Films of the 50's Part 3: Dial M for Murder & Ace in the Hole

(Note: The author apologizes for this, previous and future posts, which might not be written or edited to the best of his ability. These are meant as quick snapshot reactions to films, and are limited by time. Thank you.)



Dial M for Murder (1954, Alfred Hitchcock)

Alfred Hitchcock could end up with six movies or more on my list of the best films of the 50’s. I constantly change my mind as to which of his films is my favorite. I just can’t do it. Dial M for Murder is one of those that I can watch again and again. One can easily tell from the lack of location changes that Dial M was adapted from a stage play, much like another of my favorites, Rope. We also find out that Hitchcock has a thing for murderous tennis players, as both this and Strangers on a Train use this unlikely character type.

Ray Milland plays Tony Wendice, a cuckolded former tennis pro. Grace Kelly plays Margot, his cheating wife. Wendice sets out on the path of revenge, hatching a plan as intricate as a Rube Goldberg device. As can be expected, the plot to have his wife dispatched does not go as smoothly as he once hoped, and he must improvise. The interplay between Milland and Kelly is remarkable. The constant game of deception and does he / she know keeps the viewer teetering as if on an unraveling tightrope.

Pivotal scenes revolve around small objects, a pair of scissors, a key, an attaché case. Some might call these Hitchcock’s classic “MacGuffins,” items that are there to propel the story forward with no real meaning otherwise. Hitchcock wrings suspense out of every moment. Case in point, Chief Inspector Hubbard’s quiet search for the key, and as a result his piecing together of just what happened the night Wendice paid someone to have his wife murdered.

There are two of Hitchcock’s films that have masterpiece posters, Vertigo and Dial M. The former, the work of Saul Bass, is iconic, geometrical and simple. The latter is its opposite, deep blood red, visually realistic; the pleats of Grace Kelly’s dress vivid and somehow surreal. Kelly’s hand reaching out, the phone off the hook nearby, was probably meant as a cue that the film was originally meant to be presented in 3-D, but forgotten since viewers lost interest in the format, and it was rarely seen this way.



Ace in the Hole (1951, Billy Wilder)

This is one of a handful of films I’ve seen that ended up tanking at the box office, and sometimes also critically, yet over time finding itself heralded a classic. Ace in the Hole was most likely expected to be as big a hit as the auteur’s previous films, Double Indemnity, The Lost Weekend, and Sunset Boulevard. Unfortunately, that didn’t turn out to be the case.

Ace in the Hole tells the story of Chuck Tatum, a newspaper reporter down on his luck and lacking scruples, finding himself with no other prospects than a low paying job on a small newspaper in New Mexico. After a year of failing to get his big story and making it back to the big city, Tatum begins to despair. On a routine assignment, he and the young photographer in his tow come upon a remote general store where they find that a man has been trapped in the depths of a nearby mine. Seizing opportunity, Tatum sticks around and begins to sensationalize the story, even going to the lengths of convincing the rescue crew of using the slowest method of reaching the trapped miner in order to make the most of the story.

The story gains notoriety and national coverage. Gawkers begin to show up, until eventually, the whole affair becomes a mockery of itself, with a carnival and amusement rides established in the flats near the mine. Wilder wanted to take the media to task, but viewers at the time didn’t seem to get it. It has gained classic status today because of the carnival-like media today. The recent following of the ‘balloon boy’ story is just one example.

In true Wilder style, the title is fantastically clever, and yet, the studio changed the title before its release in theaters to The Big Carnival. Kirk Douglas’ over the top performance is perfect for the role and the message of the film. His ego and quest for personal gain drives every scene. One nice little touch I’ll always remember is that he refers to everyone as ‘fan.’ How’s that for humility? I'm sure there were many who might not have known that the Simpsons episode, "Radio Bart," in which Bart throws a radio / walkie talkie down a well, then gets himself trapped in it, was directly inspired by this film.

Wilder was one of the country’s most notable early multiple threats: writer, director, producer. Above all, he was a writer, and a damn good one, which is why one foreign director said, for his Oscar acceptance speech, “I would like to believe in God in order to thank him. But, I just believe in Billy Wilder.” Further, on Wilder’s gravestone, it reads one of my favorite quotations, “I’m a writer. But then, nobody’s perfect.”