The Man I Love (1947)

Posted by JeffMarkham

The Man I Love may not even be a true noir, every character in this story has a clear control over their fate and by each's own choice decides to go down an unhappy road, no fate or bad luck comes into play for these individuals. It lacks the hard boiled style of a Phil Karlson picture, and for that matter, how surprising is it to see that it's director happens to be Raoul Walsh, the Raoul Walsh who gave us the raw and realistic They Drive by Night (also featuring Lupino and co-star Alan Hale) and the brutal, ultra hard boiled gangster-noir hybrid White Heat. Who'd have thought that, for a director who seems to save any sort of sentimentality until his films final moments, would give us a whole picture full of characters whom only seemed to have felt melancholy, wistfulness, and regret? This is not the noir of the class of Spillane, nor is it of some sort of poetic tragedy like that of Out of the Past, but this is like something out of Edward Hopper's Nighthawks painting, all about a group of unhappy people in the big city...and if that isn't as noir as the former two, what is?

The film begins in some nightclub in New York City, decked out in WB’s signature set-design/lighting style, where a few ‘crazies’ play the title song in an after-hours jam session. In my favorite introduction of hers, Ida Lupino enters the frame smoking a cigarette (in a way only she could do) belting out the Gershwin tune with that wonderful booze soaked voice of hers (well, almost, she’s dubbed by Peg La Centra, but it’s very close to her raspy smoldering singing voice in Road House and Private Hell 36), walking around giving the band members a drag of her cig. This scene’s worth the price of admission of the film alone, Ida’s never been as world weary and seductive (singing as if she’s singing to each band member just with him in mind), and we find out a minute later her character lives up to her rendition of that song: she’s running away from New York City and seeking temporary refuge at her family’s place in San Francisco. It’s never made clear what she’s running away from, because Petey’s far too cool and collected to let any of her guard down.

Enter her family in San Francisco, and what a surprise to see who her sisters are, WB’s two other contract femme fatales, Martha Vickers and Andrea King! Of course, these two women who were bad to the bone in The Big Sleep and Ride the Pink Horse couldn’t be any more wholesome than they are here. Ginny (Vickers) spends her time locked in their apartment baby sitting the rotten Dolores Moran’s twin babies, or waiting for the opportunity. Andrea King is dressed up in full hausfrau garb as Sally, spending the majority of the film more or less cleaning and remaining faithful to her husband that’s institutionalized, fending off advances of nightclub owner/racketeer Nicky Toresca (Robert Alda), whose got the fourth and most crooked family member, Joe, rapped up doing dirty work. When Petey hears of this man who couldn’t be more predatory to her sister and corrupting her brother, what does the feistiest member of the family do? Well what any other normal sister would do, go after the guy, become his girl, and get a job as a singer at his nightclub!

But as it turns out, Nicky really is not the man Petey loves. ‘Commitment’ is not apart of either’s vocabulary, and matters only worse when Nicky more and more wants to own the wild and free Petey as his prize trophy of the many mistresses he keeps around his club (including Moran). Petey, in the meanwhile, finds, as if for the first time, someone whom she can love selflessly. That is in the form of San Thomas, played by Bruce Bennett in what has to be his best performance. San is a dark, brooding musician haunted by a woman and his past, a kindred spirit who Petey can easily connect to. But whereas Petey moves begins a new life time and time again, San wanders aimlessly still feeling pain of the heartbreak a woman once caused him. Though the plot attempts to veer back into crime territory as Nicky, Joe, and Gloria become increasingly problematic (and one has to be dealt with), the relationship between these two drifters is far more the interesting story.

This film is unlike any noir I’ve seen even though it lacks anything particularly outrageous. This is basically a character study of characters unhappy with their lives and yet unwilling to grow. Ginny refuses to leave the house and has no interest to date men of any kind (even though many would give her the perfect domestic lifestyle this character seeks), including Gloria’s gentle and weak husband Johnny who seems to take an interest in her. Gloria is young and seeks a fast life of fun, but she couldn’t have made two bigger mistakes: to get married and have kids. Johnny himself is completely head over heels for this femme fatale who walks all over him. Joe isn’t cut out for a life of crime as he lacks the guts to do any real kind dirty work (and yellows out when given the opportunity), but still fancies himself as a tough hood to the end. The only two level headed characters may be Sally and (by the film’s end) Johnny, but something is even off there with their young son who seems to lack any emotion or affection towards anyone other than his parents. Nicky continues disappointing himself going after unattainable women like Sally and Petey and in his desperate measure loses the girl and his whole tiny empire. San refuses to move on from his torment and allow himself to love someone who cares for him, and seems almost content with his life living alone at sea and spending his time thinking of the woman who left him behind. Petey will probably move around again and again as she states to San by the film’s ending, and she seems happy with this choice at the end. In this noir story, it is not really that nobody wins, no one really wants to win.

Given the lack of plot and direction in the script and the film’s two year delay (shot in '45), there is no doubt this must have been a messy schedule. The Breen office required many script revisions and the film became over budget and over production schedule. I did not really notice such a lack of direction and messiness until post-viewing looking back at it, during the film it had such razor sharp dialogue and distinguishable characters I couldn’t even notice.

Originally, the film was originally set to star Ann Sheridan and Humphrey Bogart, and the script looks as if Bennett’s role seems to be something tailor-made for John Garfield, but I can’t imagine Sheridan holding a candle to Lupino, and I think Sheridan’s very talented, but Lupino really strikes a chord when playing these women. Though her body of work may not have been as ‘prominent’ as WB’s higher totem poled A-actress Bette Davis, she brings magic to every piece of work she does in front of and behind camera, and it is at it’s most powerful in the final moment. As for Bennett, this shows he was far better than being thrown in with WB’s cardboard cutout 2nd fiddle leading men like Paul Henreid and George Brent, this is a role he gives such quiet a pain and anger, you can barely recognize him from Monty Pierce. If there’s one performance Bennett should be remembered for rather than being a golden age actor who lived to such an old age, this (along with Treasure of the Sierra Madre) should be it. Sure this films filled with flaws, but the presence of Walsh at his most sentimental, Lupino at her most magical, with that smoky Gershwin song to accompany the story make this movie just special from the rest.

Click to play trailer