The Black Dahlia (2006)
Monday, September 18th, 2006
Directed by: Brian De Palma
Cast: Josh Hartnett, Scarlett Johansson, Aaron Eckhart, Hilary Swank, Mia Kirshner, Mike Starr and Fiona Shaw
Runtime: 121 min.
Rating: R
Trailer
There are certain undeniable truths to every Brian De Palma film: long point of view shots, femme fatales, kinky sex, and the dangerous allure of voyeurism. And in The Black Dahlia, the adaptation of James Elroy’s novel, De Palma unapologetically unleashes his peculiar bag of tricks to create a bizarre, violent, and at times, a funny film noir tribute. Audiences less familiar with his style may find De Palma’s cinematic tricks as obtrusive and shallow to the point of ridiculousness, and in a way, they would be right, but what sets him apart from the generic, paint-by-numbers approach is his self-reflexivity, which breathes life into a genre begging for references to previous films. Moreover, everything Brick got wrong with the genre, The Black Dahlia gets right.
The plot is straight film noir. While investigating a corruption scandal involving a psychopathic killer recently released from prison, two hardboiled detectives – Dwight “Bucky” Bleichert (Josh Hartnett) and Leland “Lee” Blanchard (Aaron Eckhart), both moonlighting as rival boxers for their precinct – stumble on the gruesome crime scene of Elizabeth Short, a young wannabe actor savagely butchered, disembowelled, and gruesomely tortured. Even in setting up what undoubtedly is one of the most famous Hollywood crime scenes (with the possible exception of the Nicole Brown crime scene) De Palma never betrays his iconoclastic reputation as an unflappable visual director. The body is discovered as Bleichert and Blanchard are just finishing a shootout with a wanted criminal at a local motel, but the audience notices the body during a long shot high above the shootout and in the distance. When the police surround the dismembered body, De Palma shoots from the lifeless eyes of Elizabeth Short, capturing the police officers in a semi circle, looking down and surrounding the body.
Considering the amount of attention usually given by De Palma to bloody, operatic crime scenes of past films, and his restraint is curious, but understandable. This is apparent later during a meeting with Bleichert and the parents of Madeleine Linscott (Hillary Swank) - a viciously delicious high class femme fatale – that is captured strictly through the same point of view device De Palma employed in countless other films (the opening of Blow Out and the famous opening scene of Snake Eyes).
Repeatedly, Brian De Palma harkens back to his favourite narrative device: the audience as voyeurs. Nowhere is this more evident than the touching scenes that play out in film tests of Elizabeth Short (Mia Kirshner) months before she is murdered. During these black and white audition reels, Elizabeth comes across as a wannabe actress hell-bent on making it big, but resigned to the fact that behind those big black eyes, she is a child craving attention. The calls of the director (voiced by De Palma himself) crudely instruct her and, not so subtly, mock her attempts at connecting through the screen. While watching, Bleichert cannot help but sympathize with her, and so do we. However, do not worry; The Black Dahlia is not all brooding. De Palma shows off, and when he does, there usually is no one better. One sequence during the middle of the film harks back to not only the classic steps sequence in The Untouchables, but also to the virtuoso kills scenes of Dressed to Kill, Body Double, and the more recent Femme Fatale. Filmed in achingly creeping slow motion and backed with a full Bernard Hermann-like score on the soundtrack, the scene is one of De Palma’s most beautiful and violent, and easily compares to some of Hitchcock’s best work. The film is not for everyone though. Those looking for another L.A. Confidential will not find it here. The subtlety of character and rich storyline of the previous Ellroy adaptation is not as evident in The Black Dahlia, but as a hardboiled and steamy film noir, it sure packs a wallop.
Richard X
© Cinephile Magazine, 2006
