Essential Noir Films: Anthony Uzarowski on THE KILLERS + the femme fatale
‘You won’t live till morning’: The Battle of the Sexes in Classic Film Noir
The ambiguous, conflicting and often subversive representation of sexuality and gender is without a doubt one of the key characteristics of film noir. This group of films, perhaps more than any other genre or style, present a world where gender is subjectified and the traditional notions of patriarchal society questioned. This in itself is a paradox, since film noir is also quintessentially a male-created world. Yet far from being the heroic masculine archetypes, the male protagonists of film noir often showcase a vulnerability and weakness of character which set them apart from the way men have been represented in other genres of American cinema. Similarly, women of noir defy the established, stereotypical notions of femininity, by resisting and undermining the patriarchal social order.
Most film scholars point out the importance of the Second World War in the shift which occurred in the creation of cinematic characters in the 1940s. The men who came back from war were unprepared for the new reality they found. They were also unprepared for the new women they found at home. While they had been away fighting, women were forced to leave the house and find work, many for the first time. Living and working alone brought the spirit of independence to the life of an average American woman, a spirit which no doubt seemed unfamiliar and threatening to the men who returned home. This new woman was more confident, more independent, for the first time realizing that perhaps marriage and domesticity might not be the only option for her (an example can be THE BLUE DAHLIA (George Marshall, 1946) where Alan Ladd returns home from the South Pacific to find his wife changed beyond recognition.)
The fear and distrust of this change in the collective psyche of women is reflected in the way noir men view the heroine. The femme fatale becomes a force larger than life, her malevolence beyond comprehension, her actions ruthless and cold. This is perhaps best reflected in the way Johnny (Glen Ford) mistrusts and demonizes Gilda (Rita Hayworth) in GILDA (King Vidor, 1946.) Throughout the film he makes the viewer believe that Gilda is indeed guilty of some terrible crimes and indiscretions, which are never revealed. By the end it is suggested that Gilda’s sins might have been a figment of Johnny’s imagination; a product of a wounded ego and insecure masculinity.
‘I did something wrong once’. Swede (Burt Lancaster) awaits death in THE KILLERS.
Contrary to the popular consensus, the femme fatale is by no means the only type of female character occupying the world of noir. For each wicked woman there usually exists the good girl, willing to lead the protagonist off his self-destructive path; the perfect example being Lilly (Virginia Christine) in THE KILLERS (Robert Siodmak, 1946.) Yet it is without a doubt the femme fatale who remains the most ambiguously fascinating female archetype of film noir. From the late 1960s onwards a number of feminist film scholars have examined the complex dynamics of the place of women in film noir. Molly Haskell, one of the most influential writers in the field of feminist theory in film, called the femme fatales of noir the “aggressors by male design, deprived of their point of view.”
While the notion of a two faced woman, the seductress who brings forth the demise of a man, has existed in art and literature for centuries, the femme fatale of film noir becomes a crucial figure in the way women are represented in cinema. On the one hand she is the ultimate creation of male fantasy, and as such, her actions dictated entirely by his design. On the other, however, she is the one who dares to disobey the man, to resist and disturb the male world.
These women use sex as a means of attaining their goals. This in itself is a revolutionary concept in the context of Hollywood cinema of the 1940s. With the Production Code at the height of its power, any mention of extramarital sex was strictly forbidden, unless it was punished at the end of the story. This tragic fate only adds to the femme fatale’s appeal, her death can often be read as a reflection of a romantic sacrifice. Possibly one of the most poignant examples of this is DOUBLE INDEMNITY (Billy Wilder, 1944), where Phyllis (Barbara Stanwyck) refuses to fire the mortal shot at Walter (Fred MacMurray), and instead dies herself. Similarly, in THE POSTMAN ALWAYS RINGS TWICE (Tay Garnett, 1946), Cora’s death elevates her image from a cold-hearted vileness to something of a romantic heroine.
For the dark hearted heroine of film noir is ultimately just as lost in the contemporary urban reality as is the male protagonist. Fear, vulnerability and the desire for protection is just as much part of the femme fatale’s character as is her ruthlessness and determination (examples include, but are not limited to Kitty in THE KILLERS, Cora (Lana Turner) in THE POSTMAN ALWAYS RINGS TWICE, Phyllis in DOUBLE INDEMNITY, Stella (Linda Darnell) in FALLEN ANGEL and Gilda in (GILDA.)
Where they differ, however, from the traditional patriarchal vision of womanhood is in their refusal to be dominated and controlled by a man and by the male-created conventions. Constrained by socio-economic realities of the time, many find themselves forced to marry much older men, who give them a temporary sense of security (Gilda, Cora, Phyllis.) When confronted with the male protagonist; an attractive drifter or a romantic figure from the past, the women’s sexual appetite and an instinct for self-preservation becomes the driving force behind their actions. Sexuality becomes their most powerful weapon, seduction their most reliable strategy.
The sexual identity becomes the central characteristic of a femme fatale and one that is a crucial element of a noir narrative. In THE KILLERS, while the men plot a robbery, Kitty Collins is symbolically placed on the bed to highlight the destructive power of her sexuality. She is the only woman in this harsh environment, and yet she is in control. When Colfax (Albert Dekker) attempts to strike her, Kitty declares: “You touch me and you won’t live till morning.”
It’s a man’s world: Kitty Collins (Ava Gardner) as the quintessential femme fatale, placed on the bed to highlight the destructive power of her sexuality
The visual image of a femme fatale has become part of the aesthetic iconography of film noir. As such she is perfectly embodied by Ava Gardner, who portrays Kitty Collins. We first encounter Kitty at a party in an elegant apartment owned by her gangster boyfriend. Swede is introduced to Kitty, and symbolically, to the world of underground crime she is part of. Ironically, one of the first lines she delivers stands in direct contrast with the femme fatale ethos: “I can never bear to see a man I really care for being hurt.” But this is all part of the perfect seduction. Significantly, the first time we see the femme fatale is almost always when she is at her most desirable: Phyllis on top of the stairs, wrapped in a towel or Gilda seductively throwing her hair back.
Kitty Collins, as portrayed by Ava Gardner, is mysterious and sensual, her dark, curly locks matched by her black, silky dress (a similar dress is worn by Gilda in the pivotal scene of the film where she performs her erotically charged rendition of “Put the Blame on Mame.”) Kitty also employs singing as a tool for seduction, as she leans against the piano to softly purr “the more I know of love, the less I know.” THE KILLERS is unique among other noirs in terms of female voice over narration; while it is usually only the men who have the privilege of narrating the story (another notable exception is MILDRED PIERCE, Michael Curtiz, 1945), here we hear both Lilly and Kitty narrating segments of the movie. It is through Lilly’s eyes, rather than Swede’s, that we first encounter Kitty. And although, unlike Gilda, Phyllis or Cora, Kitty is not redeemed at the end of the film, never becoming the romantic heroine, she too manages to plant a seed of sympathy in the heart of the viewer.
When she recounts the night she double crossed Swede, she declares: “I’m poison to myself and everybody around me. I’d be scared to go with someone I love for the harm I’d do them.” This is a powerful statement and one which adds to the equivocal nature of the femme fatale.
For is femme fatale really ever entirely evil beyond redemption? By our contemporary standards she most certainly is not. It is difficult not to feel sympathy for Phyllis when she talks about having “a small allowance” of her own and the times “when we just sit here all evening without a word.” Ignored by her husband, both sexually and intellectually, and confined within a society where a divorce is rarely an option, the woman of noir tries desperately to break free from her prison. Kitty tells Reardon (Edmund O’Brien) at the end of THE KILLERS: “I’d like you to believe something; I hated my life, only I wasn’t strong enough to get away from it. All I could do is dream of some big payoff that would let me quit the whole racket.” As it turns out, she never manages to escape, becoming the wife of the gangster Colfax instead.
There can be no doubt that the enormous impact classic noir heroines have had on the way women are perceived in terms of narrative representation is at least partly due to the charismatic actresses who portrayed them. By disturbing the patriarchal order audiences were so used to, the femme fatales fought for the cinematic liberation of the female character, often having to operate within a male created world of misogynistic views and derogatory stereotypes. Actresses such as Rita Hayworth, Barbara Stanwyck and Ava Gardner managed to find ways in which audiences not only questioned the male-driven narrative, but rooted for and identified with the femme fatales.
