Founder rate ends 9th September.

We’re rebuilding theartsdesk to secure the future of real arts journalism. Be part of it by subscribing: if you do it now, the founders’ rate of just £40 yearly is yours FOR LIFE!

SUBSCRIBE NOW 

DVD: Laura

Otto Preminger's intricate film noir analyses the male need to turn women into illusions

share this article

Reality check: Gene Tierney and Dana Andrews in 'Laura'. The portrait was a painted photo of the actress.
20th Century-Fox

If not as ensnaring as Double IndemnityThe Big Sleep, or Out of the Past, Otto Preminger’s urbane police procedural Laura is one of the best film noirs because it transcends the genre. It is an inverted women’s picture – about the hubris of a successful career girl cum Galatea – a savage critique of the decadence of Manhattan high society, and a commentary on the neurotic idealisation of beautiful women.

It begins like Rebecca: the Wildean newspaper columnist Waldo Lydecker (Clifton Webb) musing, with the words “I shall never forget the weekend Laura died," on the buckshot-to-the-face homicide of the protégée, Laura Hunt (Gene Tierney), he monopolised. The crime is being investigated by a blunt cop, Mark McPherson (Dana Andrews), who’s bemused by the bitchy feuding over the corpse by the acid Waldo (pictured below right, with Laura) and the caddish Shelby Carpenter (Vincent Price), who believes Laura would have married him, notwithstanding his affair with the spineless Ann Treadwell (Judith Anderson).

Flashbacks establish that Laura was as unknowable in love as she was ambitious in advertising. The alluring portrait of her in her apartment captivates and disorients McPherson. Having fallen asleep below it, he wakes to the “ghost” of the real woman, concludes that someone else was slain, and adds Laura to the suspects. In the glare of the interrogation light, Laura is less a mystery woman than a hard-boiled sourpuss. But by now McPherson’s probing is that of the jealous lover, not the driven detective.

Nocturnal rain (and trenchcoats), and the shadows cast by light filtering through Venetian blinds insist that Laura is a noir, albeit a baroque one: Waldo’s and Laura’s twinned apartments are stuffed with antiques and geegaws, his feminine taste perfectly echoed by hers. That extends to McPherson, whose unapologetic masculinity shows up Waldo’s effeteness and Shelby’s unctuousness: in 1944, the movie said to the boys overseas, you, too, can aspire to a dame as breathtaking as Gene Tierney if you’re as tough as this New York dick.

Watch the recent BFI trailer for Laura


In the glare of the interrogation light, Laura is less a mystery woman than a hard-boiled sourpuss

rating

4

explore topics

share this article

Help secure the future of arts journalism

In this era of algorithmic recommendation, opaquely sponsored content and AI slop, theartsdesk’s mission to preserve real journalistic and critical values has never been more important.

If you like what you see here, please join us 
in this mission.

Subscribing to the site will help us in our coming 
redesign and expansion.


If you do this before the 9th September this will be at our guaranteed founder’s rate: 
your subs will never increase again.

Subscribe now for £5 per month. 
or yearly for just £40.

Or if you simply want to support us with a one-off donation, you can do so here.

more film

Dinosaurs hunt Anne Hathaway and Ewan McGregor through suburbia
Vicky Krieps fights to see her son and find herself in a defining role
Rites of passage at the kitchen pass; cooking up a coming-of-age romcom
George Jacques directs well meaning, uneven rom-com
Two masterpieces from a great 20th century animator
Soft seasonal vignettes set on a Finnish island
Spider-Man matures in a sporadically moving return
Life is sweet and sour in a closely observed film about Luton youth
Daft but endearing cult film, the first 'space musical'
The pioneering journalist E Jean Carroll's story is heartening, funny and troubling
A surprise Thai hit combines deadpan-dry humour with sharp-toothed social commentary
School shootings and social media alienation queasily satirised