The Blue Dahlia (1946)

Directed by George Marshall; produced by John Houseman

A U.S. Navy flyer, Johnny Morrison (Alan Ladd), newly returned from the war, finds some unpleasant surprises upon his arrival at home. His wife, Helen (Doris Dowling), has a bad drinking problem, an apathetic attitude toward her marriage and at least one boyfriend. Willing to work through their problems, Morrison walks out when he learns that his spouse was responsible for the death of their son, whom he thought had perished from an illness. The couple’s arguments – not to mention a service pistol left at the scene – are reasons why the police start looking for Morrison when Helen is discovered dead.

The Blue Dahlia has some high-powered advantages: George Marshall had been directing in Hollywood for thirty years by this time (and would continue directing for almost thirty more); producer Houseman would later head the Julliard School’s Drama Department; the original script was by mystery-writer Raymond Chandler, and the stars were the popular duo of Alan Ladd and Veronica Lake, who had already made two hit films together. Next to these, the problems are small, though significant.

The mystery is a good one, with several suspects and red herrings. Ladd is led on a trail by clues that send him in circles, reinforcing his conviction of one party’s guilt in particular. The dialogue is even better, especially when between Ladd and Lake, as in their first meeting.

The actual story falters a bit, relying on the unlikely coincidence that Lake – playing the wife of the man having an affair with Ladd’s wife – meets Ladd entirely by chance. Coincidences in dramas are acceptable, if they are rarely and cleverly used; in mysteries, they border on cheating – but Chandler wasn’t a fan of the British-style of mystery and its rules about playing fair. And the ending, though satisfying, could have been better.

Another problem is that Ladd’s is not as interesting a character as he should be. His is well written, and the performance is, as usual with the actor, convincing, in an understated manner. But Lake’s is a slightly more complex personality; a house detective (Will Wright) is annoying but fully three-dimensional, and I found the principal suspect, played by the versatile Howard Da Silva, the most intriguing, as he could be a real villain or just a rather sad man trying to stay ahead of his mistakes.

Nonetheless, The Blue Dahlia works. It captures the flavour of Los Angeles in the immediate post-World War Two era, its crowded hotels (due to returning servicemen), the carefree hedonism, and the kind of ‘now what?’ mood that must have struck many in those anti-climactic days.

The characters, though some, as described above, are better written than others, are no less involving for that, and the story, despite its flaws, carries the viewer through to its conclusion without allowing for distraction. The Blue Dahlia is typical of the higher-grade film noir produced by a higher-grade team in 1940s Hollywood.