It’s a Noir World After All:

The Noirish Attributes of L.A. Confidential

 

 

From 1941 to 1958, there were many films noir produced in America. These films represented a darker side of American film. It was dark not only visually but also thematically. Most of these films involved one or more murders, had flawed but sympathetic heroes, and usually had a femme fatale as well. These were themes that were certainly not being expressed in the mainstream movies that were being produced during that time. Starting in the 1970s, every so often a filmmaker would make a film that fit in with the classic film noir style. These films were called “neo-noir” films, and occasionally an excellent one would come out, which would really harken back to the golden days of film noir. In 1997, one of these films was released. It was called L.A. Confidential. L.A. Confidential combines many elements of classic films noir and the result is a wonderful movie that serves almost as a tribute to the genre of film noir. In this paper, the noirish elements of L.A. Confidential will be discussed, and through the discussion of these elements, L.A. Confidential’s contributions to the neo-noir movement will be detailed.

            L.A. Confidential possesses all the superficial elements of films noir from the 1940s and 1950s. For starters, the film is set in the 1950s. Also, there are several murders throughout the film, just as there are in several classic films noir. The police investigate the murders, and there is corruption within the police force. However, all of these elements wouldn’t amount to a thing if the movie weren’t written as well as it is. After all, if the superficial aspects of films were all that were taken into account, then many movies could be seen as neo-noir. Excellent writing is what separates neo-noirs from the rest of the pack, and there is plenty of excellent writing in L.A. Confidential.

Like some classics of film noir, such as The Killers and The Big Sleep, L.A. Confidential began life on the printed page. It was originally a novel written by James Ellroy. Director Curtis Hanson and Brian Helgeland collaborated in adapting the novel to film, and they were rewarded for their efforts in the form of a 1997 Academy Award for Best Adapted Screenplay for L.A. Confidential. Set in Los Angeles, L.A. Confidential richly details some of the nastier attributes of the naked city. The dialogue is excellent as well, with many memorable lines emerging from the film. Moreover, the characters are all drawn very well, and seem quite real. In fact, noted film critic Roger Ebert has written that an hour into the movie, he “felt inside a Raymond Chandler novel” (Ebert 2). Chandler, of course, co-wrote Double Indemnity and penned the novel version of The Big Sleep. To be compared to a work of Chandler is not only high praise, it also helps to establish L.A. Confidential as a work of neo-noir. Ebert is not far off the mark. L.A. Confidential works so well that, had it been filmed some forty years before, it easily could have been counted among the classics of film noir.

L.A. Confidential’s story takes many twists and turns, just like a good film noir should. It begins with an extended title sequence that shows stock film footage, apparently from newsreels and short subjects from the 1950s, which, as mentioned before, is when L.A. Confidential is set. The footage is intermixed with clips of a few characters from the movie. The voice of Sid Hudgeons (Danny DeVito), a writer for a tabloid magazine entitled Hush-Hush, is heard over the footage. Hudgeons describes some of the nastier aspects of life in Los Angeles, and contrasts it with the wholesome image the American public has of life in Los Angeles.

Here is where the use of the vintage footage comes in very nicely. The 1950s media, especially mainstream film and television, generally presented an overly pleasant view of life By using the footage to illustrate Hudgeons’ description of the view the public has about Los Angeles, Hanson creates a brief but effective commentary on mainstream American culture during the 1950s. Also, he creates an effective commentary on the 1990s and its view of the 1950s. For a time, the decade of the 1950s were looked back almost exclusively with fondness. By exposing the dark underbelly of American life in the 1950s (just as the films noir of the period did), Hanson displays a view of the 1950s that is consistent with the typical, rather cynical view of life that existed in the 1990s. Of course, the view may not be all that cynical, and may indeed be quite realistic. Given the current state of affairs in Los Angeles, the latter may be true. However, regardless of whether or not the view is cynical, the fact remains that L.A. Confidential’s view of 1950s life is pretty dissenting with previous decades’ view of the 1950s. It should also be noted that, while unfavorable views of the 1950s began to surface more often in the 1990s than in previous decades, for the most part the 1990s’ view of the 1950s was still a pleasant one. By showing the dark side of life of the 1950s, L.A. Confidential removes itself a bit from the mainstream, just as the classic films noir did.

The title sequence, which not only introduces Hudgeons to the audience but also introduces the character of Meyer Harris “Mickey” Cohen (Paul Guilfoyle), is no doubt an interesting one. Interesting title sequences are not seen as one of the foundations of film noir, and nor should they be. However, it is indisputable that there have been interesting title sequences in several classic films noir, such as Kiss Me Deadly, Touch of Evil, and even Double Indemnity, with its foreshadowing title sequence. Again, while the title sequence alone does not classify L.A. Confidential as a neo-noir, it adds one more similarity between L.A. Confidential and the films noir of years past.

After the title sequence, three characters are, one by one, introduced to the audience. The way the characters get introduced is very interesting. Hanson has the characters’ names, along with their ranking with the Los Angeles Police Department, typed, in the manner of an old-fashioned typewriter, on screen. First Officer Wendell “Bud” White (Russell Crowe) is introduced, followed by Sergeant Edmund “Ed” Exley (Guy Pearce), who is then followed by Sergeant Jack Vincennes (Kevin Spacey). The manner in which these characters are introduced is interesting for a few reasons. First of all, the typing of the characters’ names helps to further establish the period in which the film is set. The typing also foreshadows the fact that the three characters will each fill out paperwork during the movie. Paperwork is generally viewed as the most tiresome aspect of police work, and the typing helps to emphasize that all three of the characters will have some grueling moments ahead of them (though not necessarily paperwork) as L.A. Confidential continues.

Finally, by not having to find verbal means to introduce the characters, Hanson lets the characters’ first scenes be important ones. Indeed, the first scenes of all three characters help establish what they are all about. Bud is first seen roughing up a wife beater and then handcuffing him to the house so that the beater can wait for the arresting officers to show up. This scene gives one an idea that Bud is a tough guy who doesn’t take any guff, which, as will be discussed later in this paper, is certainly true. Ed’s first scene, on the other hand, shows him in the police station, doing mandatory police business while serving desk duty. This scene makes Ed seem like a studious, “Just-the-facts” kind of guy. For the bulk of the movie, this certainly is the case with Ed. Finally, Jack is introduced not in the police station, or even doing police work, but rather on a Hollywood soundstage. Jack serves as the technical advisor for a Dragnet-type police show entitled “Badge of Honor.” Jack is shown in a fine-looking suit and talking with a good-looking young woman. He is depicted as a guy who seems to have a taste for the glamorous side of police life. As was the case with Ed, for the bulk of the movie, this proves to be true for Jack.

As the film continues, action ensues and we learn more about the characters. The first character we learn more about is Jack. Sid Hudgeons approaches Jack on the set of “Badge of Honor” and tells him that he’s got some information about young actor Matt Reynolds (Simon Baker-Denny) and a lady friend who have reportedly been smoking marijuana together. In exchange for first dibs on arresting the actor, as well as fifty dollars, Jack lets Sid snap a picture of him hauling the actor and his girlfriend off to jail. In fact, when they arrive at the place where Matt and his lady friend (who turns out to be a prostitute) are smoking the marijuana, Jack and Sid choreograph the whole arrest before it happens. Jack tells Sid to photograph the arrest with a movie marquee in the background (prompting Sid to predict the headline: “Movie Premiere Pot Bust!”), and that is just what happens, and Jack winds up with his picture in “Hush-Hush” magazine.

It is obvious that Jack has done this type of thing before. In fact, Sid’s line about paying Jack “the usual fifty dollars” is a dead giveaway that Jack is no stranger to payoffs. Jack’s penchant for payoffs undermines his character in two ways. First of all, it undermines his character in the way he is viewed by other members of the police department. His reputation of seeking the glamorous side of the police business prevents him from being taken very seriously as a police officer by his coworkers. Secondly, the payoffs undermine Jack’s character in the way he is viewed by the audience. The fact that Jack accepts payoffs makes him flawed. Now, at this point in the movie, the audience doesn’t know whether or not Jack is the hero of L.A. Confidential. However, it is pretty clear that Jack will be a good guy in the film. Therefore, Jack represents an incarnation of the flawed hero, which is a trademark of film noir. Throughout film noir, there have been flawed heroes, such as Sam Spade in The Maltese Falcon and Walter Neff in Double Indemnity. The trend even continues into neo-noir films, such as the character of Michael in Red Rock West. However, the flawed hero status of Jack is just a sample of things to come in L.A. Confidential, as Bud and Ed both turn out to be flawed heroes as well.

Shortly after this scene, Bud and his partner, Dick Stensland (Graham Beckel), are shown at the police station, after making a short stop at a liquor store to get some liquor for that night’s Christmas party at the station. Bud is filling out that day’s paperwork, while Dick is upstairs getting drunk (although it’s pretty obvious he had been drinking well beforehand). Meanwhile, some Mexican have been rounded up and brought in, in connection with the investigation of two officers who had been beaten up. Word spreads that the cop-beaters were brought in, and things begin to get out of hand. The extent of the officers’ injuries gets exaggerated, and a mob of policemen, led by Dick, go down to the holding cell to rough up the Mexicans. Jack, who had entered the station to book Matt and the prostitute only moments before, observes the riot-in-progress and tells Bud that he “better put a leash on [his] partner.”

Bud goes downstairs to try to put a handle on things, but soon loses his temper and also begins assaulting the Mexicans. This scene, perhaps moreso than Bud’s opening scene where he deals with the wife-beater, gives the audience an idea as to what he is all about. Bud is a nice guy, who tries to do his job well (as evidenced by him filling out the paperwork even while most of his coworkers are drinking and enjoying the Christmas party). He just has a short temper, and when he loses it he tends to get quite violent. Bud, like Jack, is a flawed hero. His flaws may not seem as large as Jack’s (after all, Jack seems to be in it for the money, whereas Bud doesn’t seem to care about the money; he just wants justice). They still exist, though. To make a comparison to classic film noir characters, Bud’s flaws are more along the lines of Sam Spade’s in The Maltese Falcon, whereas Jack’s are along the lines of Mike Hammer’s in Kiss Me Deadly.

Ed is involved in this scene, too, and it sets up the revelation of Ed’s flaws to the audience. Ed is working desk duty at the office, and he promptly rejects Jack’s money when he brings Matt and the prostitute to the station. It seems that Jack wants to share the wealth of his payoff, but Ed wants no part of it. Then, he tries valiantly to stop Dick from leading the others down to the holding cell where the Mexicans are at, but it doesn’t work. He tries again to break up the riot while it is happening, but, unlike Bud and Jack, he doesn’t get involved. He just tells the officers to stop the fighting. He then tells them that every one of them is going into his report.

So far, everything is okay as far as the audience’s opinion of him goes. Ed seems to have a good sense of ethics, and seems to want to do his job the best way he can. There’s not really anything wrong in that. It is the next day, though, when the newspapers cover the whole debacle, that Ed’s flaws surface. Ed is too eager to testify against any and all officers involved in the riot. He wants a promotion to detective lieutenant, which, we learn, is the same title his late father had. In fact, we learn that Ed and Jack share one crucial trait. They both are very attracted to the limelight. By agreeing to testify, Ed earns his promotion, but he also displays his crucial flaw to the audience. Ed seems to be interested only in himself, and will spurn anybody as long as he gets what he wants. This doesn’t help ingratiate Ed to the audience, as loyalty to others is a trait moviegoers like to look for in their heroes. Therefore, Ed, like Bud and Jack, is also a flawed hero. Interestingly, Jack’s major flaw is also emphasized in this sequence, even though it has been established before. Jack is adamantly opposed to testifying against anybody until he learns that his high-profile job on “Badge of Honor” may be in jeopardy if he doesn’t testify. He decides to testify, and this further shows his interest in the glamorous end of police business.

At this point, one may be wondering how there can be three heroes in L.A. Confidential. After all, even the most complex films noir of years past generally had only one hero. Well, in L.A. Confidential there are three heroes because there are three characters in the movie who really are heroes. Though only one of them kills the villain in the end, and one of them dies before the climax of the movie, all three are still heroes because they all work together in finding out the solution to the big mystery of the film. The question that they all try to solve is, ultimately, who is responsible for the gruesome murders known as the “Nite Owl Killings.” In fact, the death of one of the three by the end of the movie (and the near-death of another) just further helps to classify L.A. Confidential as a neo-noir. Often times in noir heroes wind up being killed either before the end of the movie or at the end, both in classic film noir and in neo-noir. Examples of the former include Bart Tare in Gun Crazy and (presumably) Mike Hammer in Kiss Me Deadly. Examples of the latter include Roy Dillon in The Grifters and Freddy Newendyke (Mr. Orange) in Reservoir Dogs.

Two of the three heroes of L.A. Confidential both learn something from each other, and, through their interactions with each other, they grow as characters. As the movie continues, Jack begins to reconsider his acceptance of payoffs by Sid Hudgeons. He decides finally to stop with all the payoffs after Matt, who Jack and Sid set up to have sex with the District Attorney, is killed. He begins to really think about himself and his job as a policeman. In fact, when Ed asks Jack why he became a policeman in the first place, Jack hesitates and then says “I don’t remember.” Upon hearing Ed’s reasons for becoming a policeman, Jack feels redeemed as a policeman, and decides to get on the right track. Unfortunately, his redemption proves to be short-lived, as he is soon killed.

Ed also grows as a character as the movie continues, and part of this is spurred by Jack. Ed learns that he doesn’t have to be a straight-arrow type all the time. He can still do right as a police officer, and go out and get his man, but he doesn’t have to be so strict about it. Ed sees that his prickly attitude has left him with no friends, and he seems somewhat envious of Jack’s many friendships. Jack may not be respected among the top brass of the L.A.P.D., but he does have many friends. Just as Jack learned that a glamorous lifestyle can still be empty, Ed learns that playing by the rules doesn’t always get you what you want.

Meanwhile, Bud is growing as a character thanks to his relationship with Lynn Bracken (Kim Basinger). Lynne is L.A. Confidential’s femme fatale. The femme fatale is, of course, a convention of film noir. In fitting with the femme fatale mold, Lynne is a prostitute who works for Pierce Patchett (David Strathairn), who may or may not be mixed up in some illegal activity (well, other than prostitution). Although Lynne is supposedly made up to look like Veronica Lake, she also seems to resemble Barbara Stanwyck in Double Indemnity. However, the character of Lynne is nowhere near as much of a femme fatale as Phyllis Dietrichson. In fact, Lynne is kind of a cross between a femme fatale and a femme noir. Not only does she help Bud to grow (by giving him credit for being an intelligent, sensitive man), she also helps Ed to grow by letting him know, just as Jack did, that he needs to be less job-focused and care more about the actual people in the job.

It has been established that L.A. Confidential meets the standards of film noir in its three flawed heroes, its femme fatale (who is also a femme noir), and even its title sequence. It also meets the standards of a good film noir in one other arena: corruption in the police force. Boy, is there ever corruption in the police force in L.A. Confidential. Captain Dudley Smith (James Cromwell) is probably the most corrupt member of the police in a noir film (film noir or neo-noir) since Hank Quinlan in Touch of Evil. Not only is Dudley behind the Nite Owl Murders, he also kills Jack, Sid Hudgeons, and tries to have Bud kill Ed. Just before Jack draws his last breath, he says to Dudley, “You’re Rollo Tomasi.” Rollo Tomasi is a name that Ed made up for “the guys who thought they could get away with it.” Dudley really is Rollo Tomasi, or at least it seems he is. In the end, Ed finally kills him. However, in a way, Dudley still gets away with it. Rather than expose Dudley and the brass of the police force for all their corruption, Ed accepts a deal from the police that nets him a medal and a nice ceremony. This is L.A. Confidential’s finest twist. Ed’s attraction to the limelight is just too much for him. As Lynne tells Ed in the film’s final scene, “You just couldn’t resist.”

Another aspect of L.A. Confidential that helps to classify it as a neo-noir is its crackling dialogue. Most films noir of the classic period, from Double Indemnity to The Big Sleep to Touch of Evil, are known for excellent dialogue. Even more recent neo-noirs, such as Red Rock West, have some great dialogue. L.A. Confidential is no exception. As was mentioned before, Roger Ebert compared the writing to that of Raymond Chandler. There are many great lines. One such line is when Dudley says to Bud, “I admire you as a policeman, particularly your adherence to violence as a necessary adjunct to the job.” Later in the movie, Dudley asks Bud, “Do you follow my drift?” To which Bud responds, “In Technicolor, sir.” There are also many other great lines, far too many to be recited in this paper.

For all its noir goodness, there are a couple of ways that L.A. Confidential differs from classic films noir. The first, and most noticeable, is the film’s use of language. There is no Hayes Code anymore, so much, much more can be said than was allowed to be said in the 1940s and 1950s. Hanson has a little fun with this fact. At one point, Lynne says to Bud, “You say ‘fuck’ a lot.” The loss of the Hayes Code also meant L.A. Confidential could be a lot more sexually explicit and a good deal more violent than films noir of yore.

There is another way in which L.A. Confidential differs from other films noir and neo-noirs, and that’s in part of the technical arena. Aside from a scene outside of a liquor store and a rather lengthy sequence during a rainstorm, there are not many interesting visual techniques until the climax of the film, during which there is some very interesting lighting. The beams from the various headlights from vehicles surrounding the house peer in through holes in the boarded-up windows, and the result is a very nice visual. However, this is in contrast to other films noir, such as Double Indemnity, Touch of Evil, and even neo-noirs such as Red Rock West, which employ interesting visuals and lighting techniques virtually throughout the movie.

One part of the technical arena where L.A. Confidential is similar to other films noir and neo-noirs is the budget. The film seems to be shot on a fairly low budget, which is a convention of film noir. Of course, the film is color, and, as such, is on a faster film stock than the black-and-white films noir, but a low budget is still a low budget. Low budgets, police corruption, femme fatales, flawed heroes, and interesting title sequences are all things that L.A. Confidential has in common with classic films noir. That is more than enough evidence to classify the movie as a neo-noir. The fact that it is also an excellent film to boot is a nice bonus

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

WORK CITED

 

Ebert, Roger. “L.A. Confidential.” Chicago Sun-Times. September 19, 1997. http://www.suntimes.com/ebert/ebert_reviews/1997/09/091903.html

 

 

 

 

 

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