Phantom Lady (1944)

Directed by Robert Siodmak; produced by Joan Harrison (associate producer)

Civil engineer Scott Henderson (Alan Curtis) comes home one evening to find his wife murdered, and the police with just one suspect: him. Speedily convicted of the crime and sentenced to die, Henderson’s only alibi is a stranger (Ann Terry), with whom he innocently spent time; he doesn’t know her name or her address, and all others who saw her deny her existence. His principal defender is his loyal secretary, Carol Richman (Ella Raines). Dead ends and deceit, a murderous psychopath, and a looming execution date don’t give Carol much to work with to free her boss.

Though not without flaws, principally in the plot, Phantom Lady is an interesting and enjoyable film noir. It’s strongest points lie in the actors and directing. Ella Raines is lesser known today than many leading ladies of the black-and-white movie era, but she’s under-rated, and shows herself most capable here, principally due to her character needing to find resources within herself that most characters don’t need. She is the star, though Franchot Tone receives top billing due to his greater prominence at the time.

In regard to the other performers, Phantom Lady is a good example of both rather ordinary, and unbelievable characters being given more interest and credibility by the actors portraying them. Curtis makes his fall-guy likeable, while Tone manages to overcome the stereotyped traits given his character.

Thomas Gomez provides the police detective he plays with a sinister aspect at first, only to suggest later that it is part of his professional persona; an intriguing angle to the tough-cop character. Elisha Cook Jr, a mainstay of film noir, has perhaps the most memorable part as a particularly odious version of the crime-story weasel. His smarmy jazz drummer’s opinion of himself is in inverse proportion to his genuine appeal.

The direction by Siodmak shows his style well. Its use of lighting to create scenes that are both complex and simple are a characteristic of the genre, and Siodmak was one of its principal proponents. Working with cinematographer Woody (Elwood) Bredell, with whom he would collaborate on The Killers (1946), Siodmak makes almost bare sets look menacing.

But in some scenes, it’s all the director, as during the jive session in a basement, which is so claustrophobic and frenetic that one can practically see the loud, blaring music. And Henderson’s initial police interrogation: the closing in of the detectives, grinning and malevolent, becomes reminiscent of a lynch-mob.

All of these advantages overcome the weak plot, which has several holes - such as the killer’s alibi, described by that person with obvious pride but in fact hardly an alibi at all - and the detriment of revealing the murderer too early in the film. The story comes from a novel by William Irish, a pseudonym of the prolific Cornell Woolrich, and may not have been one of his most inventive. Even so, the cinematic adaptation is entertaining, if not quite involving, and worth a look.

(Two notes that don’t really have a bearing on the recommendation of the film: one is that many American films that were made during World War Two, but are not war-related, simply ignore the conflict, as if the story occurred just before the war, or is set just after it. This one records the date of a trial as ‘1943’, yet no one is in uniform and travel is unrestricted; the war goes unmentioned. This I found unusual.

And a more personal observation: I think the fashions in the 1940s were among the best of the century. Men, dressed as they were then, would look quite snazzy today, and not unduly out of place in a business meeting, while women’s clothes were becoming to almost every age, size and shape. Except the hats. A hat figures in Phantom Lady - it is even billed as “The Phantom Hat” in the opening credits - and is as prepostrous as many of them were. Yet it is the desideratum of several women in the movie. The look of every age has its incongruities. Women’s hats take ‘top’ spot in the ‘40s.)