Billy Wilder's fourth feature film, and possibly his first great masterpiece (he would have several undisputed ones throughout his career), has everything a good classic noir film needs.
.webp "Best Scenes in Billy Wilder's fourth feature film, Perdition (1944)")
A criminal plot, large doses of mystery, a ' captivating Fatal Woman, and some iconic phrases. This is, at least, 'Perdition' (1944), one of the best of its kind and a great demonstration of how film language can speak for itself, and even more lucidly than words. Although the speed limit quote is for framing.
We enter one of the first scenes of the film, in the first meeting between its two protagonists, whose relationship will be understood from this moment on. This represents the beginning of a story that Walter Neff (Fred MacMurray) is telling, shown through one of the longest flashbacks in celluloid history.
Insurance salesman Walter Neff (MacMurray) slips into an opulent Los Angeles home, dodging the maid who has opened the door for him, and the action begins. The lady of the house, Mrs. Phyllis Dietrichson (Barbara Stanwyck), appears at the top of the stairs. The position of both is key. She looks down at him haughtily, only with a towel covering her body (and, even so, her hair perfectly arranged) and that strange smile on her mouth, pure 'femme fatal observing what is the best way to eat the prey to her The fact that she is at her height causes us to see her from Neff's perspective, in a low-angle shot that gives her a deep sense of mastery and security. In addition, she also marks the class of both, so that the ladder that separates them is none other than a social ladder.
Dietrichson will go down it, and we will see his feet moving quickly, eagerly, but not before reminding us that this is a subjective narration: we listen to Neff's voice-over again, who tells the details of that room with the half-closed windows in the that awaits her This reaffirms that low angle view that offered an almost mystical vision of the woman since it is none other than the sensation that she left marked on the visitor. "I want to see her again, up close," she says, and we finally see her feet. She arrives in the room, still buttoning up her dress (a touch of mischief, of conscious provocation towards her guest) and going first to the mirror to put on her lipstick, while the conversation begins through the mirror. Another frame where to see Dietrichson as a powerful construction.
They sit in the armchairs and, without cutting flat, the conversation progresses quickly. She is playing with something in her hands, she is aware of him but not too interested, and he falls more and more into her trap. So she gets up and walks slowly while Neff talks. But the camera does not focus on him, but on her. It doesn't matter what he says, but what she is thinking and we still don't know. That same alert-minded look that we saw on the stairs we see again here: she has a plan, and she is wondering if this poor man will be able to carry it out with her. That's why she changes the course of the conversation and goes from the professional to the personal. She asks him, between the lines, if he is happy and makes money selling policies. "Accidents too?" she asks him. "Sure," he replies. And he goes back to the sofa.
His gaze travels over the woman's body for two scant seconds, and she asks him about the pendant that she wears on her ankle. He is about to throw himself into the ring. Thus, an iconic conversation takes place, full of wit, flirtation, and forcefulness:
D: Mr. Neff, why don't you come by tomorrow at 8:30? She will be home.
N: who?
D: My husband. You are interested in talking to him, aren't you?
N: That's how it was, but I'm getting over the urge, believe me.
D: In this state, there is a speed limit, Mr. Neff: 70 km. per hour.
N: And which one were you going to, agent?
D: I would say 90.
N: Well, get off your motorcycle and give me a ticket.
D: Better leave it on warning this time.
N: And if it doesn't work?
D: I'll hit him on the knuckles with the ruler.
N: What if I burst into tears and put my head on his shoulder?
D: Why don't you try putting it in my husband's?
N: It's over.
This exchange, with their eyes fixed on each other, resembles a game of ping pong. The exchange is scathing and irresistible, ending with a cut from Dietrichson, as she is still a married woman in her own home. And, besides, she must mark the territory: he is not the one who will command the relationship they are about to share. Beyond this rudeness, the machine has already begun to work inside him, and we will still have one more sample, a very subtle one, of this: when Neff goes out the door, his shadow is drawn for a few moments on the wall above the woman's head. As a way of telling us that her memory has already been etched in her mind, and she will be until she walks through that door again, this time with her husband present.
D: I wonder if I understand what she says.
N: I wonder if he asks.
This scene from 'Perdition' is a clear example of when a movie speaks beyond the words written in the script. There is so much information in almost five minutes, embodied in images, glances, and shadows, that nothing else is needed. The story will continue to develop, but this scene has already been remembered. And for film analysis classes.
