“How Could I Have Known That Murder Could Sometimes Smell Like Honeysuckle?” – Walter Neff

Widely regarded as one of the greatest films released during the Golden Age of Hollywood, Double Indemnity is a 1944 crime-thriller that combines suspense and sharp wit, conveying its captivating story of murder and romance through stylish, achromatic visuals and scintillating dialogue. Despite the technical limitations of its time and the occasional dragging scene, Double Indemnity‘s favourable qualities easily outweigh its shortcomings, setting the standard for almost every noir that followed, to the point that the American Film Institute actually ranked the film as their “29th Greatest Movie of All Time” in 2007.

Plot Summary: Living a life largely devoid of excitement, the smooth-talking insurance salesman Walter Neff finds his thirst for more quenched when he encounters the seductive Phyllis Dietrichson, the weary wife of a callous husband whom she plans to murder and cash out on his ‘accidental’ death claim, eventually convincing Walter to join her devious scheme. But, when his quick-witted supervisor, Barton Keyes, becomes suspicious of the claim, Walter’s paranoia gets the better of him as the pair’s fiendish ploy begins to fall apart…

Based on the novella of the same name by James M. Cain, supposedly inspired by a 1927 murder case perpetrated by a married woman and her lover, whose trial he attended whilst working as a journalist in New York. During this, Ruth Snyder persuaded her boyfriend, Judd Gray, to kill her husband, Albert, after having him take out an insurance policy with a double-indemnity clause before the couple were ultimately identified, arrested and convicted. Although the novella was well-adapted to the silver screen by screenwriters Billy Wilder and Raymond Chandler, the pair did not get along while penning the screenplay, a process loaded with arguments and behind-the-scenes drama. Nevertheless, the two writers’ squabbles may have been worthwhile as the dialogue exchanges between characters perfectly exemplify the noir genre, being both snappy and comical. So much so that the scene where Walter and Phyllis meet for the first time could be seen as the template for what virtually all notable noir films sound like.

Despite several cast members initially being apprehensive about signing on to the project, with the late lead Fred MacMurray even on the verge of turning down the role because he feared his career would be ruined by playing such a despicable character, every cast member in Double Indemnity is performing to their highest ability. From MacMurray and the late Barbara Stanwyck as murderous lovers, Walter Neff and Phyllis Dietrichson, flaunting their palpable on-screen chemistry, to the late Edward G. Robinson as Walter’s astute, snarky office manager, Barton Keyes, exhibiting a perfect balance of tenacity and humour, smelling something rotten about Mr. Dietrichson’s untimely demise, all of the performances are worthy of the screenplay’s well-crafted verbal exchanges.

Owing much of its visual brilliance to the late cinematographer John F. Seitz, an influential figure in camerawork with a career spanning several decades, Seitz’s work on Double Indemnity is often deemed a masterclass in stylish visuals. Well-known for his ability to use light and shadows to evoke mood, Seitz was instrumental in establishing the visual language of the noir genre via this film and many others, with the chiaroscuro lighting, tight framing and innovative use of darkness heightening the tension and moral ambiguity that pervade the narrative, his collaboration with the late director Billy Wilder (Sabrina, Some Like It Hot, The Apartment) only elevating Double Indemnity into a film that visually communicates its underlying themes of greed, betrayal and moral corruption as much as the dialogue. Additionally, light filtering in through blinds (a staple of the noir genre) is frequently used to visually depict Walter being ‘behind bars.’

The late Miklos Rózsa’s stagey original score is your traditional orchestral soundtrack, with the opening piece; Prelude, being a standout track, dramatically enriching the opening credit sequence where a mysterious silhouette of a man stepping toward the camera on crutches soon engulfs the screen. Following this, Rózsa adds emotional depth to the film with the track; Murder Theme, a suspenseful piece in which the striking of a timpani forms a grim rhythm, accompanied by violins that deliver a numbing pulse, alluding to the characters’ dark intentions.

Outside of the crime elements, Double Indemnity also harbours a hefty amount of romance within its narrative, largely thanks to the previously mentioned chemistry between MacMurray and Stanwyck, but also as a result of the film’s sensual moments and even moderately suggestive visuals for the time. For example, when Walter first meets Phyllis, the camera is drawn to a bracelet (or anklet) on her right ankle, with an urban legend stating that a married woman wearing a right-sided anklet indicates she is married yet available to other men. One of the many details that not only adds to the characterisation of Phyllis, but also serves as a humorous time capsule of the 1940s, when merely showing a woman’s ankle was considered scandalous.

In summary, if there is one Golden Age Hollywood classic that defines the very essence of the genre it’s a part of, it’s Double Indemnity, standing as a tremendous example of how to craft an engaging crime-thriller, building tension by employing intimate close-ups and honed dialogue. For a film from this era, you can’t do much better than Double Indemnity, a famed noir that stands the test of time after seventy years and will likely stand for seventy more, given its venerable reputation. Rating: 8/10.