Gun Crazy (1950)
The clumsy original title, Deadly is the Female, is surely accurate. Boy was Peggy Cummins perfect in this role, and it's odd she did little else with her career. She's no searing dame as in other noirs, but she's a kind of regular, cute girl who attracts not men, but one particular man, played by John Dall. Dall is a perfect victim. He plays the innocent ordinary American guy perfectly, better than even a James Stewart because he has no charisma, no ability to inspire those around him.
So Annie and Bart form a pair of misfits who fit together. And they both love guns, and are really really good with them.
The plot is pretty straight forward from here, but it's fast, and photographed with more vigor than most better films. The dialog pushes the artifice of noir-speak a bit hard, but I swallow it whole and love it as style. And besides, these are two unsophisticated people who might just talk a little corny and dramatic at times. And Annie is truly unpredictable, and her ups and downs are a thrill for us as much as a worry for poor Bart.
Yes, a femme fatale and a noir hero, isolated and doomed. And some riveting long take photography including the now legendary camera view from the back seat of a car, on and on, and on, showing them driving, getting out, waiting while they rob a bank, swerving out a little to look out the window, pulling back, and following them on their escape. It's about as good as B-movie camera-work innovation gets. Cinematographer Russell Harlan was an A-movie quality guy from the studios, later to do "Witness for the Prosecution" and "To Kill a Mockingbird." The angles, the close-ups on their sweaty faces, the moving camera. Check it out.
This is a great movie, in all. Legendary for many reasons. It has flaws if you want to see them that way. Or it has all the raw energy of a scrappy fighter who is determined to win, and does.
The clumsy original title, Deadly is the Female, is surely accurate. Boy was Peggy Cummins perfect in this role, and it's odd she did little else with her career. She's no searing dame as in other noirs, but she's a kind of regular, cute girl who attracts not men, but one particular man, played by John Dall. Dall is a perfect victim. He plays the innocent ordinary American guy perfectly, better than even a James Stewart because he has no charisma, no ability to inspire those around him.
So Annie and Bart form a pair of misfits who fit together. And they both love guns, and are really really good with them.
The plot is pretty straight forward from here, but it's fast, and photographed with more vigor than most better films. The dialog pushes the artifice of noir-speak a bit hard, but I swallow it whole and love it as style. And besides, these are two unsophisticated people who might just talk a little corny and dramatic at times. And Annie is truly unpredictable, and her ups and downs are a thrill for us as much as a worry for poor Bart.
Yes, a femme fatale and a noir hero, isolated and doomed. And some riveting long take photography including the now legendary camera view from the back seat of a car, on and on, and on, showing them driving, getting out, waiting while they rob a bank, swerving out a little to look out the window, pulling back, and following them on their escape. It's about as good as B-movie camera-work innovation gets. Cinematographer Russell Harlan was an A-movie quality guy from the studios, later to do "Witness for the Prosecution" and "To Kill a Mockingbird." The angles, the close-ups on their sweaty faces, the moving camera. Check it out.
This is a great movie, in all. Legendary for many reasons. It has flaws if you want to see them that way. Or it has all the raw energy of a scrappy fighter who is determined to win, and does.