A scheming wife lures an insurance investigator into helping murder her husband and then declare it an accident. The investigator's boss, not knowing his man is involved in it, suspects murd... Read allA scheming wife lures an insurance investigator into helping murder her husband and then declare it an accident. The investigator's boss, not knowing his man is involved in it, suspects murder and sets out to prove it.A scheming wife lures an insurance investigator into helping murder her husband and then declare it an accident. The investigator's boss, not knowing his man is involved in it, suspects murder and sets out to prove it.
Arnold F. Turner
- Redcap
- (as Arnold Turner)
Rand Brooks
- Conductor
- (uncredited)
Tom Curtis
- Charlie
- (uncredited)
John Furlong
- George
- (uncredited)
Featured reviews
Los Angeles insurance salesman in his late 30s is seduced by the wife of one of his clients, who gives him the idea of taking out an accident insurance policy on her husband without his knowledge. If he's killed, the wife receives $200,000--if he's killed on a train, the amount is doubled. Writer Steven Bochco had the daunting task of compressing James M. Cain's crime novel into a 75-minute movie for television. Bochco must have known how unnecessary the whole idea was, especially since no amount of effort could even hope to get the project out from the shadow of Billy Wilder's classic 1944 version. The three leads (Richard Crenna and Samantha Eggar as the illicit lovers, Lee J. Cobb as Crenna's boss) go through the motions dutifully, but nothing here feels fresh.
This 1973 TV remake of the Billy Wilder classic is inferior to the original. Surprise!
First, the good things. Lee J. Cobb makes a terrific Barton Keyes. He's not as good as Edward G. Robinson, of course, but he's the only reason to watch this. This remake's only improvement over the original is that it cuts down the role of Lola Dietrichson, the step-daughter of the femme fatale, Phyllis Dietrichson.
And that's it for the good things.
The bad things are many. The director records everything in an indifferent manner: if you watched the film with the sound muted you'd hardly get the impression that anything especially interesting was happening. Because of modern bad taste, the film must be in color instead of black and white. Because of 1970s bad taste, all the sets are distractingly ugly. Walter Neff's expensive apartment, in particular, is hideous.
The modern setting hurts in a lot of small ways. Train trips were a bit more unusual in the 70s than in the 40s, so Mr. Dietrichson's decision to take a train seems more of a contrivance. Men stopped wearing hats, which prevents Walter from covering up his brown hair while posing as the white-haired Mr. Dietrichson. Women in mourning stopped wearing veils, which robs Samantha Eggar of a prop Barbara Stanwyck made splendid use of in a key scene. (Oddly, Lola still has the line where she reveals that her stepmother was trying on a black hat and veil before she had need of them.)
Stephen Bochco keeps much of the Billy Wilder-Raymond Chandler script the same. But he makes a lot of tiny, inexplicable changes to the dialogue which leave the script slightly flabby where once it was lean and muscular. Outrageously, the famous motorcycle-cop banter is gone, but look closely and you'll see what looks like a post-production cut where those lines should have been. Bochco may not be to blame.
Richard Crenna is passable as Walter Neff. What might have made this version tolerable is a really splendid Phyllis Dietrichson. Instead we get Samantha Eggar, who comes off like a standard-issue villainess from "Barnaby Jones." But who can blame Eggar? With a director who barely seems interested in what's happening in front of the camera, how could Barbara Stanwyck herself have come off well?
First, the good things. Lee J. Cobb makes a terrific Barton Keyes. He's not as good as Edward G. Robinson, of course, but he's the only reason to watch this. This remake's only improvement over the original is that it cuts down the role of Lola Dietrichson, the step-daughter of the femme fatale, Phyllis Dietrichson.
And that's it for the good things.
The bad things are many. The director records everything in an indifferent manner: if you watched the film with the sound muted you'd hardly get the impression that anything especially interesting was happening. Because of modern bad taste, the film must be in color instead of black and white. Because of 1970s bad taste, all the sets are distractingly ugly. Walter Neff's expensive apartment, in particular, is hideous.
The modern setting hurts in a lot of small ways. Train trips were a bit more unusual in the 70s than in the 40s, so Mr. Dietrichson's decision to take a train seems more of a contrivance. Men stopped wearing hats, which prevents Walter from covering up his brown hair while posing as the white-haired Mr. Dietrichson. Women in mourning stopped wearing veils, which robs Samantha Eggar of a prop Barbara Stanwyck made splendid use of in a key scene. (Oddly, Lola still has the line where she reveals that her stepmother was trying on a black hat and veil before she had need of them.)
Stephen Bochco keeps much of the Billy Wilder-Raymond Chandler script the same. But he makes a lot of tiny, inexplicable changes to the dialogue which leave the script slightly flabby where once it was lean and muscular. Outrageously, the famous motorcycle-cop banter is gone, but look closely and you'll see what looks like a post-production cut where those lines should have been. Bochco may not be to blame.
Richard Crenna is passable as Walter Neff. What might have made this version tolerable is a really splendid Phyllis Dietrichson. Instead we get Samantha Eggar, who comes off like a standard-issue villainess from "Barnaby Jones." But who can blame Eggar? With a director who barely seems interested in what's happening in front of the camera, how could Barbara Stanwyck herself have come off well?
Utter dreck. I got to the 16 minute/27 second point, and gave up. I'd have given it a negative number review if that were possible (although 'pissible' is a more fitting word...). Unlike the sizzle you could see and practically feel between MacMurray and Stanwyck in the original, the chemistry between dumb ol' Dicky Crenna and whats-her-face here is just non-existent. The anklet becomes an unattractive chunky bracelet? There's no ciggy-lighting-by-fingertip? And I thought I'd be SICK when they have a mortified-looking (and rightly so, believe you me) Lee J. Cobb as Keyes practically burping/upchucking his way through the explanation of his "Little Man" to Mr. Garloupis. No offence to the non-sighted, but it looks as though a posse of blind men ran amuck with the set design of both the Dietrichson and Neff houses. The same goes for those horrid plaid pants that Phyllis wears. And crikey, how much $$ does Neff make, that he lives overlooking a huge marina? This, folks, again, all takes place in the first 16 and a half minutes. If you can get through more of it, you have a much stronger constitution than me, or you are a masochist. But please, take some Alka-Seltzer first, or you WILL develop a "little man" of your own that may never go away. Proceed with caution, obviously.
When Samantha Eggar (as Phyllis Dietrickson) answers the door of her house swathed in a towel, you realize that as competent an actress as Eggar may be, she doesn't have the hypnotic allure of Barbara Stanwyck. And it is not entirely Eggar's fault. In the original film, Wilder had Stanwyck not only appear in a towel, but she enters the scene on the second floor balcony of the house. And she doesn't "come out"; she appears, almost as if by magic. Walter Neff is staring up at her from below on the first floor. There is a reason for this. Stanwyck is much higher than Neff (Fred MacMurray) when they are first introduced. It is not just the towel. The towel adds to the seductive allure. Her pose is like a Greek Goddess overlooking her domain, and, in a strange way, you feel as if, from the start, she is actually controlling the entire situation. She has sexual, even magic, power. This person is no ordinary housewife. This person is a mystery with secrets hidden within.
Back to 1973. The remake has Crenna knock on the front door. Stanwyck's stand-in, Eggar, answers the door with a towel around her. There is no "appearance". She simply opens the door. The alluring superiority that grabs the audience at the first appearance of Stanwyck in 1944 is entirely absent in 1973. She opens the door with a towel around her. It may be sexy in a Charlie's Angels sort of way, but it's not nearly as mysterious. The filmmakers of the remake seem to misunderstand Wilder's point. The script may have said "Phyllis appears in towel" so the filmmakers of the remake simply follow the instructions and include the required towel. The point is not the towel. The point is the enigmatic quality of Phyllis, and the potential power she wields. Wilder gave her a towel to add to her mystique. The filmmakers of the remake gave her a towel because that's what Wilder did. And in the choice of shot, lost all of Phyllis' mystique.
Richard Crenna also seems miscast. He seems like he's "acting" and not really in the midst of the dilemma. Part of the problem is Crenna appears so much like a 70's actor. He can't get into the 1940's. When MacMurray first speaks into the microphone, sweat begins to drip from his face. No sweat on Crenna. And they also changed one of the crucial lines at the beginning. In the original, Neff says, "I didn't get the money, and I didn't get the woman." In the 1973 version, Crenna says, "I didn't get the money, and I didn't want the woman." Did the filmmakers completely misunderstand the entire point of the story? Or were they dumbing it down for a "television" audience?
This made-for-TV movie is a by-the-numbers rendition. All the sharp edge of the original is lost. The only stand-out, maybe, is Lee J. Cobb in the role made famous by Edward G. Robinson. But he cannot save the loss of intensity of the original. This 1973 boring remake is a forgettable TV-movie made probably by the same people who did "Gilligan's Island". They might as well have tried to remake "Citizen Kane" or "Gone with the Wind". If mediocrity is the best one can hope for, what's the point? The 1944 classic is a Film with a capital "F". This made-for-TV remake deserves an "F" grade, or, maybe a "D" for dumb.
Back to 1973. The remake has Crenna knock on the front door. Stanwyck's stand-in, Eggar, answers the door with a towel around her. There is no "appearance". She simply opens the door. The alluring superiority that grabs the audience at the first appearance of Stanwyck in 1944 is entirely absent in 1973. She opens the door with a towel around her. It may be sexy in a Charlie's Angels sort of way, but it's not nearly as mysterious. The filmmakers of the remake seem to misunderstand Wilder's point. The script may have said "Phyllis appears in towel" so the filmmakers of the remake simply follow the instructions and include the required towel. The point is not the towel. The point is the enigmatic quality of Phyllis, and the potential power she wields. Wilder gave her a towel to add to her mystique. The filmmakers of the remake gave her a towel because that's what Wilder did. And in the choice of shot, lost all of Phyllis' mystique.
Richard Crenna also seems miscast. He seems like he's "acting" and not really in the midst of the dilemma. Part of the problem is Crenna appears so much like a 70's actor. He can't get into the 1940's. When MacMurray first speaks into the microphone, sweat begins to drip from his face. No sweat on Crenna. And they also changed one of the crucial lines at the beginning. In the original, Neff says, "I didn't get the money, and I didn't get the woman." In the 1973 version, Crenna says, "I didn't get the money, and I didn't want the woman." Did the filmmakers completely misunderstand the entire point of the story? Or were they dumbing it down for a "television" audience?
This made-for-TV movie is a by-the-numbers rendition. All the sharp edge of the original is lost. The only stand-out, maybe, is Lee J. Cobb in the role made famous by Edward G. Robinson. But he cannot save the loss of intensity of the original. This 1973 boring remake is a forgettable TV-movie made probably by the same people who did "Gilligan's Island". They might as well have tried to remake "Citizen Kane" or "Gone with the Wind". If mediocrity is the best one can hope for, what's the point? The 1944 classic is a Film with a capital "F". This made-for-TV remake deserves an "F" grade, or, maybe a "D" for dumb.
Jack Smight directed this TV remake of the original 1944 film, based on James M. Cain's novel, that stars Richard Crenna as Walter Naff, an insurance salesman seduced by a client's wife named Phyllis Dietrichson(played by Samantha Eggar) to murder her husband for the insurance money, with the double indemnity clause giving them twice the payout, though Walter's boss Barton Keyes(played by Lee J. Cobb) is suspicious of Phyllis, convinced she murdered her husband with the help of another man, not knowing that it's Walter... Needless and ineffectual remake still has a good cast and story, but no atmosphere or point at all.
Did you know
- TriviaBilly Wilder (the co-writer and director of the original version, Double Indemnity (1944)) and Barbara Stanwyck (who played Phyllis in the original version) both saw the film in their respective homes when it broadcast. When it was over, Wilder immediately phoned Stanwyck, said, "Missy, they just didn't get it right," and hung up.
- ConnectionsVersion of Double Indemnity (1944)
Details
- Release date
- Country of origin
- Language
- Also known as
- Doble indemnización
- Filming locations
- Production companies
- See more company credits at IMDbPro
- Runtime
- 1h 14m(74 min)
- Sound mix
- Aspect ratio
- 1.33 : 1
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