noir lines, showing things like Party Girl
(1958, dir. Nicholas Ray) or Talk about a
Stranger (1952, with the future Nancy Rea-
gan). Both bend the “rules” of the genre.
But since noir is not actually a genre in the
first place, I don’t care. I like intriguing,
ambitious failures as well as formulaic, by-
the-numbers “good” films. The backstories
of why the films failed are instructive and,
I hope, entertaining.
As for choosing the movies, I mostly
select them from a master list of what’s
currently on license, but programming VP
Charlie Tabesh allows me some latitude if
there’s a film I really want to show. They’ll
make a few licensing deals each season to
accommodate my enthusiasm. I’m more
involved in scheduling now, so I can place
a film in a certain slot, like screening On
Dangerous Ground (1951) to commemorate
composer Bernard Herrmann’s birthday.
Davis: You were a bartender and then fol-
lowed in your father’s footsteps as a newspa-
perman. It seems like perfect training for a
noir-meister. “Set ’em up, Joe, I’ve got a little
story.” And no college for you, which used to
be somewhat traditional in the “rag trade.”
Muller: I recently talked to a college profes-
sor who was perplexed by the show’s success.
“You have no training,” the guy said. That
pleased me no end. He’s right, I have never
had any academic indoctrination. I honed
my critical thinking as a journalist, not in a
classroom. My take on movies is informed
by research into the making of the films, not
by the kind of critical analysis that too often
relies on specious interpretations to bolster
preconceived agendas. To put it as simply
as possible, the academic approach to film
fosters exclusivity—only the “learned” truly
understand. My approach is inclusive—I
want as many people in the tent as possible,
because, bottom line, my job is to perpetu-
ate the value of these films in an increasingly
ignorant, apathetic culture.
As for the bartending part... I pissed
off the organizers of a writing conference
one time when I told the “students” that if
they wanted to “write,” they needed to learn
to tell a story first. I encourage wanna-be
writers to take the most compelling story in
their life, go into a bar, and tell it to a strang-
er. If they tell you to beat it, try some other
line of work. If they buy you a drink and say,
“Tell me another one”—you’ve got a chance.
You have to be able to tell a story, not just
write one. Because either way, you are vying
for an audience’s attention—whether it is a
single reader or millions of people watching
on television.Davis: Your dad earned the newspaper
nickname of “Mr. Boxing.” It’s interesting
to me how boxing has attracted so much
high-quality writing in general, but also for
the movies—The Harder They Fall (1956),
Million Dollar Baby (2004), Requiem for a
Heavyweight (1962). And most good boxing
movies are noir-based, don’t you think? As a
boy, I first saw The Set-Up (1949) with Rob-
ert Ryan on TV. I still remember the impact
of that brutal ending. The film gave me an
insight into a reality that we often would
rather not contemplate.Muller: Boxing is by far the most theatrical
of sports. Two combatants are on a stage,
in the spotlight, waging a battle that is real.
It’s a matter of life and death. The spectacle
will always fascinate writers and filmmak-
ers. What you’re saying is especially true of
boxing films made in the 1940s and ’50s,
because that was the first time that orga-
nized crime’s influence in the sport was
made public, in Congressional hearings.
You see that in Abe Polonsky’s script for
Body and Soul (1947); it’s a fairy tale based
on fact. The appeal to writers is that boxing
is a pitched battle between man’s best andworst instincts; cruelty and nobility clash
head-on.Davis: Which, of course, leads to the ques-
tion you must have been asked a million
times. What is noir to you? Some see it
strictly as a film style; others find all sorts of
philosophical import.Muller: I consider it an organic artistic
movement, driven by the desire of the cre-
ators to offer a more mature view of human
affairs. It’s the flip side of the myth of “hap-
pily ever after.” Its impact and influence
come from having emerged in a time when
these themes were squashed by the film
industry’s guardians. Not everyone making
what we now call “noir” was trying to make
a philosophical statement. Most of them just
wallowed in the liberation of finally being
able to tell stories in which the protagonist
could be a bad guy. It’s really that simple. A
noir story is about people who know what
they’re doing is wrong, and they do it any-
way. And, typically, there’s hell to pay. We
love watching them break the law; we love
watching them reap the consequences.Davis: Of all the noir films, which embodies
the essence of noir, a work of great art that
somehow captures it all? I’m still on The Set-
Up, myself. Thanks to TCM I was stunned
by the original The Racket (1928), the Lewis
Milestone one, which seems to me darker
than I expected for the time period.Muller: The two films I’d recommend to
anyone who wants a crash course in noirI like intriguing,
ambitious failures as well
as formulaic, by-the-
numbers “good” films.
The backstories of why the
films failed are instructive
and, I hope, entertaining.The two films I’d
recommend to anyone
who wants a crash course
in noir are Double Indemnity
(1944) and Out of the Past
(1947). They pin the noir
meter, so to speak.WORLDLIT.ORG 11