Out of the Past

“No one can be all bad.”

“She comes the closest.”

A quick break from Luddism to reflect a bit on last night’s film: Out of the Past.

BTW, it’s the only movie we will be able to watch together for about a ten-day period, considering work and other activity schedules. So yes, it was Mom’s pick.

Out of the Past is one of the earlier, and certainly formative American film noirs. Starring Robert Mitchum, Kirk Douglas and Jane Greer, it’s a typically dark story of bad judgment, passion and deceit. Quick summary:

The narrative features a combination of linear and flashback storytelling, and introduces the character of Jeff Bailey, a former private investigator who fled from New York after falling in love with Kathie, a girl he was hired to track down by an influential businessman called Whit. The businessman claimed the woman shot him and stole his money, but our protagonist simply stopped caring about the issue of her obvious guilt, completely bedazzled by her charms. The two of them run away together but get separated. Jeff now lives in a small town managing a gas pump and trying to start over with Ann, a really decent, good-hearted and innocent girl who knows nothing of his dark past and cares about him endlessly. The past, as it always does, comes to haunt him when one of the businessman’s henchmen arrives to town and insists Jeff goes to see his unpredictable employer, the man he betrayed and double-crossed. On their way to Whit, Jeff starts telling Ann his complete story, with the film ending up back in the present for its sad but necessary resolution.

Of course, the performances are crackerjack – Mitchum his laconic self, Douglas snappy and subtly fierce, Greer appropriately sultry and mysterious. One of the things I appreciated about this film was that the women – Greer and good girl Virginia Huston – were far less mannered in their performances than is typical for women in the period. Incidentally, about forty years ago, I knew an old priest who claimed to have dated Jane Greer as a young man. t was the only thing I knew about her until I saw this movie last night.

Anyway, as is usual with these films, besides everything else, one of the aspects of viewing I enjoy is just taking in another time – from what’s in the kitchens to the details of street scenes, to, for example in Out of the Past a short, but telling scene in a Black nightclub. It’s all a part of the history lesson for me, even if it’s only the movies.

Iconic cinematography, great shots (death by fly fishing, anyone?), fantastic dialogue, of course, hard to replicate here, because the power of much of it is tied to situations and imagery, as well as delivery. Mitchum’s I don’t care is a great example.

Two more excerpts – as someone entitled this clip, Mitchum demonstrating “how to be cool.”

Good stuff between Mitchum and Douglas here – I can’t embed this one. It’s good.

So what happens?

A fellow is trying to escape his past – but because of his own desires, he doesn’t. I won’t say he “can’t” – because in this world, you always have a choice. The battle is subtle though, because of Mitchum’s cool exterior – another actor might have been more demonstrative with the tension, but Mitchum is so inexpressive, it’s hard to tell whether he’s really falling for this dame again and all her obvious lies, or if he’s playing her to get what he wants- which is the point, I suppose.

As with this genre in general, at the center we have a guy struggling to deal with the consequences of past choices – but unsuccessfully, as he makes more and more bad ones. It seems to me that so much of noir, both print and in film, is about that tragic tension, in highly stylized terms.

Throughout the movie, Mitchum’s character is aware he’s being set up – he’s being framed. I think I’m in a frame…I don’t know. All I can see is the frame. I’m going in there now to look at the picture.

And what does it take to actually step out of the past and move on? It takes distance, it takes the ability to resist pretty intense temptation, it takes a kind of courage. And sometimes, as the end of this movie indicates, it takes a sad but almost necessary little white lie from a deaf-mute garage attendant who can set you on your way with just a nod…