Blog #5 - "I Love You Too": Sexual Warfare & Homoeroticism in Billy Wilder’s Double Indemnity

“ ‘I Love You Too’: Sexual Warfare & Homoeroticism in Billy Wilder’s Double Indemnity’ ” is an illuminating examination of what scholars and critics alike may refer to as a cinematic masterpiece. Or perhaps as the French would reply, a “pièce de résistance.” The author of the article, Brian Gallagher, treats Wilder’s and Cain’s Double Indemnity as such, and does well to layout details in support of his provocative and indicting interpretations on male-male and male-female relationships, albeit fetishistically.

The gravitas to which Gallagher (and perhaps other analysts) explores the undertones, overtones and subversiveness of Double Indemnity, and their relevance thereof, feels, as a singular opinion, exceedingly over-analytical and overreaching. However, Gallagher is an expert in finding meaning in the minutiae, which aides in the understanding of the hypothesized intentions of James Cain and Billy Wilder, in particular, the layers of the Walter-Phyllis/Walter-Keyes relationship and how it derives its power.

The former relationship, which is at the forefront of the novel and is a slice of the triangle in the film, claims broad insights into the turmoil and the eventual inevitability of mutual destruction present in all heterosexual relationships, which are “...generally noisome and often lethal,” notes Gallagher. Despite this damning vision, the article is apt at pointing out the difference between Cain’s Walter and Wilder’s Walter. Gallagher states of Cain’s Walter, “...[he] is not overly disturbed by Phyllis’s displaced sexuality, for her real importance to him is functional.” Cain’s Walter is attracted to her on a physical level, but his aims are meant to be financially gratifying and not sexual, at least, not completely. On the other hand, Wilder’s Walter is driven nearly exclusively by his submission to sexual desire, “Much of his voice-over commentary implied that he was impelled by a physical desire for Phyllis which he could not control.” These observations by Gallagher contrast the separate incarnations of Walter and accentuate how much the film relies upon the striking looks of Barbara Stanwyck to incite lust within Walter, compelling him to commit nefarious acts, all with the promise of sexual fulfillment.

The contrast between the two variants of Walter seems to imply the male submissiveness to sexual desire, the film being the more culpable agent. The film also suggests, as pointed out by Gallagher, that “women are duplicitous, vulgar, and untrustworthy.” Both of these proposed theories are blasphemous, especially with respect to women, as it reduces them to merely creatures of havoc. In observation, both Cain’s Phyllis and Wilder’s Phyllis are beautiful seductresses bent on achieving their ambitions; however, the portrayal of Phyllis in the novel consists at least of more than one dimension.

The relationship between Keyes and Walter may be in contention; nevertheless, most would probably conclude that Walter and Keyes have a deep sense of trust, one that goes beyond their professional collaboration. Gallagher notes, “Keyes is very much the solicitous ‘father,’ concerned about his ‘son’s’ future and hoping to pass on wisdom, position, and function to him.” The role of fatherhood is apparent in the exchanges between Walter and Keyes, a screen pairing that is given a great degree of focus considering its sporadic and quite limited nature. This was a strong addition by Wilder, highlighting Keyes’ disposition in the novel as possibly equally fastidious but generally unpleasant.

Gallagher then proceeds to theorize on the relationship between Keyes and Walter, the essence of which is a claim of homoeroticism. “The sexual undercurrent in the Walter-Keyes relationship is established in the very first scene between them when a grinning Walter replies mockingly ‘I love you too’...then performs the ritual gesture of lighting Keyes’ large, cheap (and clearly phallic) cigar...” Gallagher applies “sexual” in his definition, a word that is misplaced and egregious in its implications. The Oxford dictionary defines homoeroticism, a phrase used by Gallagher in his title, as “concerning or arousing sexual desire centered on a person of the same sex.” The continued use of this phrase by critics and analysts proposes that some are threatened by the display of same sex affection, the propensity of which is male. In this sense, the use of the phrase homoeroticism conveys that affection and or tenderness of any degree delivered by a man to another man is tantamount to a sexual impulse, as any emotion resembling love is a strike against male bravado.

Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.

Blog #4 - Zero Draft Questions

9. A significant change between the novel and the film is the raised prominence of the character of Keyes in the film version. Critics have suggested that the novel is a story of two lovers whereas the film depicts a love triangle and that often Walter is being pulled back and forth between Phyllis and Keyes. What evidence from the film supports these assertions?

Throughout Double Indemnity there are many indicators of the proposed triangle that exists between the characters of Walter Neff, Phyllis Dietrichson and Barton Keys. Walter, being the centerpiece and amplifier, is pulled between physical conceptualizations of love and sex. Barton representing love and Phyllis representing sex.

Within the first few moments of Phyllis’ introduction to Walter, the indication of a explicitly sexual relationship is foreshadowed, evidenced by Walter’s pleasurable change in expression and demeanor at the sight of the partially covered Phyllis. This first encounter is not subtle or innocuous by any means as it blatantly establishes, as a tip off to the audience by the filmmakers, the composition of what their relationship will entail. In each of their subsequent scenes together, unless they are scheming the murder of Phyllis’ husband, physical attraction and sex are the main, albeit deceptively subtle, components.

On the other hand, the relationship between Barton and Walter is built upon mutual respect, trust, and tenderness, derived from years of professional collaboration. This fact is made evident by narration from Walter in which he espouses his feelings for Barton, “You never fooled me with your song and dance, not for a second. I kind of always knew that behind the cigar ashes on your vest, you had a heart as big as a house.” The relationship is also given credence by Walter’s lighting of Barton’s cigars throughout the film. Barton constantly struggles to get them lit only to have Walter step in and light it for him, suggesting care and support. In the end, this gesture is returned by Barton, when he lightsWalter’s cigarette as he nears death, subtly returning affection.

As the plot thickens and Walter becomes further immersed in his wrong doings, he seeks escape from the trappings of the scheme as well as to depart from Phyllis’ growing adversarial nature. Barton becomes a morality check for Walter as he seeks a sort of spiritual guidance. Absolution is sought, not from the duplicitous side of the triangle, but its rather it’s trusting side. Walter lays out the details of the murder plot to Barton as if he is his father confessor. He is asking forgiveness, not just from the law, but more importantly from the man whose trust he betrayed. Therefore, by departing from the novel, the film suggests a stark contrast between the act of sex and the feeling of love, that the two acts are perhaps irreconcilable. 

On a final and more personal note, it is also suggested by film analysts that the relationship between Walter and Barton has a subtext of homoeroticism. This is a completely erroneous supposition. Walter and Barton have an established love, this fact is not in dispute. Rather, the grievance has its roots in the way in which the word love is being used to imply more than its definition. In this case, over analyzation has a produced a theory that has little to no merit. It is well established that love can exist between members of the same sex and be strictly platonic, not romantic or sexual in nature.

5. During the title a sequence, a man on crutches hobbles toward the camera. Explain the significance of this image. Who in the story does this man represent? Why would this be an appropriate image to show at the beginning of the film? How does this sequence anticipate later developments in the film?

At the beginning of the film, the man on crutches is presented to the audience as a silhouette. To the uniformed, this image presents a puzzle to the mind, a mystery, begging to be solved. How does he end up on crutches? Who this man? Why is his he hidden in shadow?  Some of the answers are revealed in the text of the film, pointing to the man on crutches as Walter Neff, masquerading as Mr. Dietrichson, done in hopes of deceiving witness in the plot of his murder. However, this opening faceless visage may have far more reaching implications than simply foreshadowing the events of a murder. 

The image seems to suggest a changing of identity. By taking on the form and clothes of Dietrichson, Walter inevitably becomes him. Dietrichson, the man who was duped and murdered by his wife, lives on in the guise of Walter. And then, as the odds begin to favor a turnabout in the affair, Walter becomes the target of Phyllis‘ diabolic nature. The subtext seems to imply, at least to me, that perhaps all men are weak willed in when it comes to women and their powers of seduction. 

Dietrichson married Phyllis, seduced just as easily as Walter would later be, albeit under different circumstances. As soon as he died, Walter stepped in to replace him, bringing that soul back to life. In the end, perhaps all men are just faceless bodies, awaiting their time of death and rebirth. 

Blog #3 - Noir by Proxy

A scene from Black as Orange...
  I remember this part most of all. Because this was the day when everything that was supposed to be normal became everything that could never be normal again. All because I couldn’t sit back and be a good girl. I couldn’t let nature take its course. I couldn’t just let the bad things come. I had to make them worse. I had to fight. Because real life isn’t like a picture show. In real life, it’s hard luck for the good. Here comes the end. It’s curtains. No applause. Off to the bye and bye, no pie in the sky.
  “You’re shaking,” Olivia said.
  “Maybe it’s just cold in here,” I said.
  “Really? I hadn’t noticed.”
  Olivia and I were in the dining room. All the guests were outside because Dad was about to give his speech to the investors about the new track being built up near Los Angeles, the so-called city of angels. Most corporate honchos don’t do that kind of thing, giving presentations at home, but my dad wasn’t like the rest of them. He liked to be down to earth and personal and not stuffy with how do you do’s and you look well’s.
  He was good at what he did. Smart. He had a way about him. And everyone knew he knew trains better than anyone else.
  But he’s still just a man. And all men have a fault. I know that now. Olivia made that be more true than anything.
  But where was I? Oh, yes. The cold.
  Olivia was standing there looking at me and I was trying not to shiver. There she was, in her dress as black as a moonless night, showing off the work of God. So perfect.
  She was wearing that smile, too. That smile that is like an invitation after a knock. Always with that smile. So subtle and chaste. But with a touch of evil that only I could see. Everyone else fell for her, just like she wanted them to. But she hadn’t counted on me.
  “What are you doing in here, Joanna?” she asked me. It was then that I noticed something that gave me pause. She had one of her hands behind her back.
This is it. Do it now. Say it now. That was what I thought then. Because I knew then, as I know now, that death was coming no matter what.
“I’m here because I followed you in here.”
She didn’t look at me the way she should have, the way any normal person would. Instead, she moved a little closer to me, crossing at the far end of the dining room table, her hand still behind her back.
It was then that I heard the fire crack from the library across the hall. My heart skipped and I almost jumped. For a moment I thought that hidden hand held a gun. And one of its bullets was for me. But I knew how ridiculous that would be. She wouldn’t have shot me. Not then. Not before I lifted the veil on her.
  She kept moving toward me, gliding like she always did. Each footstep from her high heeled shoes hitting the marbled floor and filling the room with echoes like a drawn out drum, each percussion closer in time.
  The hidden hand.
  “Why would you follow me in here?” she asked, almost playfully.
  “You came in here,” I looked down at her hidden hand again. “What’s in your hand?”
“My hand?”
  “Yes.”
“Oh. You mean this.” She pulled out a small something. Not a gun. But still with its own fatal instinct.
  A cigarette.
“I hope you don’t tell on me. That I slipped away for a cigarette just before things get exciting. Not very proper, I admit.”
“My lips are sealed.” I took a step back to gather my nerve.  “At least on that.”        
  “Not very subtle, Joanna. Am I supposed to guess?”
  I couldn’t let her get the upper hand, not in our game. She’d already beaten the house after all, a royal flush straight to my father’s heart.
  “Do you need a match?”
“You’d be a dear.”
  I wanted her dead right then and there. Endearments laced with venom, not with love. From that angel of avarice.
From her mouth to my father’s ear.
I walked over to one of the cabinets and got a book of matches. When I got back, I gestured for her to sit down and she followed my lead without protest or hesitation. Just like a lady should.
  I sat down next to her. We were close, facing each other. I lit her cigarette and put the matches on the table. I’d never been that close to her before. I’d never been able to see how every sharp curve was perfectly mirrored in suggestiveness.
She was beautiful.
  Truly.
  And it was in the eyes. Green like emeralds. They asked you to dance with every flicker. Even those lips. Red stained, the smoking drifting out. She spoke without speaking.
  That’s something I never wanted to admit, wanting to be like her. Wanting that certain something.
I think of myself in that moment, in my dress, a soft yellow like the new day sun. Olivia next to me in hers, with silk dark as the midnight hour. We were the beginning and the end. And I think anyone who looked at us would have thought the same. But there was part of me that was closer to her than I ever thought possible. Night was falling on me. I know it now. But at that moment it was just a glimmer of a darkness yet to come.
“I’ve never seen you like this, Joanna.”
“How do you mean?”
“So...,” she said with another drag of her cigarette. “So scared. Or are you still going to blame it on the cold? Maybe I should ask Andrew to turn up the heat for you.”
She was right. I couldn’t blame it on the cold. But I wasn’t to be stopped.
  “You think you can do anything, don’t you?”
“Oh, my sweet daughter, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“My father fell in love with you, not me. I’m not going to let you do this to him.”
“Do what?”
  “Use him. You don’t love him. You’re after something. I don’t know what. But I’m going to find out.”
“Let’s just say, for a moment, that I was up to something. How would you go about finding out.”
“I would have you investigated.”
“Investigated? Sounds so unbecoming you. I never would have thought words like that could come out of a mouth so innocent.”
“It’s money. This new deal with the railroads down in Los Angeles. You made sure he went through with it. You pushed.”
  “He has his financial advisors. That’s not the business of a lady.”
  “Does the name John London ring a bell?”
“Doesn’t seem to.”
  “He’s a private investigator. I’ve read about him in the papers. I could have him look into you.”
  “You’d do such a thing?”
  “Yes. I would.”
She leaned in to me. She reached out and put her hand on my wrist, ever so gently. Her expression changed, like a new mask to cover the old one.
“I know you don’t trust me. Taking your father away from you the way I did. I wouldn’t trust me if I were you.”
  Those fingers on my wrist, making sparks up my spine. I was paralyzed, every part of me at the mercy of her touch. And that face, looking like a plea before the mercy of the court.
  And then as easily as she had slipped it on, the mask of appeal was gone. Instead, there was only the piercing daggers of those inviting eyes.
“I could take everything, couldn’t I? It wouldn’t take much. Because I know your father would do anything for me. Men are like that, you know, when they think they’re in love. Has a man ever felt like that about you?”
I was almost breathless. I knew I wasn’t supposed to answer but for some reason I tried.
“I don’t know. . . I think so.”
  “A girl pretending to be a woman.”
She came in closer. And closer. The hairs on my arm feeling the tips of her fingers sliding further up, each tingle like a heartbeat of its own.
  Then her lips were at my ear. She had me.
  “So you have no idea how it feels,” she began to whisper. “If ever a man did, there’s so much that can go wrong if you’re not careful. I wouldn’t want something bad to happen to you.”
  That smile that was supposed to be so innocent, it started to creep wider. I knew that kind of pleasure. It was the kind that reveled in someone else’s fear. She was enjoying this. I could feel her shadow, so deep, pressing down on me as if it had substance.  
  “But it would be so easy for you...”
  I was falling deeper. The light was fading. I could almost feel her cheek on mine. “So easy for me?” I whispered back. 
”To get hurt.”