More icing than cake, Henry Hathaway's vivid postcard-noir 'Niagara' does manage to impress as both rising-star showcase for a breathtaking, 26 year old Marilyn Monroe - and as an engrossing, if underwritten, Technicolor thriller that while not entirely respectable - remains highly enjoyable.
Arriving at the falls for a long-delayed honeymoon, buoyant Polly and Ray Cutler (Casey Adams, Jean Peters) cross paths with fellow travellers George and Rose Loomis (Joseph Cotten, Marilyn Monroe) - a May/December couple on the other end of their marriage who, with their public displays of friction, seem dead set on giving the titular spectacle some competition.
Like spectators at a fiery race-track smash-up, there isn't a whole hell of a lot the Cutlers can do to extinguish the home-fires burning in cabin 'B', especially when it's occupants are regularly adding fuel. A platinum-blonde supernova of sexuality, Rose has tired of her aging veteran - and enlists her hunky young secret lover to murder the surly cuckold. But the plan to eliminate George and make it look like a suicide or disappearance backfires when during the offscreen surprise attack George holds his ground, and then some.
Having kicked into full noir gear, 'Niagara' then undergoes a precipitous darkening, as the Cutler (sub)plot recedes into the background and the viewer is rewarded with several dark treats - including a character's heart-stopping moment of clarity during a morgue corpse-identification; another's desperate plea to be allowed an illicit identity swap; and a bravura murder set-piece that echoes Hitchcock's distinctive stylishness.
Despite this strong, twisty mid-section - the film is saddled with a superfluous and damaging final act which, rather than building to a crescendo, oddly drains the story of any accumulated tension.
Drenched in metaphor, 'Niagara's threadbare plot is somewhat fortified by the obvious device that is the Cutlers - who represent the more happy and stable mid-20th century couple (despite the occasional awkward moment wherein they admire Rose's, er, assets). Ray, a soggy flake of a breakfast cereal executive, and Polly his attractive and good-hearted wife, get quite a bit more than they bargained for on this particular honeymoon - and it's fun to see the drama unfold from their ringside seats. Adams, (who wasn't giving Brando any sleepless nights) does what he's asked I suppose, but his grating, two-dimensional performance distracts - and you almost wish that his infinitely more likeable wife would take up with a secret lover herself.
The usually reliable Peters doesn't disappoint though, and it occurred to me that a plotline featuring her character as a single 'Nancy Drew'-ish type becoming entangled in the Loomis' domestic mess might've been taken more
seriously - and given the film the noir edge it often lacks. Peter's Polly makes a connection with George, albeit more out of empathy and pity than attraction - and she does make a fine 'good girl' in the 'good girl'/'bad girl' dynamic present. Making the most of his sketchy role, Cotten is occasionally riveting in what could have been an invisible turn. His bitter George is an unstable, pain-racked dupe who alternately elicits fear and sympathy.
Finally there is Monroe's Rose, a Technicolor siren who singes the screen as few others could. Her character's introduction/development happens in record time - a single wide shot of her laying in bed, apparently nude, legs askew. More a symbol than a flesh and blood dame, Rose embodies all that men desire but can never fully control - which makes George's psychosis understandable, logical, inevitable. One standout sequence (and a personal fave) begins with Rose exiting her cabin in a form-fitting dress that doesn't seem to have been put on so much as ignited. Partying with fellow vacationers, she asks that her favorite record be played - and sings along with it when it is. George, watching through their cabin's blinds, recognizes the song as the one that reminds Rose of another man. Bolting out to crush the disc, the least of George's concerns is public humiliation - but it should be, as an embarrassing display will ultimately strengthen the theory that he took his own life or vanished. Madness by design.
'Niagara' may not be essential viewing for the noir enthusiast (if The Big Sleep and Double Indemnity are leather-bound classics - 'Niagara' is a beach paperback), but Hathaway and lenser Joe McDonald did craft a handsome and entertaining adult thriller that foregrounds human ugliness against a mesmerizing natural backdrop - paralleling their respective powers.
Deeply flawed but undeniably fun, 'Niagara's scenic wonders and pulpy, sex-charged plot help distinguish it as a colorful standout from the classic era.
Written by Dave
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