Feminism and Society through Melodrama and Noir

Walter Neff gazing at Phyllis Detrichson.

With noir films like Double Indemnity having such a sadistic female protagonist, can the film itself be considered feminist? Claire Johnston states, “Feminist cinema must include a challenge to the fetishistic and sadistic aspects of the scopic drive which Laura Mulvey demonstrates so convincingly.” Theorist Mulvey also pushes that the gaze in cinema, the power by men looking at and watching women, ultimately controls women. Noir contains several men “gazing,” such as Walter Neff being obsessed with Phyllis Dietrichson and staring at her constantly. That is when noir is kind; often there are scenes in which  male characters outright slap women -- or do worse. It would seem that film noir is not feminist in its approach toward women. However, noir is not truly misogynistic, though its characters might be. It is not the characters, but the politics that define the movie.
 
 Films often have a distinctive masculine or feminine appeal. This often has more to do with marketing. Masculine films could be action films, film noirs, and sports films. Whereas feminine films can be considered romantic comedies and melodramas. Without debating the semantics of masculine and feminine I wish to point out the differences between Film Noir and Melodramas, and the social commentary that they carry with them. The commentary that these two genres have upon society reflects mostly upon the gender roles of society. Both noir and melodramas reflect the poor treatment that women have in society, but they also show that in fact everyone is stuck within tight boundaries of society regardless of sex. The genres also blur the personal with the political, because both are interrelated.
 
Margarethe von Trotta, Douglas Sirk, and Rainer Werner Fassbinder are all directors of Melodramatic films, and all originate from Germany. They are considered by many to be auteur directors as well, by putting a piece of themselves into their films. Douglas Sirk was influenced by German Expressionistic cinema in his use of framing. Framing was also used by Fassbinder and von Trotta for the use of isolating individuals from the collective group representing society, or entrapping a character. Shohini Chaudhuri writes about Sirk’s influence on Fassbinder, “Sirkian influences also inspire Ali’s mise-en-scene: pools of saturated color in the Asphalt Pub scenes; the use of mirrors, doorways, partitions, and grilles to internally frame characters within the cinematic frame.”2 Von Trotta’s mise-en-scene is described then in a similar way. “Women looking through windows or waiting at windows frequently appear in von Trotta’s films at key moments in characters’ psychological development and their attempts to relate to another--a sister or a friend.” The framing techniques enhance the story being told emotionally by the filmmakers in their films. 

Ali: Fear Eats the Soul. Here we see the members of the Asphalt pub gazing at Emmi.

Here Emmi is juxtaposed so we feel her isolation against the rest of the group.

Film Noir functions much in the same fashion. The directors of Film Noir either had a background with, or were influenced by German Expressionist cinema as well as the three previously described melodramatic directors. Shots in such films as Robert Aldrich’s Kiss Me Deadly often feature a lone wolf male protagonist against the world. One shot in Kiss Me Deadly features protagonist Mike Hammer being surrounded by a large staircase. Visually, this makes us uneasy by enveloping him in a swirling image. Later we find out that he really is in over his head and caught in the middle of a political storm much bigger than he is. Here is another character who sets out into the world, only to be enveloped by it.
 
Both Melodramas and Film Noirs feature protagonists that are trying to live by their basic wants or moral codes but find themselves in some way up against society. Chaudhuri states that Sirk’s “melodramas gave Fassbinder a model for making films that could perform ‘a moral critique of an immoral society’” In the concepts of the individual against society, and society’s moral corruption, we come to the point where these two genres mix and engage. Not every Film Noir or Melodrama has societal commentary that is a conscious effort by the filmmakers. Nor do Film Noirs and Melodramas all have the same commentary.
 
However, regardless of the filmmakers’ intentions, many Film Noirs and Melodramas comment on gender issues. We see this with the femme fatale in noirs, and by the use of a repressed female protagonist in melodramas. Both types of characters can be described in many cases as a female individual who is trying to advance or get ahead in the world on either a grand or micro scale. The femme fatale does so by unscrupulous methods and is therefore ultimately punished. Whereas the melodramatic female character receives societal punishment at some point, she is  sometimes also rewarded by a deux ex machina.
 
Such an ending occurs in Sirk’s All That Heaven Allows, so that we gain the catharsis of the protagonist’s happy ending, but we acknowledge that only by an act of God was this allowed to happen in a morally bankrupt society. Fassbinder took it further by taking out the cathartic ending. Chaudhuri writes, “He designed his films’ closures to create another ‘ending’ in the audience’s head-to make it obvious to them that they must change their lives, even if society restricts their choices.”4 In either case the films are designed so that on some level we are aware of societal flaws and attempt to change them. Noir can also draw attention to societal troubles, Double Indemnity is conscious of the fact that Phyllis Dietrichson somewhat manipulated by society to the point she becomes a cold blooded murderer.

At the end of All the Heaven Allows Jane Wyman ends up with Ron Kirby. Yet the mise-en-sene of this scene makes her feel trapped. She is on the inside looking out, and the window serves to act as prison bars. So while it is a touching scene, it also becomes social commentary on the woman's place in society.

The background of the German melodramas and film noir show common similarities. Both are deeply rooted in a postwar atmosphere. Von Trotta and Fassbinder work in family histories that are related to the rise of the Nazi party. To them family history and the rise of the party are rooted in both the personal and the political. “Von Trotta views the political and social reality of postwar and contemporary Germany through the lens of personal relations and family dramas. For Fassbinder, too, politics and power relationships begin at home and are negotiated in interpersonal relations rather than in abstract political debates or historical conflicts.” In noir heroes are often returned war veterans trying to find their place back home. Often they cannot find their place. The world has changed, and it no longer needs them. Paul Schrader states that in this world, “one finds that the upward mobile forces of the thirties have halted; frontierism has turned to paranoia and claustrophobia.” In both melodrama and noir there is an overriding sense of pessimism for the world and mankind.
 

In Mariane and Julianne the two sisters become separated by political views. As they separate ideologically, they become separated physically as well. After one's arrest they are separated by a window and can no longer touch. In another a reflection of one moves over the face of the other, but as soon as it is aligned it disappears off the glass, representing their movement from each other.

Pessimism arises because it points to the fallacies of the world and attempts to get us to create change. While violence and the male gaze occur in the movie, viewers should not allow them to distract from the overall message of the film. Summing up Fassbinder’s thoughts Chaudhuri states, “‘the cultural representations through which we see and are seen’ should be the focus of our political struggle, not the gaze.” The message of the film should be at the forefront when viewed, because events that occur in the film exist to support the message. The message is political, going back to von Trotta’s view of the interrelation of the personal and political. Many noirs and many melodramas are very feminist in their politics, but are aimed at different audiences. I enjoy both and find them entertaining, because they portray similar outlooks of society.

Bibliography:
Chaudhuri, Shohini. “Ali: Fear Eats the Soul." Film Analysis: A Norton Reader. Ed. Geiger, Jeffrey and Rutsky, R.L. New York: W.W. Norton and Company, 2005.
Haynes, Todd. Far from Heaven, Safe, Superstar: The Karen Carpenter Story; Three Screen Plays. New York: Grove Press, 2003.
Johnston, Claire. “Classic Hollywood Cinema.” Movies and Methods Volume II. Ed. Nichols, Bill. University of California Press: Berkeley and Los Angeles, 1985.
Rueschmann, Eva. “The Politics of Intersubjectivity.” Sisters on the Screen. Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 2000.
Schrader, Paul. "Notes on Film Noir." Film Theory and Criticism. Ed. Braudy, Leo and Cohen, Marshall. 7th ed. New York: Oxford University Press, 2009.

*Note: It should be noted that both Noir and Melodramas had a deep influence by the German Expressionist film movement. Sirk himself came from that background, as well as several other directors and cinematographers of the time. I failed to mention this in the text, and it bears an important part explaining the style similarities of the two genres and their social commentary.

Hello (The Long) Goodbye

Robert Altman’s the Long Goodbye dances the line of paying homage to noir and parodying noir. Modern audiences would consider it more homage, whereas a film like The Big Lebowski would be considered more of a parody. The Long Goodbye follows Phillip Marlowe as he tries to comprehend the apparent suicide of his friend, Terry Lennox, following the murder of Lennox’s wife. Many of the elements of a classic noir are there; the police are no help to him, the mob comes in for a debt from Lennox, a crooked doctor comes in, and there is a form of a femme fatale; but the film never fully fits into the noir box. In The Long Goodbye Marlowe is described by Altman as “Rip Van Marlowe”; meaning that it is as if Marlowe just woke up from the classic noir period and goes about his business. We watch in the film a person who is a moral relic of a bygone era, and Altman plays with this idea throughout the film. The Long Goodbye becomes its own sub-genre, neither homage nor parody to the films of a bygone era.

Here you can get a hint of the bleached out look of the film.

   Though the film technique is not like that of classic noir - such as complex mise-en-sene, dark shadows, low key lighting, low and high shots; the film still retained some elements of classic noir. Naremore highlights stylistic differences when he says, “In place of carefully framed, angular compositions, it uses a roving, almost arbitrary series of panning and zooming shots that continually flatten perspective.”1 Noir is often described as being confusing, slow, and dreamlike, and in the Long Goodbye I felt these elements were retained. The dreamlike quality comes from obviously its slower pace, but also the fact that the film itself is bleached out. Altman said “I wanted to give the film the soft, pastel look you see on old postcards from the 1940s.”2 This makes the film feel like a forgotten memory one recalls in their dream. At times the film felt as if it were going nowhere, with several plot lines that I thought would never be tied up. I have faith in the plot structure of classic noir that their plots will be tied up, regardless of how convoluted they are. I suppose due to the chaotic nature of Altman films, I gave in to the complexity and felt that the subplots only loosely tied together through theme, and seldom wrap up together in the end. My initial confusion was probably also tied into the slow nature of the movie, wherein I felt frustrated with Marlowe’s slow attempt to solve his friend’s murder, and the characters that I initially felt were unrelated to the central problem, and that their problems took him further from the truth. However, Altman’s approach toward a noir detective story made me forget that everything ties together, and most loose ends are solved.

Here is Elliot Gould as Phillip Marlowe.

 Elliot Gould plays Phillip Marlowe in The Long Goodbye. Marlowe’s friend, Terry Lennox, tells Marlowe that he is a born loser. Perhaps that’s why not every loose end is tied up at the end. Marlowe points out the fact that his cat runs away, and he never did find it at the end. Altman was trying to make a point here about the morals and times of the past through the use of Marlowe. Elizabeth Ward wrote, “The film noir protagonist had steadily lost any ability to effect change in a modern world, and this increasing powerlessness is correlative of diminishing social morality.”3 Marlowe does not stop any corruption or evil from occurring. When the gangster Marty Augustine smashes his girlfriend.s face Marlowe just watches, and when the novelist Roger Wade walks into the ocean and drowns, Marlowe cannot find Wade in the water to save him. Humphrey Bogart played Marlowe with swagger and a cool edge; it could be said of Gould’s Marlowe that he is more passive. Gould passively watches and asks questions, but the only action that he takes is in the end is when he finds his friend Terry and shoots him for his betrayal.

Marlowe being a wise guy with the police by putting finger ink all over his face.

    Gould’s portrayal in many ways is in contrast with Raymond Chandler’s original version of Marlowe. Naremore points out that Marlowe is “a mumbling private eye who incessantly talks to himself.”4 Gould’s Marlowe does talk a lot, constantly throughout the film making smart-aleck remarks. Not every line is gold, but I enjoy a character that says what he wants to despite his surroundings, as shown in scenes in the police interrogation room and when Marlowe is held at gunpoint by the mobsters. Despite the fact that he is under pressure or in physical danger he cracks wise, perhaps as a way to deal with pressure. At times Marlowe is painful to watch because I had no idea why he didn’t speak up directly to those around him. Bogart’s Marlowe gives the impression that he is almost always has some upper hand or that he is confident enough to get the job done. That doesn’t come across as well to me with Gould’s portrayal. Although Gould does not seem to have Bogart’s confidence, his is a more accurate portrayal of a person solving a mystery. He is swimming up the creek without a paddle, with several other components in play that either purposefully or mistakenly lead him away from figuring everything out.

Is Eileen Wade a Femme Fatale? 

   The themes of corruption and misogyny that often shown in classic noir exist in The Long Goodbye, although shown differently than in classic noir. Naremore states that “the coke-bottle attack and the running gag about the stoned, bare-breasted girls who live in an apartment across from Marlowe-seem designed to exploit a new style of misogyny and violence under the cover of a smugly superior attitude toward private-eye stories.”5 The police are portrayed differently in the film too, where many film noirs portray police as being corrupt and greedy. Ward, however, states that “the ‘modern’ corruption of the police in The Long Goodbye is not caused by individual ambition and greed but by overload and burn-out.”6 We can look at these statements and make a number of assumptions: that our viewpoints on corruption and misogyny have changed including their starting factors, or that the methods in which that they are displayed have changed.

    Altman’s the Long Goodbye contains many of the elements of noir, but like many neo-noirs never fully embraces all the elements. Times had changed, and the filmmakers and their techniques had changed with them. Altman wanted the film to look like a faded postcard, a forgotten memory, as opposed to noir’s highly stylized and graphic shots. While the world became more effective in fighting crime and became more feminist, corruption and misogyny still lingered. Maybe due to the serious nature of the content in The Long Goodbye, it can’t be taken as parody, but because of Marlowe’s attitude throughout the film it can’t be taken seriously either. Personally, I wish that more films would dance the line of humor and seriousness. However, as we see with this film, audiences often have trouble distinguishing between the two. So The Long Goodbye becomes neither homage nor parody, but stands on its own as a different kind of noir.

1.) Naremore, James. More than Night: Film Noir in Its Contexts, Updated and Expanded Edition (Kindle Locations 2654-2655). Kindle Edition.
2.) Altman, Robert, and David Thompson. Altman on Altman. London: Faber and Faber, 2006.77
3.) Ward, Elizabeth. "The Post-Noir P.I.: The Long Goodbye and Hickey and Boggs" Film Noir Reader. Ed. Silver, Alain and Ursini, James. 8th ed. New York: Limelight Editions, 2006. 237
4.) Naremore, James. More than Night: Film Noir in Its Contexts, Updated and Expanded Edition (Kindle Location 2654). Kindle Edition.
5.) Naremore, James. More than Night: Film Noir in Its Contexts, Updated and Expanded Edition (Kindle Locations 2665-2666). Kindle Edition.
6.) Ward, Elizabeth. "The Post-Noir P.I.: The Long Goodbye and Hickey and Boggs" Film Noir Reader. Ed. Silver, Alain and Ursini, James. 8th ed. New York: Limelight Editions, 2006. 240

Control in Gamespace

McKenzie Wark wrote the book Gamespace, drawing parallels between our reality and the beloved video games of our society. In it he drew many life comparisons, about the fomulation of our "gamespace" and ourselves, and the need for video games. Video games, he feels, are necessary because they give us options where movies do not, but unlike reality conform to fairness toward the rules. However, as video games have become more complex and advanced they become more chaotic like this world.


Yet this world is a game. As we play video games and develop theories on how to overcome the obstacles--gamer theory--we also develop theories on how to overcome obstacles in everyday life--gamespace. Gamespace is the world in which we live in. As we continue to develop theories for gamespace, the gamespace changes. McKenzie Wark argues that games like “The Sims” are so popular because this world does not follow the rules it gives. McKenzie writes in Gamer Theory, “If it is a choice between ‘The Sims’ as a real game and gamespace as a game of the real, the gamer chooses to stay in The Cave and play games. The contradiction is that for there to be a game which is fair and rational there must be a gamespace which is neither.”(49) In “The Sims” the player follows the rules given to get to achieve career goals they wish to succeed in. However, in the real world many of us have followed the rules only to get passed over. When I was in Retail Management I followed all the rules to move up the ladder, however, because of office politics that were beyond my reach, another person was given a promotion that was meant for me. This is the gamespace that we live in, a place that contains shifting rules, which do not always result in predictable success.

So what then allows for success in society? Wark writes, “Here is the guiding principle of a future utopia, now long past: ‘To each according to his needs; from each according to his abilities.’ In gamespace, what do we have? An atopia, a placeless, senseless realm where quite a different maxim rules: ‘From each according to their abilities--to each a rank and score.’ Needs no longer enter into it. Not even desire matters.”(21) As if we were in a game, our abilities best determine who we are in society. Our everyday life is like a game; we are driven to compete and succeed, to win against all others. “Gamespace wants us to believe we are all nothing but gamers now, competing not against enemies of class or faith or nation but only against other gamers.”(24)

Those who have control over the gamespace wish to keep control; they are the military-entertainment complex. Like a video game, gamespace and its inherent rules can grow stale and boring. Wark states “Boredom becomes pervasive, uncontainable--a real threat.” Wark continues that the military-entertainment complex displaces the boredom of one game into another, always striving to keeping players entertained. “Boredom with any particular game is always displaced onto another game, before it calls into question the imperfections of gamespace as a poor excuse for how one could live and labor among these richly productive and seductive lines.”(173) The enemy of the game is boredom because it recalls for gamers the fact that “the most deluded of gamers can eventually realize that their strivings have no purpose, that all they have achieved is a hollow trophy, the delusion of value, a meaningless rank built on an arbitrary number.”(166) Wark wrote this examining gamers and games, but in gamespace this can be applied as well. The accumulation of products, goods, money, and land all amount to a hollow trophy. Society has to change the rules of gamespace, the same rules that frustrate us and passed me over for a promotion, otherwise the players may leave or try to change the gamespace.


http://www.amazon.com/Gamer-Theory-McKenzie-Wark/dp/0674025199/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1331713647&sr=8-1

When Harry Met Holly: Existential Crisis Portrayed in The Third Man

Existentialism is one of the philosophies of choice for Film Noir, and The Third Man presents us with an existential crisis. The Third Man, written by Graham Greene, is a Noir world that exists in what critics term “Greeneland.” James Naremore describes Greeneland as “a world of dingy rooming houses, canned fish, drooping aspidistras, and doomed characters.” This is the world that Holly Martins lives. Martins is of the Noir world, an alienated “Hemingway hero.” American in a British-occupied Vienna. He arrives to find out that his friend, Harry Lime, whom he has come to visit at Lime’s request has died. Martins investigates foul play against Lime, and discovers that his friend is not who he thought him to be. Martins becomes confused in a world where not only he, but we the audience, do not speak the native tongue. His previous beliefs of right and wrong, good and evil, are challenged. Martins eventually must reconcile his beliefs and act on his beliefs to be authentic with himself. The Third Man shows us, using the film language attributed towards Film Noir, the existential struggle that Martins must go through as he learns the true nature and identity of his best friend.

Martins tries to understand his world but he is constantly befuddled as he gains new revelations. He is not cool like Sam Spade in The Maltese Falcon; instead he is a schmuck in way over his head. Martins is not clever, either; for most of the first half of the film he believes that the police have murdered his friend Harry Lime. In most Noir films it would be typical for the police to be bungling, incompetent, or even the killers. However, the character Colonel Calloway is competent and presents Martins with empirical evidence that it is Lime who is immoral. With this, Martins begins to believe that things were not as he perceived them. Martins gets drunk repeatedly throughout the film, and his testimony is not taken credibly by others because of it. Robert G. Porfirio writes, “The Hemingway hero is a person ‘to whom something has been done’; that most central to this hero is the loss, and an awareness of it.” What Martins has lost is his friend, first in a literal way, and then in a spiritual way. As much of a schmuck as Martins is, he means well, and has a good heart. He is a moral person who stands by his friends. Morality is at the center of the conflict in The Third Man. Martins wants to help his friend Harry Lime, spending the first half of the film searching for Lime’s killer. We are given an interesting backdrop in the dog-eat-dog landscape of post war Vienna. The moral crime in the film is the existence of a black market for medicine. Martins is shown that Lime is watering down penicillin to steal the rest and sell on the black market. It is a blow to Martins, because his friend Lime is not just rebelling against authority, like they did in their youth, Lime has become a killer.

Halfway through The Third Man, Martins stumbles tipsy out of Anna’s flat and into the street. He sees Lime in a doorway, and is shocked by the revelation that his friend is still alive. Not just alive, but hiding from Martins as well as the police. Everything terrible that Martins found out that Lime had done, he is still doing. It is an existential blow to Martins, because now he has to determine the fate of his friendship, and eventually the fate of his friend who is draped in shadows.

Shadows play an important part in revealing that Lime is still alive. We are set up for the revelatory scene while Martins is in Anna’s apartment saying goodbye to her. Martins moves away from a flower box in the window and the camera pans through the flowers to give us a shot below of the street. We see the dark figure of a man in the street looking up at Anna’s apartment, but we cannot see his face. He moves back into a doorway and into the shadows. Then a cat comes over to him and plays with his shoes. After Martins is finished talking with Anna, he goes back into the streets. Martins would have walked right past Lime, who is hidden in a darkened doorway, but the cat meows, drawing attention to him. Martins looks at the doorway, which is shown with canted angles. At first Martins heckles the man from behind a wall, but then walks over to a ledge, leaning his back against its wall. All Martins can see is Lime’s shoes. Then we hear an angry local woman, and she turns the light on. The light the old woman turns on would not be as bright as the one shown on Lime’s face; its artificial, giving a dramatic introduction to Lime. With the light on Lime there are shadows of shadows of window panes behind him. These become symbolic bars for Lime, because he is a wanted man, and upon arrest would go to jail. We are shown a canted angle shot up of Martins’ reaction to the news his friend is alive. Martins’ world is again twisted and skewed. As the emotion of the reunion sets in, the camera pans into Lime’s face for a close up. Lime is grinning proudly like a friend who just pulled a gag on his best mate.

Then the light goes off and Lime disappears into the shadows again. Martins runs toward him, but a random car driving by delays him and gives Lime a chance to escape.

The shadowy doorway is empty when Martins gets there, but he hears loud footsteps and chases after Lime.

Martins does not see Lime’s face again in this sequence but see’s Lime’s shadow after he turns a corner. Lime’s large shadow is on the wall running away from him. Janey Place and Lowell Peterson write, “Claustrophobic framing devices such as doors, windows, stairways, metal bed frames, or simply shadows separate the character from other characters from his world, or from his own emotions.” The shadow is used tremendously in The Third Man. It is used to portray mystery as seen in this scene. It is an element of thrills when Lime is chased through the sewers by the police with their shadows looming around every turn. Martins’ Austria becomes a world of literal shadows. Within the context of this scene, the shadow literally keeps the mystery of Lime’s identity from Martins, like a blank sheet pulled over him. Then after Lime takes off, neither his face nor even his back are seen; instead we just see his shadow from around a corner. Martins is disconnected by his emotions and a lack of knowledge. Lime and Martins have become separated here by secrets, ethics, and shadows.

Director Carol Reed uses dutch angles on and off throughout the film. It becomes even more uneasy to have a shot with a dutch angle, followed by a cut back to Martins with a normal angle, and then to cut away and back once more with another dutch angle. Martins is shown dutch against the wall, and then again not dutch. After he moves across the street he is dutch again. It is as though Reed doesn’t want us to become familiar with one or the other, but always keeps us on our toes. The use of dutch angles follows Martins’ confusion and frustration in many other scenes as well. The more confident that Martins is in confronting Lime’s killer, he is shown in normal shots; then as Martins’ shock of Lime’s being alive hits him, the dutch angles return. It is an uneasy world for Martins, and for the viewer.

This scene in the film shows Martins in an existential crisis. “Existentialism,” writes Porfirio,” is an outlook which begins with a disoriented individual facing a confused world that he cannot accept.” Martins has been told his friend was killed, and now he faces a dead man, no longer dead—his best friend who has indirectly killed many people. Porfirio continues, “It places its emphasis on man’s contingency in a world where there are no transcendental values or moral absolutes, a world devoid of any meaning but the one man himself creates.” Martins has been confronted by the police for their help, which conflicts with his relationship with Lime. Only Martins can decide what he can do. This scene is about choice, for Martins to decide if he should live an “authentic” or an “inauthentic” life. Inauthentic is to reject values of oneself. Whereas an authentic life is to “discover the ability to create one’s own values; in so doing each individual assumes responsibility for his life through the act of choosing between two alternatives.” Choice comes later in the film, but should be noted here. The crisis arises at this scene of the film fully for the first time, meaning that Martins must look within himself authenticate his values and decide whom to help.

The revelation of Harry Lime being alive is midpoint in the film. At the beginning of the film, Martins arrived in Vienna to see his friend. Now, in this scene, Martins finally sees and understands his friend. The search for Lime’s killer has changed Martins’ outlook and view of Lime. In this scene, with little dialogue, and none of it from Harry Lime, Reed created a dramatic scene using many of the techniques attributed to film noir. We see the challenge that the crisis pushes Martins into, before he begins to state it in the following scenes with the police and then Anna. Martins loves his friend Lime, but knows he has a greater duty in stopping him to be authentic with himself.

1. Naremore, James. More than Night: Film Noir in its Contexts. University of California PRess, Berkeley and Los Angeles. 2008. Ebook edition.
2. Peterson, Lowell and Place, Janey. "Some Visual Motifs of Film Noir." Film Noir Reader. Ed. Silver, Alain and Ursini, James. 8th ed. New York: Limelight Editions, 2006. 84.
3. Peterson, Lowell and Place, Janey. "Some Visual Motifs of Film Noir." Film Noir Reader. Ed. Silver, Alain and Ursini, James. 8th ed. New York: Limelight Editions, 2006. 68
4. Porfirio, Robert G. "No Way Out: Existential Motifs in the Film Noir" Film Noir Reader. Ed. Silver, Alain and Ursini, James. 8th ed. New York: Limelight Editions, 2006. 81
5. Porfirio. 87