery, but this time the ones doing the investigation are hitmen Charlie Strom (Lee Marvin) and his partner in crime, Lee (Clu Gulager). The duo murder former race car driver Johnny North (John Cassavetes), and are determined to recover loot from a heist that North took part in. Charlie is focused on recovering the money, but he’s also bothered by a question — why did North not try to save himself when the hitmen came calling?

Both victims have the makings of one kind of Hemingway hero, skilled competitors in macho professional sports, and each with a dark side. Lancaster’s Swede sees his prizefighting career fade away as he breaks his right hand in a bout that turns out to be his last match. Cassavetes’s Johnny, the headstrong race car driver, pushes his luck and damages his eyesight in a wreck, leaving him unable to compete. Both he and Swede feel diminished and their excessive pride takes a beating.

Angie Dickinson

Before meeting their unfortunate comedowns, each is smitten with a dangerous girl who’s apparently cozy with a powerful crime boss. After their accidents, they struggle to maintain a hold on their respective aggressively material girls. No longer the cocky, virile competitors they once were, both has-beens struggle for the woman’s love and admiration to revitalize their lives. They remind us a bit of Hemingway’s Jake Barnes in “The Sun Also Rises,” who is left impotent by a wound received in the Great War.

The ladies, Kitty Collins (Ava Gardner), Swede’s love interest, and motorsports groupie Sheila Farr (Angie Dickinson), reel them in and then offer to connect them with some pals who are plotting a big score. Both guys can’t resist the opportunity to win their respective girl by grabbing a pile of loot and showering her with minks and diamonds — or so they think.

The story takes a number of twists as the two fallen heroes submerge into the criminal world. In short, they’re two prideful tough guys eventually broken by femmes fatale. Neither one catches on to the cold truth that the deck is stacked against them until it’s much too late.

Ava Gardner

Anthony Veiller, who adapted Hemingway’s story for Siodmak’s film, also co-wrote “The Stranger” (1946) and was an uncredited collaborator with John Huston and Truman Capote on the screenplay for “Beat the Devil” (1953). His version of the story is structured like “Citizen Kane” (1941), with Reardon chasing down clues and interviewing people who knew Swede. The bulk of the story is told in flashbacks as those closest to the deceased man recount their dealings with him. 

In contrast, Siegel’s film proceeds in a more linear fashion with a minimum of flashbacks. For the most part, the story simply follows Charlie and Lee as they chase after a pile of cash and, in true Lee Marvin fashion, wreak havoc on anyone who tries to stop them. The opening sequence is a corker. The two killers track down Johnny in a school for the blind where he teaches auto mechanics and take him out in a roomful of unsighted witnesses.

While both films have similar plots, their look could hardly be more different.

Edmond O’Brien, Sam Levene, “The Killers” (1946).

Veteran cinematographer Elwood “Woody” Bredell photographed Siodmak’s moody black and white noir. His rock-solid crime film credits also include “Phantom Lady” (1944), “Lady on a Train” (1945) and “The Unsuspected” (1947).

Because Siegel’s film was created for TV, Richard L. Rawlings, a cinematographer with extensive television credits was chosen to shoot it, and on the surface it’s as un-noir-like as a film can get. Like most other TV shows of that era, scenes are bombarded with bright light and nary a shadow is in sight. Each shot pops with saturated color — producers felt that TV shows needed to be visually vibrant to compete with household distractions.

Ronald Reagan's last film role
"The Killers" (1964)

That strategy didn’t pay off as expected. Broadcast executives wanted no part of the film’s violent onscreen action. Siegel shopped it around for a while, then decided to release it theatrically. It was not a major box office hit, but stylistically it was influential. Siegel later directed “Dirty Harry” (1971), and “The Killers” helped set the tone for that mega-successful Clint Eastwood film as well as many others throughout the coming decades. 

Oddly enough, Siegel was initially tapped to direct the 1947 version of the film, but studio higher ups put the kibosh on that, citing the young director’s lack of experience. Instead, Siodmak, a veteran behind the camera, was chosen. 

Siegel’s film is perhaps his vengeance for that disappointing incident years before, as he finally caught up with the one that got away.

Like Siegel, hitman Charley Strom finds that patience pays off. Eventually he discovers the answer to his question about Johnny’s meek acceptance of his fate. Nick Adams (Phil Brown), Swede’s young co-worker and friend is left to ponder the same question. When Nick goes to warn him that his life is in peril, Swede doesn’t explain his downfall, but tells him, “I did something wrong, once.” It’s a puzzle that remains an open ended question, but eventually we see the reasons for Swede’s powerlessness to resist the gunmen. He’s been reduced to a shell of himself and death is inevitable — a sad fate for a wounded hero whose life takes a tragically wrong turn.

The Criterion disc features new high-definition digital restorations of both films, plus extras such as a 2002 interview with Clu Gulager, an audio excerpt from Don Siegel's autobiography, “A Siegel Film,” Screen Directors Playhouse radio adaptation from 1949 of the 1946 film, starring Burt Lancaster and Shelley Winters as well as essays by novelist Jonathan Lethem and critic Geoffrey O’Brien. It’s a feature-packed disc that noir fans ought to add to their libraries.

Busted But Not Broken: Greylisted Actor Made Indy Noirs

Virginia Christine, Edward G. Robinson, “Nightmare” (1956).

Edward G. Robinson's testimony before the House Un-American Activities Committee (HUAC) resulted in his being shunned by the major studios. Instead, he appeared in independently produced Poverty Row films

Film Noir: The Dark Side of Cinema XVII [Vice Squad / Black Tuesday / Nightmare] [Blu-ray]

By Paul Parcellin

He’s no matinee idol, but when Edward G. Robinson is on screen we can’t take our eyes off of him. Short in stature and chunky with a bulldog face, it’s hard to explain his magnetism. He’s got that special quality that makes great character actors, and few can rival him for sheer screen presence. Try to imagine “Double Indemnity” without Robinson’s cranky insurance adjustor Barton Keyes, or “Little Caesar” minus his Napoleonic crime boss Caesar Enrico Bandello. Unthinkable.

Robinson’s command of his craft is evident in the three-disc Blu-ray box set from Kino Lorber, “Film Noir: The Dark Side of Cinema XVII,” released just this year. In these films, Robinson plays dramatically different characters effortlessly, or at least makes it seem that way. 

In the many roles he played throughout his career he embodied the characters he portrayed, giving them distinct, memorable personalities, from meek Christopher Cross in “Scarlet Street” (1945) to conniving bully of a crime boss Johnny Rocco in “Key Largo” (1948).

This box set’s trio of films are modestly budgeted crime thrillers, unlike the bigger films he’d made before and during the war. These early to mid 1950s films were made after he was obliged to testify before the House Committee on Un-American Activities (HUAC). The committee was established to root out the alleged communist infiltration of society and the Hollywood film industry in particular. 

In his testimony, Robinson named some of his peers who were associated with the Communist Party. He admitted that he, too, was briefly associated with the party, but claimed that he was duped into participating. His testimony got him greylisted as opposed to blacklisted. The blacklist banned actors from making films in Hollywood. Major studios wished to avoid negative publicity, so they wouldn't hire the greylisted Robinson, either. But he found he could act in theater and make films with the much smaller Poverty Row studios. 

The films listed below were made while Robinson was still under greylist restrictions. Later in the decade he was able to regain his standing and work with the major studios again.

Robinson as Police Capt. “Barnie” Barnaby in “Vice Squad.”

“Vice Squad” (1953) — 88 minutes

There’s relatively little vice in “Vice Squad” despite the title, and it’s not really a noir. It’s more a police procedural, heist movie and tale of suspense all wrapped into one.

Police Capt. “Barnie” Barnaby (Edward G. Robinson) is hardly Dirty Harry, but he isn’t above using blackmail, entrapment, false arrest and unethical if not illegal searches for the greater good. Tactics that would never be tolerated today seem routine in this 1950s crime drama. 

Barnaby’s more controversial tactics are leavened with humor. The running gag is the arrest and rearrest of dour-faced “undertaker” Jack Hartrampf (Porter Hall). Hartrampf witnesses the murder of a police officer as he’s leaving his mistress’s apartment, so he dummies up lest his name get into the newspapers. Barnaby uses some creative arm twisting, including blackmail, to get the undertaker to spill what he knows. But, Robinson’s avuncular police captain makes it all seem rather harmless, unavoidable and clever.

Barnaby isn’t a hardened, cynical law man, but rather an optimist and a realist who seems to enjoy his work. He tells us he hopes for the best, but realizes that he’s in a position that tends to bring out the worst in everyone.

Paulette Goddard as Mona Ross.

His department always buzzes with activity and several different stories unfold as police search for the murderer. One involves an Italian count who might be a con artist, and another entails an informant’s hot tip about a bank robbery plot. There’s the occasional lineup of petty criminals, and odd characters pop in, such as Mr. Jenner (Percy Helton), who complains about the “shadows that get all over me whenever I walk down the street.” Ever the public servant, Barnaby gives everyone a fair hearing regardless of the plausibility of their story or their grip on reality.

In addition to the highly recognizable Percy Helton, a number of popular character actors fill the cast, including Lee Van Cleef, Barry Kelley, Adam Williams and Edward Binns. Co-star Paulette Goddard plays Mona, a madame who operates an escort service and feeds Barnaby tips on criminal activities. She’s allowed to operate her business on the wrong side of the tracks so long as she provides useful information. It’s just another relationship of many that skirts the edge of ethical propriety, but that’s the way things go in Barnaby’s world.

Robinson as gangster Vincent Canelli in “Black Tuesday.” 

“Black Tuesday” (1954) — 80 minutes

Crime bosses don’t come much meaner than Vince Canelli (Robinson), a gangster who snarls when he speaks. Robinson’s role is close to a reprise of his Johnny Rocco in “Key Largo,” yet, Vince is even less charming and perhaps more evil than Johnny, if that’s possible. Both films have criminals and hostages trapped in buildings with Robinson running the show and barking orders.

Vince has precious little regard for human life other than his own and that of his lady friend, Hattie (Jean Parker). We don’t see how much he really cares for her until the film’s final moments. For a few fleeting seconds we can empathize with the otherwise detestable Vince, but that wears off quickly.

Besides Hattie, everyone else around him is a useful cog in his machine and nothing else. His talent is making cohorts believe that he’ll give them a square deal, but anyone loyal to Vince pays a price for his or her misplaced allegiance.

As the film opens, Vince and his partner in crime, Peter Manning (Peter Graves), along with other condemned inmates, await execution on death row. The film is essentially a two-parter: a prison breakout and then a last stand in a warehouse with escapees and their hostages. The escape is absurdly well planned and executed, highly improbable and fun to watch.

Peter Graves as Peter Manning.

Manning has stashed away loot from a robbery he and Vince committed, in the process of which they killed a police officer. That’s what put them on death row. Manning is keeping his trap shut about the whereabouts of the cash because he knows better than to put his faith in Vince. As their time in captivity ticks by, the hostages learn the hard way that trusting the crime boss is risky at best. Among the detainees are a news reporter, a prison guard’s daughter and a clergyman.

Hattie complains to Vince, “Shouldn’t have brought the priest. Bad luck.” 

“For him,” Vince mutters.

Stunning black and white photography by Stanley Cortez anchors the film to the shadowy domain of noir and makes dramatic use of rather limited sets. Cortez also shot “The Night of the Hunter” (1955) and “The Magnificent Ambersons” (1942).

Eventually, the outside world intervenes and pressure builds, bringing the film to a stormy conclusion.

Kevin McCarthy in “Nightmare.”

“Nightmare” (1956) — 89 minutes

Crimes committed under the influence of hypnotism, alcohol and narcotics are the backbone of many a noir tale, especially in Cornell Woolrich’s dark fiction oeuvre. In “Nightmare,” based on a novel “And So To Death” by Woolrich, New Orleans clarinetist Stan Grayson (Kevin McCarthy) dreams he committed a murder. 

Woolrich’s novel was previously adapted into the film “Fear in the Night” (1947) starring DeForest Kelley, and that film as well as “Nightmare” were written and directed by Maxwell Shane.

As we witness his nightmare, waves of fog waft across the screen, a wailing orchestra plays a dramatic score before the action cuts to Stan jarred awake in his bedroom, clutching evidence from the scene of the imaginary crime. 

He recalls from his dream a mirrored room with lots of doors, and a murder committed with an ice pick.

He discovers thumb prints on his throat as he staggers around his cheap room, the shadow of a rotating ceiling fan hovers above him like a dark angel. 

He’s got scratches and is bloodied,  and he’s clutching an odd shaped key that he’s never seen before. “Was I going insane?” he wonders in voiceover.

These are classic Woolrich story elements: a morning-after hangover, a spotty memory of having done something awful, a guilt racked conscience and unexplained wounds. 

Kevin McCarthy and Robinson
in “Nightmare.”

He confides in his brother-in-law, police detective Rene Bressard (Robinson), who is at first skeptical of Stan’s story, but later begins to see things differently.

When Stan leads Rene and others to a house off the beaten path, it looks a lot like the place Stan described from his dream, and Rene is ready to snap the cuffs on him. A strong undercurrent of mind control from an unknown source flows through the movie, and Stan sinks into a deep depression, certain that his life has been ruined.

Rene has his hands full trying to make sense of the case, and the solution to the mystery stretches credulity to the breaking point. But the cast’s uniformly strong performances make us forget about plot holes in this impossibly tall tale. But, if the story followed a more logical path it wouldn’t be a Woolrich yarn. 

“The Dark Side of Cinema XVII” features informative, well researched commentary tracks by film historians Gary Gerani and Jason A. Ney. The scans all look and sound great. Edward G. Robinson fans and noir appreciators should add this to their library.

This is Noir: I’m Supposed to be On the Edge of My Seat, So Why Am I Smirking?

A wigged out Barbara Stanwyck, "Double Indemnity" (1944).

By Paul Parcellin

Film noir is chock full of death and destruction and that’s the way we like it. There are other factors at play, of course — dramatic tension between characters and nifty heists meticulously planned and sure to fall apart once it’s showtime. We love alluring femmes fatale who make us fight off the temptation to holler at the screen and warn the dupe that he’s about to fall for her toxic charms, the equivalent of stepping onto a spring-loaded bear trap with big, sharp steel teeth. 

We love to see a poor sap struggle to pry himself out of the mess he’s gotten into thanks to his unabashed hubris or just plain bad luck. 

A house that "must have set someone back
30-thousand bucks, if he ever finished
paying for it."

It can all get pretty grim, so whenever a fleeting moment of comic relief pops up, either intended by the filmmaker or not, it stands out conspicuously, like “a tarantula on a slice of angel food cake,” to paraphrase Raymond Chandler. 

I’m talking about jokes that fall flat. They aren’t funny now and audiences probably weren’t bowled over by them back in the day. There are lines of dialogue that have aged badly and certain references that are wildly out of date. Don’t forget the technical gaffs that cheap-o productions didn’t have the scratch to redo, and strange, awkward moments that are probably due to a star’s unreasonable demands and the director’s lack of gumption to fight back.

Here’s a sampling of some film noir moments that are cherished by smart alecks such as yours truly who now and then can’t help but notice when things on screen just don’t add up:

Sometimes it’s the small observations that put a different spin on things. 

Except for a police squad, Sunset Blvd.
is disturbingly quiet.

Take, for instance, a traffic-free Los Angles main drag in the opening sequence of Billy Wilder’s “Sunset Boulevard” (1950). The scene takes place as dawn breaks over the city, but on a roadway where, in reality, every hour is rush hour. Frankly, the lack of bumper-to-bumper vehicles casts a post-apocalyptic pall over the terrain. Maybe that was intentional, and now that I think about it, what better way could there be to suggest the end of civilization as we know it beneath the smog choked skies of Los Angeles?

Speaking of traffic, there’s a witty, self-aware moment in neo-noir “L.A. Confidential” (1997), which is set in the 1950s. Local dignitaries hold a ribbon cutting ceremony for the then new extension of the 10 freeway, announcing that the super roadway will allow motorists to go from downtown to the ocean in 14 minutes, or something wildly optimistic like that. In L.A., audiences jeer. It’s a fair bet that the first automobile to use that stretch of roadway made it to the ocean in 14 minutes. Since then, only helicopters and jet packs come close to that speed. 

Barton Keyes (Edward G. Robinson) straightens out
his boss, Edward S. Norton (Richard Gaines),
in "Double Indemnity" (1944).

One of noir’s most beloved crime dramas, “Double Indemnity,” (1944) has a number of moments that give us a chuckle. In fairness, most of the humor is due to a first-rate cast and the masterful work of director Billy Wilder and co-screenwriter Raymond Chandler. For example, in one scene Edward G. Robinson, as crusty insurance adjuster Barton Keyes, fires off smart rejoinders and clipped observations that hit the mark. This is one between him and his annoying boss, Edward S. Norton (Richard Gaines). Keyes gets in a subtle dig at the pompous executive:

Edward S. Norton: That witness from the train, what was his name?

Barton Keyes: His name was Jackson. Probably still is.

But then there are a couple of moments in which some unintended comedy occurs: When insurance salesman Walter Neff (Fred MacMurray) gazes at the upscale Spanish Colonial Revival home owned by one of his clients, he remarks in voice-over that it must have set the owner back “30-thousand bucks,” which elicited a knowing cackle from the audience at the Brattle, a Cambridge revival house where I saw it. It seems that there’s nothing like outdated real estate pricing to put an audience in a buoyant mood.

Walter Neff (Fred MacMurray) gets his drink on.

Another guffaw out loud moment comes when Walter, fresh off a couple of strings at a bowling alley, stops for a cold one at a car hop diner. He’s behind the wheel of his auto, a tray hooked onto the window ledge holds a partly filled beer bottle as he tosses back a glass of suds. The crowd got a sarcastic laugh out of this one, too.

Wilder was responsible for one production misstep. He said he realized too late that plunking a blonde wig on Barbara Stanwyck, who portrays femme fatale Phyllis Dietrichson, was a mistake. He wanted her to look cheap, but instead, he admitted, she looked like George Washington. 

The plot of Alfred Hitchcock's “Strangers on a Train” involves tennis star Guy Haynes (Farley Granger) who encounters deranged gadabout Bruno Antony (Robert Walker). Bruno’s delusions lead him to commit a murder that he eventually tries to pin on Guy. 

Farley Granger, Robert Walker.
"Strangers on a Train."

At the film’s stunning conclusion in an amusement part, a tense struggle between Guy and Bruno ends with an out of control carousel careening off its axis and sliding across the amusement park’s midway. 

Cops arrive and the mortally wounded Bruno clutches a key piece of evidence that would tend to clear Guy of the murder he’s suspected of committing. The police size up the situation and declare that Guy is innocent. No questions asked. No trip to headquarters required. Badda-bing, badda-boom, he’s free to go.

In “Shield for Murder” (1954), Barney Nolan (Edmond O’Brien)
lures bookie Packy Reed (Herbie Faye) down an alleyway.
Note the boom microphone shadow that somehow snuck into the frame.

My favorite visual blooper is what must be the most visible boom microphone shadow in all of noir. In the opening scene of “Shield for Murder” (1954), crooked cop Barney Nolan (Edmond O’Brien) takes bookie Packy Reed (Herbie Faye) down an alleyway and gives him the works. On the way, an undeniably crisp shadow of a piece of sound equipment comes into view. Noir is supposed to be shadowy, but not like this. We can only conclude that a beer-money budget prohibited reshoots.

In "D.O.A." (1949) Frank Bigelow checks out
the local talent while checking in.

An embarrassingly bad bit of sound in “D.O.A.” (1949) temporarily mars the otherwise spotless noir it is. In it, everyman Frank Bigelow (Edmond O’Brien) is living under a death sentence after someone slips him a dose of slow-acting poison with no antidote. But before all that happens he’s on vacation in San Francisco and he ogles some attractive women. Director Rudolph Maté saw fit to add a cheesy sound effect of a wolf whistle, just in case we didn’t get the point. Maté is best known as a cinematographer, and in helming this low-budget classic he created a minor masterpiece. But, oh, that cringe-worthy slide whistle!

Sometimes a character is so rotten that we can only chuckle in admiration of her sheer audacity. In “Decoy” (1946), another low budget thriller, Margot Shelby (Jean Gillie) earns her spurs as perhaps the most cold hearted dame in all of noir. A sample of her frosty demeanor goes as follows: 

 Edward Norris, Jean Gillie, Herbert Rudley, "Decoy" (1946).

Motoring toward the site where a large cache of money is allegedly hidden, Margot’s car gets a flat. One of the two men riding with her changes the tire. As he lowers the jack beneath the front bumper, Margot slams the car into forward gear and runs over the unsuspecting sap. She hops out, rifles through the dead man’s pockets, grabs the tire changing tools and gets back behind the wheel. And why not? No need to share the jackpot with another schmo.

With her brazen disregard for the sanctity of human life, Margot earns a standing ovation. They don’t get much more fatale than that femme. 

So, those are a handful of cherished moments of ironic comedy. Surely, you’ve found a few that brought a smile to your face. Feel free to share them in Comments. I’d love to hear about them.