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Preminger’s sensibility clashed with the shadows. His modus operandum, like a smoke-filled room, ran counter to the polished veneer of society. Daisy Kenyon, a dame caught in the crossfire, danced on the edge of desire and danger.
The two leading men, a fedora and a military hat, did anybody write a book about the hat motif and codes and modes of symbology in noir. They had better had. Noir needs hat analysis. Hat analysis may be brought to bear in any and many a film noir, a good example we could enjoy might be Ramrod, starring Lana Turner.
Daisy, caught in their web, teetered on the precipice of her own emotions. This analysis draws from the film’s themes and character dynamics, emphasizing Preminger’s unique approach to love and relationships. The 1940s grip n kiss was fully evident in this production starring Henry Fonda and Joan Crawford:
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In the long discussions we had over the decades about Otto Preminger’s films, there always existed a pervasive misconception regarding his objectivity. Contrary to this notion, not every character in Preminger’s cinematic universe is afforded the opportunity to be fully understood.
Take, for instance, O’Mara’s hapless father-in-law, Coverly (portrayed by Nicholas Joy). While one might, in a magnanimous mood, extend condescending pity toward him due to his spinelessness, an equally valid attitude is one of contempt. Notably, other non-sympathetic characters populate Preminger’s oeuvre, including Rory Calhoun’s Harry Weston in River Of No Return, George C. Scott’s Claude Dancer in Anatomy of A Murder, and Darren McGavin’s Louie in Man With The Golden Arm.
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What a film an excellent trip of tempers and times, and darkness and crazed romantic optimism, and melodrama, played rather pleasingly from all, they are for sure exceptional actors that make up the bones of this noir paradise. The paradise itself is a moral tale of love and sex and pushiness, and most tellingly of all what passes for female independence in 1947, and as sur-text, as an object lesson, all of the difficulty is wrapped up in the performance of and story of Daisy, by Joan Crawford.
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| Face-squash assault from Dana Andrews to Joan Crawford in Daisy Kenyon (1947) |
That idea about Daisy Kenyon sheds light on why this film has recently experienced a resurgence in reputation. Remarkably, over the years, many reviewers and cinephiles have dismissed it as a kind of run of the mill women’s picture or just another vehicle for Joan Crawford. However, I am aware of devoted Crawford enthusiasts who eagerly anticipate the iconic moment when Lucille calls and Daisy emphatically instructs Angelus to hang up, oh yes.
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| Commercial artist noir of the 1940s in Daisy Kenyon (1947) |
Dana Andrews’s portrayal of Dan exemplifies the film’s sophistication. His multifaceted behaviour—shifting yet not disparate—desperate and shifty—domineering and charming and angry—and loving like a madman—serves as a focal point.
Dan’s overall lack of self-awareness contrasts intriguingly with the enigmatic Peter’s self-conscious, calculated conduct. In a sense, their dynamic mirrors the classic struggle of Id versus Ego. Dan, brimming with machismo and brusqueness, effortlessly intimidates those around him—his frequently hysterical desperate much-maligned wife, his daft wee impressionable daughters, and painfully ineffectual father-in-law who is also his law partner.
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| Dana Andrews, Joan Crawford and Henry Fonda in Daisy Kenyon (1947) |
Put like that you can see how very noir this production is. He could not be more trapped, and trapped too within the mode of the lousy husband. Even the secretaries in his office receive his glib offhanded treatment.
This arrogance makes it riveting to watch Dan clash with Peter, who initially appears as spineless as Dan’s father-in-law. Yet, when Dan asks Peter to sign the divorce papers, he is confounded to discover Peter’s unexpected fortitude. Dan’s instinct-driven pursuit of love contrasts with Peter’s cerebral approach, both contingent on Daisy’s transient moods and reactions—a woman emotionally confused but far from naive.
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| Tito Vuolo shows up in Daisy Kenyon (1947) |
The quiet kind of growing alarm and horror we witness—the struggle for consistent love—is more relatable to most audiences than the overt horrors of blood-curdling monsters or combat. We have all sought the sanctuary promised by romantic relationships, and Daisy Kenyon respects both love and lovers precisely because it diverges from conventional cinematic portrayals.
Rather than fixating solely on the objective, Preminger and his collaborators delve into the search itself, unflinchingly presenting the instability and challenges inherent in seeking love. As we embark on this quest, we confront our aloneness—an unsettling reality that Daisy Kenyon unflinchingly portrays.
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| John Garfield in Daisy Kenyon (1947) |
Newspaper reporters Walter Winchell, Leonard Lyons, and Damon Runyon, along with actor John Garfield, make cameo appearances in the film.
The scene—the smoky bar, the clinking glasses—played out like a jazz riff. Three souls entangled, their secrets hidden in the curl of cigarette smoke. Henry Fonda’s Peter, a man with a past, leaned in close. Was he a lover or a betrayer? The dame wasn’t sure, and neither was I.
But it was the finale that sealed their fates. A three-cornered confrontation at the Cape Cod house, waves crashing outside like the beat of a broken heart. Daisy’s choice hung in the air, a pendulum swinging between love and survival. Preminger and David Hertz, the puppet masters, pulled the strings, but Daisy held the knife.
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| Henry Fonda and the horror of love in Daisy Kenyon (1947) |
Daisy Kenyon (1947) — a film noir symphony of desire, deception, and destiny. Without that sequence, it would’ve been a different tune altogether. The picture, like a shot of bourbon, lingered long after the credits
Dan, played by Dana, is a lousy husband. He's a lawyer tycoon, all Washington and braggartism, he is married to a wife that he belittles and undermines, and her unhappiness is probably his and down to him. She is violent with the children, and he steps in to parent in the half an hour he is at home each day.
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| Studio summer in Daisy Kenyon (1947) |
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| Studio winter in Daisy Kenyon (1947) |
Toward the film’s climax, Daisy is pushed to her limits by Dan’s relentless chase. Shortly after returning to her Cape house, she receives a call from Dan, who informs her that he and Peter are on their way over. Disturbed, she hangs up, but the phone starts ringing again, each ring louder than the last. In a dramatic close-up shot of the phone, Daisy flees the house, jumps into her car, and races down a slippery road. The sound of the ringing phone continues to haunt the scene.
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| Fight scene in Daisy Kenyon (1947) |
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| Ruth Warrick in Daisy Kenyon (1947) |
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Suddenly, Daisy’s car skids and flips into a snowdrift. Miraculously unharmed, she makes her way back home on foot, only to find Dan and Peter nonchalantly playing cards. Empowered by the ordeal, Daisy finally gathers the strength to end her relationship with Dan once and for all.
There's an effort made to sell the soul of this film to the public, blast the news of the deep triangular love affair and snogging melodrama, and thus summing this effort into lobby-card-ready phrases, the team provided the following hard-riding taglines:
Joan Crawford in Daisy Kenyon (1947) "I DON'T BELONG TO ANY MAN"! (original print ad-all caps)
Two kinds of men...two kinds of love...in her life...and when she chooses, it must be forever! (original print ad)
These Three Together...IN A LOVE ONLY TWO CAN SHARE! (original poster)
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Dan is a solid noir character because he wants it all and winds up with nothing. He has the wife and the family and the career, but he truly wishes for more, like the noir sap he is. And for the rest of his life, he will not have the love of his life, and nor will he have his wife, and the children he has been conspicuously loving, over-loving it is now clear . . . by which we would mean a surface affection in place of the constancy that might be a more realistic view of love.
I live in the United States. I originally was born in Vienna, and lived there a long time. In the United States, one of the most precious rights we have is the right of free expression. I have had trouble with censorship, with the small movie, The Moon Is Blue, because in 1953 people objected to the word “‘virgin,”’ which is hard to believe. I could have easily made a few cuts and compromised, but I feel that in our own fields, as motion picture directors, newspapermen, writers, whatever we are, we have not only the right, but the duty to defend this right of free expression; because if this right deteriorates, that is the first step to dictatorship, to totalitarian government, and no totalitarian government, whether on the Right or on the Left, could ever exist with its citizens having the right to speak freely. I think it is very important for us to fight for this right and that is why I have always fought censorship and won. There is no censorship in the United States. I hope it will stay like this. That is my answer to questions about censorship. My views have never changed.
Otto Preminger,
Ontario Film Theatre,
Toronto, October 1970.
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Daisy Kenyon (1947)
Directed by Otto Preminger
Genres - Drama, Romance | Release Date - Dec 25, 1947 | Run Time - 99 min. | Daisy Kenyon (1947) on Wikipedia
