Scarlet Street

source: Scarlet Street

Christopher Cross, in middle aged, and in a life going nowhere and devoid of love and inspiration. Till one evening he rescues Kitty March from a mugger, it's the start of a relationship that has far reaching consequences for them, and those closest to them. The previous year director Fritz Lang had made The Woman In The Window, a film that was hugely popular with critics and fans alike. Here he reunites from that excellent film with Edward G. Robinson, Joan Bennett and Dan Duryea, the result being what can arguably be described as one of the best exponents of Film Noir's dark sensibilities. Adapting from works by André Mouézy-Éon and Georges de La Fouchardière (novel and play), this story of desperate love and greedy deceit had already had a big screen adaptation from Jean Renoir in 1931 as La chienne, which appropriately enough translates as The Bitch! Now there's a Noir title if ever there was one! What Lang does with this adaptation is drip his own expressionism all over it, whilst crucially he doesn't ease off from the harsher aspects of the story. This is nasty, cruel stuff, and with Lang at the time feeling a bit abused and used by the studio system he was slave to, who better to darkly cloak a sordid story with a biting edge? Is it purely coincidence that Lang took on this film about a struggling artist who's vision is stifled by another? Possibly not one is inclined to feel. Edward G. Robinson is fabulous as the pathetic Chris Cross. Married to a wife who constantly heckles and belittles him (Rosalind Ivan), Robinson's take on Cross garners empathy by the shed load, so much so that once Kitty (Bennett) and her beau, Johnny Prince (Duryea), start to scheme a scam on Chris, the audience are feeling as desperate as Cross was himself at the start of the movie. Few noir guys have so meekly fell under a femme fatale's spell as the way Cross does for Kitty here. But such is Lang's atmospherics, you not only sense that it's going to go bad, you expect it to, and naturally Robinson is just the man to punch us in the guts with added impetus. Bennett and Duryea are very convincing, almost spitefully enjoying taking the hapless Robinson character for everything they can, and the visuals, especially during the bleak, shadowy last couple of reels, cap the mood perfectly. This film is in truth probably saying more about its director than anything else that he made. And in fact it was said to be one of his all time favourites. That's nice to find out because it finds him on particularly good, and yes, devilish form. Grim, brilliant and essential film noir. 9/10

I can definitely understand the positive reviews for this film and I would have probably scored this film a lot higher had I not also seen LA CHIENNE--a French film that from which SCARLET STREET was derived. However, while LA CHIENNE is a less polished film, it is much funnier and grittier and makes a much stronger impact because it doesn't take the easy way out and give a "Hollywood-ized" (i.e., "sanitized") ending. In fact, up until the end, I might have given SCARLET STREET an 8 or 9. But the end was just awful. Now in general, I don't like overly explicit films (after all, I am a parent and a teacher), but the production codes of the time really went way overboard--this film should have been left as it originally was. I really don't want to betray the endings, because it could ruin both films for you, but I will just say that LA CHIENNE has a kind of happy ending while SCARLET STREET is a heavy-handed morality play at the end--totally softening the harsh impact of the first 90% of the film. As for the film, the performance that stood out the most was the supporting actor, Dan Duryea--he was what made this film a far better than average movie. Joan Bennet and Edward G. Robinson were fine, but Duryea just "chewed up the screen". Robinson's character was a nice treat, as he was very likable and sympathetic--much like Charles Laughton in THE SUSPECT. As for Fritz Lang, while he was certainly a great director, I think this was one of the least inspired jobs he did that I can think of. You would never know this is the same director who made METROPOLIS, M or THE WOMAN IN THE WINDOW. Oh, and by the way, THE WOMAN IN THE WINDOW came out the same year as this film and featured both the same basic cast AND a somewhat similar plot! In fact, after I saw both films, I mixed them up in my mind until I saw them both for a second time! Despite my objections to the movie, it is still well worth seeing. The basic plot is GREAT--but the ending,...YECCHH!! Do yourself a favor--after you see this film, try to find LA CHIENNE! You won't be sorry. By the way, the SCARLET STREET DVD was by Front Row Entertainment and had a really poor quality print and offered no extras. I think this might be a public domain video and often the prints floating about are pretty bad of many of the public domain movies.

Fritz Lang directs this moody Film-Noir. Glorious black & white. Interesting story line and well acted. A meek henpecked bank cashier(Edward G. Robinson)becomes an embezzler after meeting and falling in love with a much younger woman(Joan Bennett). The lovely and alluring Bennett's pimp(Dan Duryea)convinces her into manipulating the older man for money and control of his modest art work. Emotions can run the gamut and it is easy to find Duryea's character most offensive. Robinson and Bennett leave very little room to improve their skills. Also in the cast are Margaret Lindsay and Jess Barker. I loved the rainy scene and the moment when Robinson finds out that his muse is using him. The wrong seems to be righted, but still leaving a price to pay. Wonderful old time classic.

After a slow first half, the second half of the film picked up considerably and made the whole film worth watching. Because I am a fan of many of the actors in here, I'll watch it again but it's not one of the more intense, riveting film noirs of the 1940s. Dan Duryea did what he did best: play the cocky wise-guy. Joan Bennett as "Kitty March" offered good looks, a body, and a despicable character. Her foil was the pathetic "Christopher Cross," portrayed by Edward G. Robinson. No tough guy role here for Eddie G. He's just a poor sap taken in by a pretty younger woman. Actually, it's hard to feel too sorry for "Chris" as he lets an innocent man go to the electric chair. At least he has a conscience, which torments him more and more as he winds up losing his mind. Here's another example that one really does "reap what one sows" even if it isn't apparent at first. A conscience gets the best of most people. That's the message of this film, if you can stay with it. Margaret Lindsay is in here, too, someone I've always enjoyed watching, particularly in her films of the early '30s.

Third rate dialog and studio system casting doomed this project before it ever could get off the ground. Sultry Lauren Bacall or tempting Gloria Graham would have been highly preferable to Joan Bennett but even her casting made more sense than Dan Duryea as her pimp boyfriend. To say he is no Richard Widmark or Lee Marvin is an understatement. I expected him to take off his white hat and start singing and dancing every moment he appeared on the screen. The contrived appearance of a previously presumed dead character, wearing a pirate's eye-patch as a disguise, would have made more sense in an Ed Wood's Jailbait than in a film by the great Fritz Lang. The eye-patch as a disguise and his story of ending up on a banana boat to Honduras made as much sense as Victor Lazlo eluding the Nazis in a yellow suit in Ted Turner's colorized version of Casablanca. All of this is unfortunate because Fritz Lang was still capable of making great films as shown with The Big Heat a few years later. The basic premise of the love of a young woman ruining an older man (e.g. The Blue Angel) could have resulted in a worthy film.

Few movie fans, and no film noir fans, will want to miss this flawed but fascinating film, with the great Edward G. Robinson playing Christopher Cross, a banker and amateur painter who falls in love with a woman (Joan Bennett) young enough to be his daughter—and devious enough to destroy his life. She is in love with the no-account (Dan Duryea) who slaps her around and encourages her friendship with the old dupe. But who is duping whom? He tells her he's a famous painter, and she believes him. So does the no-account, who tries to sell the paintings—and sets in motion a series of events that will drastically change Cross's life. I haven't read the novel or play "La Chienne" that provided the basis for "Scarlet Street"; nor have I seen the Jean Renoir film based on the book. I hear they're all black comedies, which might explain the offbeat quality to this film. Did the director Fritz Lang intend a black comedy only to be thwarted by Universal Studios? Did he intend the serious tone but neglect to remove some of the sources' black comic elements? Whatever happened, Joan Bennett and Dan Duryea don't quite seem to belong to this movie. Duryea in particular seems to playing his part for laughs. Bennett isn't bad, but there's a certain phoniness to her performance. Watch that scene where she sits in her bed while talking on the phone: she seems to be posing for a magazine layout. She's also too stridently evil. There are hints from her dialogue that her character, Kitty, is a fundamentally decent woman corrupted by her lover. But Bennett doesn't convey this particularly well. I believe Kitty's hateful outburst at the end is an expression of self-loathing, and of a frustration over Robinson being gullible enough to *allow* her to be so evil, more than it is an expression of sheer malice. Bennett plays only the malice. Another thing that seems left over from a black comedy is the introduction of the character with the eye patch. I won't give away the surprise; but I do think the situation too wacky and implausible for this film. Did this plot twist come from "La Chienne," or was it imposed by censors who wanted to prevent a certain sin from occurring (in a film already drenched in sin!)? The two young lovers, Kitty and Johnny, seem drawn from life—if you can ignore the way they're performed. Kitty is a woman who couldn't bear a man to treat her well. Her *need* to be slapped around was probably too potent for 1945 just as it's too politically incorrect for 2007. But it's true to the dark side of human nature. We all know women like Kitty. Johnny is a bit opaque to me. Does he need to slap around a woman to love her? Does he love Kitty at all? My guess is, he doesn't love her. Does he even want her? That I don't know. This slow-moving film rewards the viewer with many persuasive and memorable moments. There's the behavior of Robinson's shrewish wife (Rosalind Ivan) when a friend comes to visit. There's Robinson's sincere speech telling how he creates a painting. Finally, Fritz Lang uses shadows, distorted sound and bizarre sets to convey Robinson's state of mind in the frightening last scenes.

This is a good, tense drama that builds up an interesting 'noir' story that includes some rather creative story elements. It has several strengths, but most of all it features three fine performances by Edward G. Robinson, Joan Bennett, and Dan Duryea. It's also easy to see Fritz Lang's skilled hand at work in the story-telling, mood, and pacing. Robinson shows his skill and versatility in portraying a mild-mannered bank cashier who really wants nothing more than the chance to dabble in his painting, before getting caught up in a complicated situation. Bennett is quite effective as the opportunistic young woman who befriends him, and Dan Duryea adds his presence and ability to very good effect - Duryea had the knack of portraying this kind character as well as anyone. His appearance in any film-noir always seemed to make an average movie good and a good movie even better. The story is developed carefully, as Robinson's character slowly begins to realize that he has gotten into a situation beyond his control. By the time that things come to a head, the tension is considerable. The ending is also rather resourceful, in being carefully written so as to satisfy the stringent requirements of the production code of the era while also ending the story in a way that seems appropriate and fitting to the tone of the movie as a whole. All of this adds up to make "Scarlet Street" a fine movie that is well worth seeing, especially for fans of film-noir.

In New York, after celebrating his twenty-fifth years as a cashier of a company and receiving a golden watch in a dinner party, the middle-aged amateurish painter Christopher Cross (Edward G. Robinson) protects a young woman, Katharine March (Joan Bennett), from an assault on the street by a young man, Johnny Prince (Dan Duryea), without knowing that he is her lover. Chris invites Kitty to drink a coffee in a bar, and presents himself as a successful and wealthy painter. The small time crook and caftan Johnny sees the chance to raise easy money and convinces the manipulative Kitty to take as much money as possible from Chris. He embezzles his company and steals his wife, and Kitty moves to a huge studio. Chris brings his paintings to the new address, and Johnny takes them for evaluation and they are considered masterpieces by an arts critic and by the owner of a gallery. Kitty pretends to be the painter, becomes famous, leading them to a tragic conclusion. "Scarlett Street" is a masterpiece of film-noir: a magnificent sordid story, with sex and corruption, the femme fatale, and the losers, all the elements are presented in this movie. The direction of Fritz Lang is precise as usual, and Dan Duryea, Edward G. Robinson and Joan Bennett are simply fantastic. The conclusion, with Chris haunted by the ghosts, is excellent. My vote is ten. Title (Brazil): "Almas Perversas" ("Wicked Souls") Note: On 09 January 2017, I saw this film again.

It's hard to see that your youth has escaped you. It happens to us all. The sad personage of Christopher Cross is very touching. He has seen his life pass with a nice gold watch all he has to show for it. His wife is ugly and mean spirited, his work is dull. He is quite a good painter but hasn't time to do anything about it. Them "she" comes into the picture. All those charms, sexy, vulnerable, and evil, with a connection to Dan Duryea (what a cad) to boot. When the Robinson Character comes to her rescue, it's Johnny (Duryea) who is slapping her around. She is perceptive enough to believe that the well dressed older man must have money, and, if she plays her cards right, she can squeeze him for money. He falls, hook, line, and sinker, and really believes she cares about him. Not only is she an opportunist, she even uses his art as her own to get more money. Because he is moonstruck, he lets her go on and on. There is a subplot concerning his wife's first husband and some other things, but he slowly descends the path to destruction. Everyone watching the movie knows that the poor sap is going to get his at some point. The way it happens is a bit of a stretch. Chris should really feel very little guilt; he is victimized all long the way. But in film noir, the dark elements demand their pound of flesh. He is paid for his foolishness and trust.