The One in Which Noir is Totally a Genre

            Paul Schrader is adamant that film noir is not a genre but a period of cinematic history that dealt with deeper and darker subjects matter than most films that came before or after it do. After defending the integrity of film noir against the generic filing cabinet that is “genre,” he goes on to define film noir, fitting it nicely into Buscombe’s formula for a genre. One of Buscombe’s most incisive points is the distinction between and interdependency on the inner and outer form of a film. His example, westerns, was a fantastic example of the formula, but could easily be applied to film noir. Using Schrader’s own points of style and theme, The Maltese Falcon as an example, and Buscombe’s definition of a genre it is clear that film noir easily fits into a definition of genre and is, thus, subject to genre theory and criticsm.

            Just as Buscombe began by describing the outer forms generally found in a western (plain setting, western clothing, guns, horses, trains) so Schrader outlines specific stylistics of film noir. The first and most obvious is the lighting. Influenced by German expressionism, the lighting is used to offset the more realistic sets utilized during this time. The settings in Maltese were still quite staged and there weren’t too many outdoor scenes, which would become the norm just a few years later, but many consider Maltese to be the beginning of film noir so there are obvious studio remnants throughout. The lighting, however, does have that jarring unease the Schrader mentions. Poorly lit faces, use of shadows, and even the symbolic striped motif of Brigid is enhanced by the shadows.

            Another of the obvious styles utilized was the compositional tension rather than action. As this is just at the beginning of film noir’s heyday, talk is still used heavily. There are hardly any physical confrontations and if there are, they last a mere second or two and then it’s back to talking. The camera and actors don’t move much, instead often sitting in the same location for minutes as they discuss what’s happened or what’s going to happen. The final scene, when Sam, Brigid, and the fat man (plus his lackeys) are facing off in Sam’s apartment, is a significant portion of the film. They talk about the bird, about how they’re going to get away with it, about how they’re going to get revenge, but all it is, in the end, is talk.

            Poetic and dramatic narration is used in film noir so often that it is almost impossible to use in any other setting. Although Maltese didn’t have a voice-over to introduce us to the story or the life of a PI, Bogart’s character uses his dialogue to provide a lot of the same information and tone that later film noir would adapt into voice-over narration. In the end he explains to Brigid:

           

                        When a man's partner is killed, he's supposed to do something about it. It doesn't make any difference what you thought of him. He was your partner and you're supposed to do something about it. And it happens we're in the detective business. Well, when one of your organization gets killed, it's bad business to let the killer get away with it, bad all around, bad for every detective everywhere.

This explanation for his seemingly contradictory actions (loving Brigid but turning her in) is the sort of realism that film noir begins to explore.

            Buscombe explains that it’s these outer forms that determine the inner form. A certain type of setting filled with certain types of characters wearing and holding certain types of things lends itself to a certain type of story. This holds true for noir as well. Later noir films would focus on some of the other stylistic aspects mentioned by Schrader like an ever-presence of water as well as non-linear story-telling. These combined with those found in Maltese create a story that has to be about inner struggle between hope and hopelessness. The gritty street settings and harsh lighting begs for a corrupt cop or congressman and doesn’t let its characters have a happy ending.

            One of the themes that Schrader specifically spells out as being commonly found in noir films is that of insecurity and a lack of clear priorities. The combination of realistic settings and cinematic lighting creates an unease, and an insecurity in the audience. For years Hollywood had produced cookie cutter movies, brightly lit, happy families. Now that audiences were more aware of their own doubts in the validity of the American dream, movies began to reflect that doubt. Confusion is obvious in the storylines and within the minds of characters themselves. Both Brigid and the Fat Man are after the same thing: The falcon. Sam has to decipher for himself who is lying and about what as the audience tries to keep up. Brigid is a notable display of contorted priorities. When first introduced we think she is an innocent girl from the east coast just looking for her sister. When we find out later that she fabricated the whole story, stole a priceless artifact, and killed a man we realize that this woman would go to any length to get what she wants. Emotional and mental abuse and manipulation of others is nothing she thinks twice about. It reflects the morphing of traditional American values into the hardened and self-centered people we were becoming.

            Schrader mentions many more styles common for film noir and furthers his explanation of themes and tone. Even with just one example of noir, Buscombe’s general formula, and Schrader’s own comments, though, it’s obvious to see how film noir is not only labeled as a genre but studied and critiqued as one.