A repeat viewing of "Scarlet Street" today has heightened my appreciation for the film, a sordid little affair expertly presented by Director Fritz Lang. Lang brings subtle nuances to his characters to help us understand what drives and motivates them. We have a pretty good idea early on that Christopher Cross (Edward G. Robinson) is a meek bank clerk, but one doesn't see how truly desperate his life has become until he puts on that blasted apron to wash the dishes. Or how about the 'three on a match' superstition put to the test at his retirement dinner when Chris's boss lights his cigar, a quick aside shows him crossing his fingers to ward off fate.
Art critic David Janeway had the perfect description of Kitty March (Joan Bennett) describing her as a Mona Lisa without the smile, a testament to her two faced nature. With boyfriend Johnny's (Dan Duryea) encouragement, Kitty plays Janeway along as well. How many boyfriends did Johnny think she could string along before the whole thing fell apart?
With relatively little screen time, Rosalind Ivan portrays every man's worst nightmare in a wife, an Edith Bunker on steroids relentlessly hounding her husband into submission on a daily basis. One wonders if there could have been an ice pick in her future as well, although the re-appearance of her presumed dead husband was a slick table turn by Chris. However I'm not sure I can buy the presumption that the Cross marriage is automatically over just because Patch-Eye shows up; that matter wasn't satisfactorily resolved in my view, though fair enough for Chris to continue his foray into delusion.
Though the movie doesn't start out that way, Chris winds up committing the perfect crime, with the inadvertent help of con man Johnny who winds up taking a death chair rap. It would have held up too, except for Chris's conscience. In a scene reminiscent of the Bogart/Greenstreet conversation in the film "Conflict", the seed of a killer's self destruction is planted by a detective who theorizes on the guilt of the criminal mind. By now, if one doesn't realize how hapless Chris has become, it should be crystal clear. The authorities don't believe his confession, and with the disembodied voices of Kitty and Johnny mocking him from the grave, Chris can't even successfully commit suicide. He has become one of film's biggest losers.
"Scarlet Street" is a compelling journey into noir territory and holds up well after sixty years. Robinson, Bennett and Duryea are each successful in creating characters so pathetic that one can only stand at a distance and marvel at their performances. In that regard, the film, much like Chris's paintings, will give you a peculiar perspective.
Art critic David Janeway had the perfect description of Kitty March (Joan Bennett) describing her as a Mona Lisa without the smile, a testament to her two faced nature. With boyfriend Johnny's (Dan Duryea) encouragement, Kitty plays Janeway along as well. How many boyfriends did Johnny think she could string along before the whole thing fell apart?
With relatively little screen time, Rosalind Ivan portrays every man's worst nightmare in a wife, an Edith Bunker on steroids relentlessly hounding her husband into submission on a daily basis. One wonders if there could have been an ice pick in her future as well, although the re-appearance of her presumed dead husband was a slick table turn by Chris. However I'm not sure I can buy the presumption that the Cross marriage is automatically over just because Patch-Eye shows up; that matter wasn't satisfactorily resolved in my view, though fair enough for Chris to continue his foray into delusion.
Though the movie doesn't start out that way, Chris winds up committing the perfect crime, with the inadvertent help of con man Johnny who winds up taking a death chair rap. It would have held up too, except for Chris's conscience. In a scene reminiscent of the Bogart/Greenstreet conversation in the film "Conflict", the seed of a killer's self destruction is planted by a detective who theorizes on the guilt of the criminal mind. By now, if one doesn't realize how hapless Chris has become, it should be crystal clear. The authorities don't believe his confession, and with the disembodied voices of Kitty and Johnny mocking him from the grave, Chris can't even successfully commit suicide. He has become one of film's biggest losers.
"Scarlet Street" is a compelling journey into noir territory and holds up well after sixty years. Robinson, Bennett and Duryea are each successful in creating characters so pathetic that one can only stand at a distance and marvel at their performances. In that regard, the film, much like Chris's paintings, will give you a peculiar perspective.