Directed
by Fritz Lang
Screenplay
by Charles Hoffman
Based on
the novella “The Gardenia” by Vera Caspary
Music by
Raoul Kraushaar
Edited by
Edward Mann
Cinematography
by Nicholas Musuraca
Anne Baxter as Norah Larkin
Richard Conte as Casey Mayo
Ann Sothern as Crystal Carpenter
Jeff Donnell as Sally Ellis
Raymond Burr as Harry Prebble
Richard Erdman as Al
George Reeves as Police Captain Sam
Haynes
Ruth Storey as Rose Miller
Ray Walker as Homer
Nat King Cole as himself
Distributed
by RKO
Produced
by Blue Gardenia Productions
Norah Larkin and her
two roommates, Crystal Carpenter and Sally Ellis, work at the West-Coast
Telephone Company. Reporter Casey Mayo of the Los Angeles Chronicle arrives one day to do a human interest story
on the telephone operators who work there; artist Harry Prebble is already in
the company offices sketching women at random, but on this particular day, he
is sketching Crystal Carpenter.
According
to Wikipedia, The Blue Gardenia
(1953) was the first of director Fritz Lang’s “newspaper noir” movie trilogy.
The others are While the City Sleeps
(released on May 16, 1956) and Beyond a
Reasonable Doubt (released
on September 13, 1956). Click here for more information.
The
Blue Gardenia doesn’t really
explain Harry’s connection to everyone else on that particular day; the only
detail about Prebble’s character that is clear from the start is that he is
interested in women and getting their phone numbers, and he has found the right
gig for meeting as many women as he can. He even gets a phone call at West
Coast from a woman, Rose, he has already met and spurned. Rose comes across as
hysterical and demanding, but her role is extremely important, and she returns
to the story later to fill in missing details.
The first seven to
ten minutes of exposition in The Blue
Gardenia lay the foundation and provide many of the details that viewers
need to keep track of the plot to come. In the opening, we meet all the main
characters and learn important details about them. We learn that Norah’s
boyfriend is fighting in Korea and that Harry Prebble is an unsavory character whom
women should avoid. Even the phone call from Rose, which seems insignificant
compared to everything else discussed and shown about the main characters,
turns out to be a vital clue in the mystery that unfolds.
In fact, the opening
sequence to The Blue Gardenia is a
perfect example of what is so great about well-done B movies (and most films
noir fall into the B movie category): Viewers have to pay attention and
remember details. Everything is packed into a short running time and nothing is
wasted. Even the musical number sung by Nat King Cole is an important part of
the story. He is a famous singer, and the film uses his popular music as a plot
device. The film and the musical number go by the same name, as does the restaurant
where Norah meets Harry Prebble for dinner. And Blue Gardenia is the nickname
that Casey Mayo gives to Harry Prebble’s murderer in his features for the Los Angeles Chronicle.
Click here
for another post about The Blue Gardenia,
at the blog called The Blonde at the Film. Check out the many stills and read
to the end for a link to the Lux Radio production of the story starring Dana
Andrews and Ruth Roman. Thank you, Cameron!
After leaving work at
the West-Coast Telephone Company in the opening sequence, Norah and her
roommates return home. It’s Norah’s birthday, and she plans to celebrate alone
by opening the latest letter from her boyfriend in Korea. It turns out to be a
“Dear Jane” letter because her boyfriend has found someone new. When Harry Prebble
calls and mistakes Norah for her roommate Crystal, Norah goes along with the
error and decides to meet Harry Prebble for dinner. During dinner, Harry takes
advantage of Norah’s emotional state and gets her drunk on Polynesian Pearl
Divers. He lies to her about the drink’s ingredients, just as he lies to her
later about the coffee he serves to her at his apartment.
Viewers have a lot of
sympathy for Norah, even though she is in Harry Prebble’s apartment the night
that he is murdered. And even though all the evidence points to her as the
murderer when she wakes the next morning with a severe hangover and a case of
amnesia about the events of the previous night.
(This blog post about
The Blue Gardenia contains spoilers.)
The first
time that I saw The Blue Gardenia, the
ending struck me as a bit cheesy and a little too optimistic for a film noir.
But the second time that I saw it, from a modern, twenty-first-century
perspective, it didn’t seem quite so optimistic. According to the narrative, Norah
Larkin’s future happiness hinges on Casey Mayo calling her and pursuing her.
But Mayo is another man, like Harry Prebble, who lies to her.
When Norah first meets Casey Mayo,
during a fabulous sequence when she goes to the Los Angeles Chronicle office, Mayo is a man with an ulterior motive.
The camerawork “sets him up”: First, there is the long shot of Norah stepping
out of the elevator and coming into the newspaper office. Then there is the
medium shot of her walking through the desks in the dark and the camera panning
to follow (stalk?) her. And why do we have the feeling that she is being
stalked? And by whom? The flashing “CHRONICLE” sign alternately lights the way
and leaves her in darkness. Casey Mayo calls out to her and scares her. He says that he didn’t mean to scare her, but he wants and gets
the upper hand.
Another detail about Casey Mayo that
bothered me occurs at the end of the film, when Mayo tosses his little black
book of women’s telephone numbers to the newspaper photographer and coworker Al.
The business about the phone numbers harks back to Harry Prebble and his
predatory search for women’s phone numbers. Harry Prebble didn’t have a little
black book; he had no plans to keep in touch with any of his conquests. But the
comparison to Prebble, a predatory rapist, doesn’t make Casey Mayo look good.
The film
and the short story that inspired it are loosely based on the case of the Black
Dahlia, I believe. The film has Casey Mayo, the newspaper reporter, looking for
a lurid story and willing to lie about his intentions to get it. He writes an
open letter to the murderer, whom he nicknames Blue Gardenia, promising her
legal help if she will talk to him first. He wants the scoop because, as he
explains to Al, Blue Gardenia is “hot copy.” Until she calls, Mayo is willing
to listen to other callers confess to a crime that they didn’t commit and don’t
know anything about, which was true of the Black Dahlia’s case, too.
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