The Nighttime Is The
Right Time-With Fritz Lang’s Film Adaptation Of Clifford Odets’ “Clash By
Night” In Mind
By Film Critic Emeritus
Sam Lowell
No I am not here to look
over somebody’s, some other reviewer’s shoulder now that Peter Paul Markin, the
moderator on this site has let the cat out of the bag and told one and all that
with my review of 1956’s Giant I was,
as he put it, putting myself to pasture. Although I would not have put it that
way a few more or less serious medical problems have required to back off a
little on reviewing films, a task I have done now for over forty years-and will
continue periodically to continue doing. Today though I am here to comment on a
review of Clash By Night by one of
the in-coming reviewers, Sandy Salmon, whom I have known for at least thirty
years and have respected for his work as my co-worker at the American Film Gazette almost as long. At
fitting commentary to that respect is that I have freely “stolen” plenty of
stuff from his pithy reviews over years. So enough said about that.
After reading Sandy’s
review I also realized that I was not familiar with the film that was under
review although as the regular readers know I live for film noir, or variations
of it which I think is closer to the nut in Clash.
So naturally I called him up to ask to borrow his copy of the DVD which he
sent me a few days later and which I viewed a couple of days after that. No
question as Sandy pointed out Clash
is a little hidden gem of a film with the standout cast of Barbara Stanwyck,
Paul Douglas, Robert Ryan, and a pre-iconic Marilyn Monroe. With top notch
direction by Fritz Lang who knew how to set a mood from the beginning of a film
to the end here with a close up look at the shoreline of Monterrey setting us
up for the clashing waves to come-human clashing waves and with a screenplay by
my old friend Artie Hayes from the hot pen of playwright Clifford Odets who
before he turned 1950s red scare fink, snitch, sell-out did some very good work
(interesting that most of the finks and slinkers like Elia Kazan, Langston
Hughes, Josh White and a million others never did produce that much good work
after they went down on their knees before
the American mammon and guys like Dalton
Trumbo, Dashiell Hammett and Howard Fast who carried their toothbrushes with
them into the House Un-American Activities Committee’s witch-hunt tribunals lived
to do some good work after the red scare blew away like dust).
No question this film
had a good pedigree, had the stuff that kept things moving along in the funny
little human drama being played out among ordinary folk with ordinary dreams
which got smashed up against the real
world. Sandy made some good points as he summarized the ploy-line for the
reader. I have no quarrel with that but
what I want to do is highlight some things that Sandy, the soul of discretion,
kind of fluffed. My take on what was going on with all that high-end dialogue
that Artie produced to throw in the main characters’ mouths.
For openers let’s call
things by their right name, this Mae Doyle, the role played by Barbara
Stanwyck, was nothing but a tramp, a drifter and nighty-taker. Sure she had
some femme fatale qualities, Sandy was right to make a comparison with Phyllis,
the wanton femme and man trap who put Walter Neff through the wringer in Double Indemnity also played by Ms.
Stanwyck, but she was strictly from the wrong side of the tracks. Was bound to
let some guy who just wanted a good-looking woman to fill his house with kids
take the gaff. Mae had come home to working
class Monterrey after having been out in the big wide world and gotten her
younger years dreams crushed. She was now world weary and wary looking for a
safe port. Call me politically incorrect or culturally insensitive but once a
tramp always a tramp.
Mae knew it, knew it all
the time she was leading poor sap Jerry, the role played by Paul Douglas. She
took a supposed tough guy, a guy who had been hardened by the sea and twisted
him around in and out in two second flat once she got her hooks into him. Earl
knew that, Earl played by Robert Ryan, knew from minute one that whatever play
Jerry was making for Mae he, Earl, was going to go down and dirty under the
silky sheets with her before he was done-wedding ring or no wedding ring. And
guess what as you already know she, when she got bored with the frankly boring
Jerry and his fucking fish smells, his goddam sardine aura, she was ready to
blow town with the hunky Earl. Didn’t think twice about it even with a little
child in the way. Yeah, Jerry was made for the role of cuckold, maybe deserved
it for having, what did Sandy call him, oh yeah, the blinders on way before he
found some silky negligees and come hither perfumes, gifts from Earl, hidden in
her bureau drawer.
Then he man’s up, man’s
up when it is too late as they, Mae and Earl are ready to take a hike with that
little baby in tow. Then Mae got cold feet, supposedly was mother-hungry for
the child and was ready to do penance for her indiscretions. Earl had it right
though, had Mae pegged as a tramp, as someone looking for next adventure. That
is what makes the end of the film run false as she practically begs Jerry to
take her back now that she had seen the light. Jesus what a sap. Earl said it
best. If she didn’t go away with him then it would only be a matter of time
before she got bored again with Jerry and took a walk, maybe came running back
to him, him and the wild side of life. I bet six, two and even and will take on
all-comers that she blows town before the next year is out. You heard it here first-
a tramp is always a tramp-end of discussion. Nice first review here Sandy, good
luck.
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