Double Indemnity (1944)

5/5

Billy Wilder's Double Indemnity is the definitive film noir, perfecting all the elements of the genre while somehow surpassing all expectations. The byzantine plot follows the seedy underbelly of insurance fraud, as insurance salesman Walter Neff (MacMurray) is approached by Phyllis Dietrichson (Stanwyck) to set up an accident insurance policy for her husband and then kill him. She serves as the femme fatale, really little more than a representation of man's greed and lust, wrapped up in a sexy little package called opportunity. We start the movie at its chronological conclusion, giving us a sense of fatalism inherent in all noirs, a realization that no matter how many times we see it, it will never end the way we want it to. And the ending rivals the best that cinema has to offer. With one simple sentence and one small gesture, we gain such a terrifying depth of understanding about the relationships between the main characters that are absent in typical noirs. Where most depend on archetypes, Double Indemnity separates itself from the rest of the flock by giving everyone such unique, personal characteristics that it is impossible not to feel for them. Especially when they lose it all.

"I killed him for the money. And for a woman. I didn't get the money. And I didn't get the woman." MacMurray speaks the stylized dialogue of the intro with the necessary coolness of a true antihero, and continues to deliver the hard-boiled jargon as if there were no other way to talk. The subtlety hiding beneath the words echoes the suspense and deepens our understanding of each personality: "I don't like [carrying matches]. They always explode in my pocket." Each word and each glance drowns you in information you will not comprehend until a second or third viewing. The cinematography is just as good, if not better, than the impeccable script. It uses harsh lighting to brilliant effect, often shadowing our protagonist in bars cast by window blinds. And Wilder ratchets up the tension with simple set pieces and efficient editing. I guarantee you will be watching this movie on the edge of your seat.

I simply cannot praise this movie enough. Film noir is my favorite genre and this is the reason why. Watch it, and then watch it again and again and again. You will not be disappointed.

IMDb link: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0036775/

The Apartment (1960)

4.9/5

Billy Wilder's The Apartment is pure moviemaking bliss that only he knows how to do. The movie stars Jack Lemmon as a nobody insurance agent who rents out his apartment to his bosses for several hours so they have somewhere to take their mistresses. He finds himself attracted to the elevator girl Shirley MacLaine, who unfortunately finds herself attracted to Lemmon's married boss, Fred MacMurray. Our hearts fill with empathy for Lemmon, seemingly the nicest man on earth, willing to sacrifice everything for others, and with sympathy for MacLaine, trapped by her love to a married man. And we find ourselves believing and trusting MacMurray. Every character is pitch perfect, achingly so.

Being written by Billy Wilder, the dialogue is flawless. While his writing makes every character endearing, it is the actors who make them full and rich and real. They are flawed, but so are we, and we see ourselves in the people on the screen. And we don't want to leave them when the movie ends. While Wilder writes a human story we can all relate to, he shoots it with the utmost precision. The cinematography in this movie is stunning; it is miles above every other romantic comedy I've seen. He lets scenes play out in mid and wide shots. He leaves room to breathe in long takes with dynamic blocking. He keeps the editing to a minimum and paces the film without a wasted second.

All in all, The Apartment is one of the finest romantic comedies ever made. Although not as high on my personal favorites as Roman Holiday and Annie Hall, it definitely beats out Chasing Amy and Knocked Up. They really knew how to make 'em back then. Especially Billy Wilder.

IMDb link: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0053604/