Who killed America?

 Via Ol' Remus and View From The Right

 

Often when watching American films from the 1940s or '50s, rather than the story line I focus on what was things that were not consciously intended to be part of the film. Hitchcock movies are especially good for this. So are the Bogart movies. Try Dark Passage (1947) with Bogart and Bacall, about an escaped convict who befriends a woman who agrees to help him find who really killed his wife. 

If you can do it without crying, watch the background scenery of San Francisco in mid 20th century. Notice how magnificent the city seems, how clean, how broad and sunlit the horizon. This is film noir but even the induced murk fails to cut off the sense of unbounded promise that exists just beyond the camera's focus. Watch the pace of the city that appears in the background, the people walking down the street, the way they interact, the way they dress. Look at how an unspoken code of manners is guiding every person in the background. See how the man in the suit opens the door for the lady in the dress. 

Notice the assured masculinity of the men, the charming femininity of the women as they get off the train. That's not intended to be in the film. They didn't have any opinions about all this in 1947; it just was. Look at the man casually talking to his friend on a street corner, there is an ease and congeniality that is terrifying to watch. Or the couple sharing a cup of coffee in a café, they have all the time in the world. 

You forget to wonder who killed Vincent Parry's wife, and are instead crushed by a question that becomes very personal and bitter: Who killed America?