Silver Lode (1954)

Silver Lode (1954) is an anti-McCarthy communist movie industry witch-hunt scandal film noir western angry mob in a small town revenge cat and mouse Wile West thriller romance and adventure murder and public disorder noir inflected western Lin which wedding bells curdle into mob hysteria, authority masquerades as law, suspicion metastasizes, and a lone man is publicly lynched by paperwork, starring Dan Duryea, Lizabeth Scott, John Payne and a few other fifties film faithfuls, in a tidy rather false-looking western town set setting wrapped up in a Fourth of July barbecue, but did they have barbecues in the wild west?

The Razor's Edge (1946)

The Razor's Edge (1946) is an intergenerational returning veteran historical drama episodic male point of view romance adventure two and a half hour Somerset Maugham worldliness versus spirituality adaptation which was a huge romantic hit in its time, and which owes little to film noir, but offers a stable and repetitive cascading style of romance story that is a soft-soap kind of storytelling, offering the purest kind of escape known to 1946.

This is not a film noir, and yet within it lurks the genes of the style not quite activated, but present as the underscored factual spiritual well from which draws a grabbing interest, between the snogs and high-class encounters. In the 1940s they did not have slacker movies, but they did have loafer movies, and this is one.

The Boss (1956)

The Boss (1956) is a loveless marriage mean-ass mob boss epic biopic historical tale of cynical criminal cruelty, manipulation and lavish corrupt money making and spending, spanning the early to mid years of the twentieth century.

We’re talkin’ about a loveless marriage, a union colder than a corpse in a meat locker. Picture this: a dame and a fella, shackled together by vows they’d rather break than a stool pigeon under pressure. Ain’t no sweet nothings whispered here, just the hollow echo of empty promises.

The Boss stands out as a character-driven film within its frame of historical epic-ish film noir, focusing on Brady's (John Payne) descent into corruption and subsequent downfall. 

The film opens with the following written prologue: 

"The boss is a creature of no political party. He appears in the wake of public apathy fostering crime and corruption. Years ago an outraged citizenry arose against him. Only you, a vigilant people, can combat the menace of a boss." 

Larceny (1948)

Larceny (1948) is a con-man swindler romance drama film noir starring John Payne, Joan Caulfield, Shelley Winters and Dan Duryea.

Directed by George Sherman, this high period noir is a lot of fun — if it's not Dan Duryea's paranoia about his gal Tory being around the other members of his all male gang — and if it's not Tory's own fast-cracking dangerous barbed wire one liners — or John Payne's noir-like descent from hangdog swindler to deadbeat romantic lover, unable to fulfil any heroic role at all, either as good guy or villain — neither suit this bird.

The sacrifice of trust is at the heart of the con, as is the false identity of a man whom it appears does not even know who he is to begin with — who he loves — or even which side he might be on. The essence of film noir perhaps lies within in the short journey there is between dreams and disillusionment. 

Hidden Fear (1957)

Hidden Fear (1957) is something of a curiosity at the tail end of the film noir cycle, and that curiosity largely arises from the fact that it is set in Denmark.

The logic behind this is not clear, and some of the film in general suffers from this lack of clarity too.

Some of the more obvious film noir strings are not pulled, and were it not for John Payne in the lead role, bullying and slapping his way around the Danish capital, there may not be much noir left at all to enjoy.

Hidden Fear is a linear thriller, which does its best to make a virtue of its location shooting, but does not manage to raise any particular tension, or find any depth in its stroll through the Danish underworld.

99 River Street (1953)

Down at 99 River Street (1953) meet furious and and pent-up ex-boxer Ernie Driscoll; his devious but gorgeous wife Pauline; Ernie's wife's lover, a sleazy diamond thief whose got a new line in murder; and Ernie's old pal Linda James, an aspiring actress who, almost in the style of Team America ― uses her acting powers to solve the crime.

There, down at 99 River Street is where these all converge, with of course the cops and the diamond fencing gang, who are an especially brutal coterie of evil, with big spade hands for chopping necks and revolvers for the killing slug.

In for the worst weekend of his life, angry former boxer and now full time cabbie Ernie Driscoll lives life on  ropes, when he's not reliving the fatal moment in the ring where he was defeated, felled and retired, all in one series of sucker punches to the eye and gut.

It's likely one of the most definitive film noir set-ups going —  the ex-boxer, living in the shadows of society, struggling with women, struggling with the past, and struggling with crime which seems to be all around him.

We are all in to witness the fantastic escapades that ensue, when Ernie Driscoll takes yet another sucker punch to the guts.

It is supreme film noir fayre.

The Crooked Way (1949)

The Crooked Way, 1949, (starring John Payne, director Robert Florey) isn’t one of the celebrated film noirs.

It’s not the most convincing film of its time either, and fails to deliver the levels of paranoia that the great film noir dramas do.

It doesn’t feature a detective but follows the story of a much truer noir archetype — the WWII veteran, and his struggle to readjust to civilian life.

It is far from dull however, and perhaps The Crooked Way should be better known than it is, as it is one of the truest expressions of another 1940s Hollywood obsession — amnesia.

Boy they loved amnesia back then. It isn't just amnesia's power as a plot device. That we could almost taken for granted. What is truthful about amnesia in the forgetful halls of cinema, is that the present wipes away the past, and the past is a political battleground.

Forgetfulness is what cinema is all about, and by the 1940s the pictures had become the escapist medium par excellence, and Hollywood's thrillers sometimes reflected this.

Kansas City Confidential (1952)

Kansas City Confidential (1952) is a classic no-honour-among-thieves heist patsy on the case film noir, starring John Payne as a determined innocent man, trailing the gangster crew who set him up for a heist he had nothing to do with.

This all time classic slice of Columbia noir has plenty of malice crammed into the close ups of its prolific baddies’ sweaty, greedy faces.

Director Phil Karlson made some pretty smart crime flicks in his time, such as 99 River Street and Scandal Sheet, and while it has cheap moments, Kansas City Confidential may be the sweatiest of all film noirs, with several gallons of perspiration being shown on the flow in each act.

Sheer noir entertainment awaits in the evil forms of some great noir character actors — Jack Elam, Lee Van Cleef and Neville Brand are an excellent trio of baddies, each with their own fatal foible.