Laura (1944)
Deceiving Appearances:
Otto Preminger’s Classic Thriller Still Exerts Its Fascination
“I shall never forget the weekend Laura died,” intones an omniscient, disembodied voice over a dark screen. “A silver sun burned through the sky like a huge magnifying glass. It was the hottest Sunday in my recollection. I felt as if were the only human being left in New York.”
The camera moves across a lavish apartment. The voice continues—“I, Waldo Lydecker, was the only one who really knew her. And I had just begun to write Laura’s story when another of those detectives came to see me.”
The detective, Mark McPherson (Dana Andrews), strolls back across the room as Lydecker says, “I noted that his attention was fixed upon my clock. There was only one other in existence. And that was in Laura’s apartment; in the very room where she was murdered.”
McPherson opens a tall glass case and picks up an ornament. Suddenly, Lydecker’s voice becomes corporeal—“Careful there. That stuff is priceless.”
McPherson closes the glass door and enters the next room. There, in a huge bathroom complete with comfortable chairs and bookcases, he finds Lydecker (Clifton Webb), the noted newspaper columnist himself, seated in his bath, typing—his typewriter suspended across the bath.
McPherson questions Lydecker. Where was he on the evening Laura Hunt was murdered—killed by a shotgun blast to the face as she stood just inside the front door to her apartment? What was his relationship to the dead woman?
Then as McPherson is about to leave, Lyedecker asks if he can go with the detective. When McPherson asks why he wants to observe the investigation Lydecker’s reply is, “Murder is my favorite crime—I write about it regularly.” And when McPherson tells him he is a suspect, Lydecker responds, “Good. To have been overlooked would have been a pointed insult.”
The two men visit Laura’s aunt, Ann Treadwell (Judith Anderson). McPherson questions her about her relationship with Shelby Carpenter to whom she has been giving significant sums of money. Then, Shelby (Vincent Price), who apparently was going to marry Laura, appears from Ann’s bedroom. McPherson exploits the palpable tension between Lydecker, Shelby and Ann. All have there own concerns about Laura.
Otto Preminger directed the classic Laura in 1944, but it still retains all its power and fascination. In glittering flashbacks, the loquacious Lydecker tells McPherson the story of how Laura (Gene Tierney) first approached him, how he rebuffed her, and then later how he how he shaped and molded the glamorous, sophisticated and successful woman that she was to become—only to watch her become prey to the attentions of slick operators like Shelby.
McPherson becomes intoxicated with Lydecker’s vision of Laura. And it is intensified later, when alone he goes to Laura’s apartment, listens to her favorite melody (David Raskin’s haunting theme tune), drinks her liquor, and sits in one of her chairs beneath the huge framed picture of Laura—painted by one of her admirers—that dominates her apartment.
But nothing is quite what it first appears to be in Laura. The self-absorbed Shelby has another, more sympathetic side; the tough, calculating Ann has her vulnerabilities; the calm, methodical McPherson has a sadistic streak; at times, the dapper, cynical Lydecker can barely control his jealousy; and Laura is neither the sophisticate Lydecker describes, nor the simple broad that McPherson begins to suspect she may be.
Based on a novel by Vera Caspary, Laura is beautifully photographed by Joseph LaShelle and impeccably directed by Preminger. It is splendidly acted by Price, Anderson, Andrews, Webb, and Tierney who capture all the slithering ambiguities that lurk beneath the shimmering surface of this sophisticated mystery.
—John Bloomfield (July, 2004)
Otto Preminger’s Classic Thriller Still Exerts Its Fascination
“I shall never forget the weekend Laura died,” intones an omniscient, disembodied voice over a dark screen. “A silver sun burned through the sky like a huge magnifying glass. It was the hottest Sunday in my recollection. I felt as if were the only human being left in New York.”
The camera moves across a lavish apartment. The voice continues—“I, Waldo Lydecker, was the only one who really knew her. And I had just begun to write Laura’s story when another of those detectives came to see me.”
The detective, Mark McPherson (Dana Andrews), strolls back across the room as Lydecker says, “I noted that his attention was fixed upon my clock. There was only one other in existence. And that was in Laura’s apartment; in the very room where she was murdered.”
McPherson opens a tall glass case and picks up an ornament. Suddenly, Lydecker’s voice becomes corporeal—“Careful there. That stuff is priceless.”
McPherson closes the glass door and enters the next room. There, in a huge bathroom complete with comfortable chairs and bookcases, he finds Lydecker (Clifton Webb), the noted newspaper columnist himself, seated in his bath, typing—his typewriter suspended across the bath.
McPherson questions Lydecker. Where was he on the evening Laura Hunt was murdered—killed by a shotgun blast to the face as she stood just inside the front door to her apartment? What was his relationship to the dead woman?
Then as McPherson is about to leave, Lyedecker asks if he can go with the detective. When McPherson asks why he wants to observe the investigation Lydecker’s reply is, “Murder is my favorite crime—I write about it regularly.” And when McPherson tells him he is a suspect, Lydecker responds, “Good. To have been overlooked would have been a pointed insult.”
The two men visit Laura’s aunt, Ann Treadwell (Judith Anderson). McPherson questions her about her relationship with Shelby Carpenter to whom she has been giving significant sums of money. Then, Shelby (Vincent Price), who apparently was going to marry Laura, appears from Ann’s bedroom. McPherson exploits the palpable tension between Lydecker, Shelby and Ann. All have there own concerns about Laura.
Otto Preminger directed the classic Laura in 1944, but it still retains all its power and fascination. In glittering flashbacks, the loquacious Lydecker tells McPherson the story of how Laura (Gene Tierney) first approached him, how he rebuffed her, and then later how he how he shaped and molded the glamorous, sophisticated and successful woman that she was to become—only to watch her become prey to the attentions of slick operators like Shelby.
McPherson becomes intoxicated with Lydecker’s vision of Laura. And it is intensified later, when alone he goes to Laura’s apartment, listens to her favorite melody (David Raskin’s haunting theme tune), drinks her liquor, and sits in one of her chairs beneath the huge framed picture of Laura—painted by one of her admirers—that dominates her apartment.
But nothing is quite what it first appears to be in Laura. The self-absorbed Shelby has another, more sympathetic side; the tough, calculating Ann has her vulnerabilities; the calm, methodical McPherson has a sadistic streak; at times, the dapper, cynical Lydecker can barely control his jealousy; and Laura is neither the sophisticate Lydecker describes, nor the simple broad that McPherson begins to suspect she may be.
Based on a novel by Vera Caspary, Laura is beautifully photographed by Joseph LaShelle and impeccably directed by Preminger. It is splendidly acted by Price, Anderson, Andrews, Webb, and Tierney who capture all the slithering ambiguities that lurk beneath the shimmering surface of this sophisticated mystery.
—John Bloomfield (July, 2004)
posted by John Bloomfield at 7:01 PM
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