Double Indemnity (Special Edition) (1944) | DVD Review

The term quintessential gets bandied about quite a bit, often inappropriately, in reference to a film that stands out in its genre. Double Indemnity is one of the rare films that live up to that measure. A quintessential film is one that not only meets the understood criteria for inclusion in the genre, but defines and sets the benchmark for what that criteria is. Double Indemnity’s dark frames lit though the open slats of Venetian blinds, its blond cash and sex-addicted femme fatale, and its grim yet satisfying ending, set the standard for Film Noir.

Fred MacMurry plays Walter Neff an insurance rep who gets seduced by Phyllis Dietrichson, played by Barbara Stanwyck, into murdering her husband for the big insurance payoff and the promise of a little extra personal time between the sheets with the “grieving widow”. The title of the film being provided by the name for a common insurance clause that allows for twice the payout in the case of accidental death. So they decide to plan a little accident.

We know right from the beginning of the film that things don’t go according to plan thanks to an opening scene of a bullet-riddled Neff tape-recording his confession, but we are drawn in immediately by our desire to know how it went wrong and why.

The film was directed by Billy Wilder who, with Raymond Chandler, co-wrote the screenplay based on an 8-part serial of the same title by James M. Cain, which was later published as a novella. It was Wilder’s 3rd time out as a director, and while his first two films are rather pedestrian in form, he used this opportunity to take risks in lighting, framing and movement that have since been so frequently and continually “Hommaged” for so long that those who have emulated his work in this film in the past, are now having their own versions of what Wilder did, mimicked as if it were a form of hand-me-down filmmaking.

Beyond the historical impact and “film student required viewing” nature of Double Indemnity, there lies a great story about greed, deception and lust that paints a grim picture of how our desires can lead us into dark places.

Having previously only ever seen this film played on a worn out VHS from the video store, the beautifully remastered picture and sound give this film a whole new life with darker blacks and brighter whites creating sharp contrasts that give it an even edgier feel.

In the film, Neff makes a remark about murder smelling like honeysuckle. Well the bonus features on this “special edition” just suck, Honey.

The so-called documentary, Shadows of Suspense promises a “Plunge into the world of 1940’s Hollywood with a revealing look at a movie masterpiece.” What we get is a paint-by-the-numbers interview piece with a bunch of critics along with a few filmmakers and writers thrown in for good measure (most notably William Freidkin and James Ellroy) who give an almost text book like recounting of stories that they heard other people tell about the making of the movie.

Every time that you want to watch this film; you will first be greeted by Mr. Robert Osborne, host of Turner Classic Movies, who introduces the film by giving you an oral summary of everything that he learned about the movie from watching the aforementioned Shadows of Suspense. This is just plain unnecessary and annoying.

We get two commentaries with this edition, and upon hearing that you might think to yourself that you are getting spoiled. Think again.

The first commentary is provided by film historian Richard Shickle who’s slurred speech makes him sound drunk and his largely un-insightful comments make him seem disinterested and pretentious. Though while listening to him I could shake the feeling of familiarity that I got from what I was hearing. Suddenly I realized that he too must have seen Shadows of Suspense.

The second commentary is much better with an excited and enthusiastic historian/screenwriter, Lem Dobbs, exchanging a back and forth sharing of ideas with historian Nick Redman. Including a ponderance on the proper plural designation of more than one film noir. (Film Noirs or Films Noir – Discuss).

The cover box for the DVD boldly informs buyers that this is a two disc set. Indeed, we get a double dose of Double Indemnity that feels more like an over-dose.

The second disk is solely dedicated to the issue of a 1973 made for TV remake that is so bad that you kind of feel sorry for the disc that its printed on. When Richard Cenna in the MacMurry role starts confessing to his tape recorder, I somehow managed to keep in check my gag reflex. Anyone who has seen this debacle can tell after the first 15 minutes (if they last that long) that this atrocity should never have seen the light of day in the first place. Why the hell would Universal include it with this set???

After I wiped the blood from my eyes I took the disc out of my DVD player, most definitely for the last time, and I actually considered just throwing it in the trash.

Apparently after the remake made its televised debut Billy Wilder called up Barbara Stanwyck and said simply “They didn’t get it right.” At least that’s what they say happened in Shadows of Suspense.

Given the importance of this film one would’ve hoped that a certain amount of care and effort would’ve been put into the extras. However Double Indemnity is a great film and while the extra features leave a great deal to be desired, the movie alone is worth the purchase.

Movie rating – 5

Disc Rating – 2