Phantom Lady

Robert Siodmak does a fabulous job with this B noir starring Ella Raines, Franchot Tone, and Alan Curtis. And he does it, I might add, without a lot of help from his male actors, i.e., Curtis and Tone. It's Raines all the way, a pretty, leggy actress who for one reason or another never reached the status of some of her "noir" counterparts.

Siodmak's use of sex, light, shadows, and music is truly remarkable as he tackles this genre. The shadows, lighting effects, and camera angles are all effective. But the highlight of the film takes place in a nightclub with a very sexual drum riff by Elisha Cook, egged on by an excited Raines. It's this scene that brings "Phantom Lady" into new territory.

Siodmak's commitment to the material is matched only by Raines, who gives a sincere performance as a woman in love trying to save her man. Franchot Tone phoned this one in. Alan Curtis didn't seem upset that he might die and didn't seem happy that he lived. And he never, except for a brief moment in prison, seemed to be in love with Raines.

The amusing thing about many of these films is that, as World War II progressed, interest in psychiatry deepened. But often the terms were used incorrectly in films such as "Possessed," "Spellbound," and "The Greatest Show on Earth." Tone is called paranoid by Thomas Gomez - Tone probably has some paranoia attached to his disorder, but he appears to be closer to a psychopath. In actuality, as evidenced by his headaches, he may have had a brain tumor pushing against his brain.

Phantom Lady doesn't have the greatest plot, but it's well worth watching.

Film students and fans of film noir always hear about PHANTOM LADY and now that I've seen it I'm inclined to report that it's overrated. Though the premise is initially intriguing, it quickly accumulates so many plot holes that you instantly figure out who the murderer is. But this is an exercise in style, not content. Director Robert Siodmak saved the film by giving visual distinction to a poor script.

His training in the German Expressionist style makes for very striking images thoughout despite the low budget: dramatic contrasts between light and dark with simple, strong lighting effects never fail to provide interest and tension. And he goes a long way in suggesting the ethnic and racial mix of New York City in 1944 by his offbeat choice of extras and supporting players, most of whom are not the types you see in movies of the time. And the set of sculptor Franchot Tone's apartment complete with furniture and busts would be the envy of many a Soho or Tribeca resident in 2004.

In the lead, Ella Raines looks rather like a poor man's Gene Tierney. She is attractive and likable and you have no trouble maintaining interest in her, but she doesn't have much acting range, at least at this point in her career. Franchot Tone does a very professional job in an impossibly sketchy and ludicrous part, and Thomas Gomez is okay as the detective. As the wronged man, Alan Curtis provides his own visual interest via a strong jaw and broad shoulders, and an occasional hint of surliness makes his character more interesting.

But as others have indicated here, the single most surprising and effective scene is one where horny drummer Elisha Cook, Jr. takes Ella Raines to an after hours dive to show her what he's made of. Equating jazz and especially drumming with hot sex, Siodmak cross cuts between Cook's orgasmic frenzy at the drums (complete with a closeup insert of his crotch) with Ella seemingly transported as well, giving him the come-on, urging him to climax. It's the most overtly sexual scene I've ever seen in a '40s film and it's one you shouldn't miss.

So how did the producers get that orgasmic release scene past the censors. Sure, Carol (Raines) and Cliff (Cook) are about ten feet apart as he pounds on the drums while she sways back and forth in total sync, their faces contorted in frenzied delight. There's no guesswork here. It's as close to the real thing as the decade gets, and a masterpiece of simulated ecstasy. I wonder what the set was like while filming this.

The movie's a tight little thriller, helmed by noir master Robert Siodmak. So who is it that's framing architect Henderson (Curtis) for his wife's murder. By golly, the lovelorn Carol is going to find out even if it leads her down every dark, scary street on the studio lot. And once she dons her cheap hep-cat outfit, that's just where she's headed. But it's that frenzied jazz scene with Cliff that steals the show. Everything after seems something of an anti-climax. However, be sure to catch that beautifully modulated scene where Carol plies the emotionally disturbed Ann (Helm) for access to the incriminating ladies' hat. It's poignantly done, especially by actress Helm.

No doubt, this is one of the noir highpoints of the period, with dark symbolism and atmospheric shadows aplenty. Also, Raines gives a winning performance as the unstoppable Carol, while Tone wisely refuses to go over the top as the psychopath. On the other hand, it's a good thing we don't see much of Curtis in both a badly written and dimly performed part. I'm guessing Siodmak cared little how that particularly conventional role came across. Anyway, for fans of 40's noir, this Universal programmer remains a must-see.

'Phantom Lady' (retitled in my country as 'Witness wanted') is a little gem for anyone who appreciates 1940s film noir. It need not feature any of the big stars (Bogart, Cagney, Laughton, Ladd etc.), because its strengths are its excellent b/w photography and an interesting story that doesn't rely on predictable clichés of the genre.

Scott Henderson (Alan Curtis) is arrested for the murder of his wife. He is completely innocent, since he spent the evening at a theater with an unknown woman he invited after he met her at a bar (yes, his marriage has seen better days). But when asked for an alibi, not only that 'phantom lady' has disappeared, also several witnesses deny to have seen him with her. Thus, he's thrown into jail, and only his secretary (Ella Raines) and inspector Burgess (Thomas Gomez) don't give up the investigation. When Marlow (Franchot Tone), an old friend of Henderson, offers his assistance, the investigation is taking up speed, but meanwhile another witness was murdered. How can they defend Henderson without witnesses?

What I liked especially about 'Phantom Lady' is that there is no actual hero. Henderson is giving up, sits in his prison cell all day and doesn't show any hope. It's almost like he wants to be imprisoned for something he didn't do. So it's really the secretary who becomes the central character, driving the search for the real murderer. Quite unusual for the times and well worth watching.

Phantom Lady is quintessential Film Noir and a must-see for anyone who appreciates the genre. The film is not, nor does it aspire to be, a whodunit with an airtight plot, or a mystery-thriller that ends with an inconceivable twist as in the original novel. If that is what you want or expect, this is probably not your cup of tea. Although many great films considered part of the noir genre may include some of these elements, that's not what film noir is all about.

Film Noir is almost synonymous with Cornell Woolrich (William Irish), the author of the novel Phantom Lady. His novels and short stories are the source of an amazing number of screenplays and teleplays, including several noir and non-noir classics such as Hitchcock's Rear Window.

As a writer and persona, Woolrich was a uniquely noirish sort of guy. In fact, he wrote a series of six "Black" novels, all have been adapted to the screen or TV at least once, and some multiple times. Obviously, noir means black, and these black novels inspire great noir films.

Many Woolrich stories, Phantom Lady is one, revolve around impossible crimes. As sinister forces close in, his protagonists are powerless do anything but follow some diabolical labyrinth that defies understanding. No wonder his work is a perfect fit for film noir, which takes place in its own dark universe, where characters struggle against powerful and malevolent forces. Unfortunately, the nightmare scenarios created by Woolrich, enhanced by his own inimitable style of description, often seem to get lost in translation when brought to the silver screen. Although most of the films are very good, these adaptations tend to be very different from their literary source.

Not so with Phantom Lady – up to a point. Although details may vary, director Robert Siodmak cleverly and adroitly uses dazzling Expressionist visuals and quirky character performances to emulate the dreamlike quality of a Woolrich story. A good example is the incredible scene where Elisha Cook Jr. drums up the sexual overtones for Ella Raines.

Since our psychotic mastermind is revealed early on, there is no who-done-it mystery to distract the audience. The revelation allows a brilliant means of reworking the story into a tight and infinitely more interesting screenplay. Woolrich's original story follows a different approach, not confirming the killer until the end. Obviously, some treatments work better as a novel than a movie.

Often over-shadowed in the movies which he appears, this time Franchot Tone fits so perfectly into the role of Jack Marlow that we are captivated by his machinations, wondering where it will all end. All of the other characters are great and true to form as well. Raines is exceptionally strong in her portrayal of the somewhat naive love-struck secretary who won't give up.

True to a Woolrich novel, the genius of the film is in the telling of the story; more important than structure or even the ending. Although the outcome is the same, the ending is much different in the novel. Also, after the killer is revealed in the original story, there are 16 long pages, explaining every detail of every plot twist. Unfortunately, this approach is anticlimactic, and would never work as a film. Nevertheless, Siodmak is able to present a more convincing story with almost no explanation.

Any screen adaptation of a Woolrich story is always in jeopardy of being swallowed up by massive plot holes. After all, part of the charm of a Cornell Woolrich story is that you never really know if you dealing with reality, or trapped in a drug and alcohol induced nightmare.

In Phantom Lady, a character reveals, "… I'd been blazing a reefer already before it happened, and you know what that does to you." Woolrich certainly did know, and much of his literature is obviously inspired by mind-bending experiences. If a screenwriter and director can artfully breach the massive plot chasms of an original Woolrich story, yet still preserve the beauty as in Phantom Lady, the film becomes a feast for any Film Noir fanatic.