Detour (1945)

[David]

Directed by Edgar G. Ulmer. Tom Neal (Al), Ann Savage (Vera)

In a phenomenon akin to the one wherein refrigerated leftovers seem to taste better when devoured well after midnight, many a 'B' noir programmer will seem infinitely more enjoyable when viewed in the wee-small-hours - when the time is just right for dashed dreams, and nightmarish scenarios. Edgar Ulmer's dimestore-doom classic casts it's spell irrespective of showtime, but a good 3am screening will convert almost any detractor, and fortify it's reputation as one of the sub-genre's purest distillations - and most perversely entertaining triumphs.

Written by Martin Goldsmith, who adapted the screenplay from his own 1939 novella in which the male and female protagonists share narrating duties within alternating his and hers chapters, Ulmer's streamlined 67 minute cinematic version focuses almost solely on the travails of Al Roberts (Roth, in the book) - a N.Y. nightclub pianist who finds himself at a figurative and literal crossroads when his singer-fiance leaves for the coast to make it big. The moody and self-defeating lug follows suit shortly thereafter, thumbing his way west (in laughably reversed shots) to resume their romance - but "fate, or some mysterious force" sticks out a foot to trip him - or so he would have us believe.

On a lonely stretch of southwestern highway, not terribly far from his destination, Al is picked up by one Charles Haskell - a gregarious big shot who pops unnamed pills between spinning yarns of estranged relatives and hot-tempered hitch-hikers. At one point during their ride when Al takes the wheel to let Haskell sleep, the sky opens - and Al pulls over to put the top up - but waking Haskell proves difficult, especially when Al opens the passenger door and the man spills out, smacking his head on a roadside rock. Convinced that Haskell's blood is on his hands and that the police will surely put him away, Al ignores the possibility that the pill-popper was gravely ill before hitting the ground - and swaps clothes, wallets, and identities with the corpse - leaving the body, and his former life, in the middle of nowhere.

With a big chunk of change, some snazzy new duds, and a secured ride to L.A., Al then makes another ill-advised move. Picking up a prickly tumbleweed named Vera - who recognizes the car and the clothes and the name, but not the face - he is coerced down to an even lower circle of hell when his new companion informs him that she has ridden with the real Haskell(!), and will drop dime if he doesn't agree to pose with her as husband and wife so that they may cash in on an imminent Haskell family inheritance. While spending interminable hours together in a motel room, an astonishingly unlikely twist of fate simultaneously liberates Al - and makes his situation unfathomably bleak....

Bookended by sequences in the present - and the likely future, Ulmer's pulpy tale of woe is nothing less than a staggeringly impressive feat of ingenuity over limitations. A cracked, blemished jewel - 'Detour' immerses the viewer in a celluloid comic-nightmare for just over an hour, but leaves one questioning the power of fate, of one's own choices, and the murky depths of unexamined motivations. Cheap sets and cheesy tricks aside, it is an artful piece - and one that lingers long in the memory.

The Al Roberts character should not be lumped in with other noir protagonists, as his reliability as storyteller is in question throughout. He laments his financial status, yet scoffs at a customer's generous tip. He speaks of his 'wonderful' romance with Sue, yet clearly they are of different temperaments. When debating whether to inform the authorities of Haskell's passing - doubting they'll believe the truth - he neglects to even investigate the man's medication and/or health. Al Roberts doesn't narrate the story we see - but the one he'd prefer we believe.

It's somewhat easier to swallow Al's choice to trade places with Haskell and cover up the ostensibly shady circumstances when one knows that he has already done a short stretch for theft. This plot point from the book, along with the passage detailing his reluctance to pick up any hitch-hikers while posing as Haskell (he feels sorry for Vera, and figures it will be a short, local lift) may make his actions in those filmed sequences appear more reasonable. One can only wonder if their omission was an artistic choice, or one of budgetary constraints.

Never a strong presence or memorable performer, Neal's turn as our integrity-challenged anti-hero is little more than passable. It hardly matters though - with a co-star one can't take their eyes off of anyway. With her windswept coif, (unwashed for ten days prior to filming) lacerating glare, and sped-up line delivery (a direction of Ulmer's), Savage commandeers the viewer's attention in much the same way she does Al's life. When they lock horns - it's clear who'll really man the wheel for the rest of their journey. A mere 24 at the time, Savage's uniquely sexy/repulsive powder-keg doesn't qualify as a textbook femme fatale, but remains one of the most memorable pick-ups along noir's highway - shifting from scolding shrew to seductive vixen and back again with breathtaking conviction and force. Before Al daydreams of his likely apprehension, he must first survive her - his waking nightmare.

[Steve-O]

This is pretty cool...

Matinee at the Bijou wanted to do a piece on Film Noir and selected David's piece on Detour.

You can see the article here: http://matineeatthebijou.blogspot.co...r-forever.html

Does anyone remember the show from PBS?

[David]

Thanks, man (I really want that 'Money Madness' title card!)

Yep, I remember watching it when I was a kid. Lots of fun.

[Eldorado Slim]

Hi,

This is my first post on the forum, so I thought I’d start by offering an alternate view of ‘Detour’ and see what kind of discussion ensues.

*** Warning: This post contains spoilers ***

So, here’s the disclaimer, right up front and with no strings attached -- ‘Detour’ is my favourite film noir. Granted, there are better produced pictures out there and I’ll readily agree there are better written ones as well, but for my money there really is no better example of a more economically efficient story-line in film noir.

Ok, now that I’ve got that out my system, its time to stake my claim and lay out the evidence. In this brief post, I propose to examine how Edgar G. Ulmer combines a universal dramatic device (which, for lack of a better term, I will call ‘the third law of dramatic plotting’), with the moral code demanded of movies at the time in order to produce his classic noir masterpiece ‘Detour’.

Much has already been said about the plague of flopped shots and strange edits contained in this movie. More than likely they’re due to the minuscule budget and draconian shooting restrictions afforded Ulmer by PRC, but personally I think they also work well within the context of the story he’s telling here.

For what its worth, I believe ‘Detour’ is initially propelled along its inevitable path by the $10 bill Al Roberts receives as a tip while playing piano at the ‘Break ‘O Dawn’ club. If the bill really was, as he suggests, covered in disease, then its not that far of a stretch to imagine him catching something from it. An ailment which in turn may have also produced some rather interesting self-induced hallucinations (the change in the size of the coffee cup during the diner scene comes to mind). This idea might also go a long way in explaining those much cited miscues mentioned above: as well as possibly shedding some light on the ‘trustworthiness’ of Roberts’ flashback narratives.

We could examine that angle, but lets save it for another time and discuss instead how the ‘third law’ motivates a plot. No doubt, we’ve all seen this device employed to some extent in a number of movies, but let’s review the idea briefly for the sake of clarity. The ‘law’ simply revolves around the idea that you can set up an audience’s expectations by presenting a particular dramatic event the same way twice before creating a plot twist, or swerve, with its third appearance. So, now lets take that idea and combine it with the ‘moral’ mandate movies were held to during this era.

Basically, the ‘dramatic moral code’ of the 1940's insisted that if an agent of evil appears then he/she/it must be counter-balanced by a guardian of good. The technique itself is simple enough and even pre-dates the ancient Greek poet Sophocles’ classic tales of recognition and redemption: no matter how great the evil is it must always be defeated by the greater good.

In my view, evil is personified by the presentation of disease in ‘Detour’. The main characters seem to be suffering from different variations of it, yet they all serve the same purpose: acting as transmission carriers until someone, or something, stops them. I would also argue that Roberts’ disease is more of a psychological manifestation (hallucinations, self-justifying flashbacks, etc.) as opposed to the more obvious physical nature of the other ailments. With that in mind, I think we can see each of them as agents of evil. Now, I’ll grant you Haskell and Vera were well on their way to death before they met Roberts, but lets just say he provided a quicker catalyst.

Roberts' detour into his own personal destiny reaches second gear when Haskell stops and offers him a ride. Here we learn, via the passing of pills, that Haskell is suffering from an unknown disease. Although we’re never really sure exactly what ails him, I think we can assume is that Haskell’s death was directly attributable to his ailment, while Vera’s definitely was not. Yes, it is certainly possible Roberts killed Haskell, but I think Ulmer is deliberately clouding the issue of ‘truthfulness’ in Roberts narrative flashback sequences by introducing some doubt in this scene!

Vera was obviously aware of her disease, and the death sentence she was under, as evidenced by her constant references to dying: perfume, poison and rope. She was living under a quick clock and she knew it. All Vera seems to want from what’s left of her life is one last good time — at the world’s expense of course. And for awhile it looks like she just might get her wish granted: thanks to Roberts, the business with the cash, the car and the potential inheritance scam, but fate had other plans for her.

The dramatisation of the ‘guardians of good’ in the movies usually took the form of ‘officers’ of the law and Ulmer has them serve the same administrative function here. The guardians make three separate and distinct appearances in ‘Detour’ with the first two serving to set a pattern that produces a swerve with the third.

The first example involves the motorcycle cop who lets Roberts off (during the sequence where he hides the body and assumes Haskell’s identity) with a verbal warning. The second occurs when he crosses the state line in the stolen car. Here the troopers check the vehicle for any unlawful (as in unhealthy) substances and warn him about staying in the state over a prescribed period of time without following certain rules of order. The twist, however, occurs on their third, and final, appearance. This time the officers/guardians are silent (we only see the police car pull up and the door open), as Roberts delivers a self-serving soliloquy about being an unwilling victim of the fickle foot of fate before finally surrendering to his own destiny.

A speech which also brings to mind the lament of Oedipus as he leaves Thebes:
“...may God guard you better on your road than he did me”.

Say, come to think of it, whatever did happen to that $10 bill anyway?

Thanks for listening!

Eldorado Slim

[Steve-O]

Mr. Slim: That's quite a first "first post!"

I merged your comments with David's piece on Detour. Detour for me is one of the films that got me addicted to all noir... it can't be talked about enough in my opinion.

[David]

Interesting stuff Slim, thanks..!

[Hard-Boiled-Rick]

Slim

Thanks for a refreshing framework for analysis. Foreshadowing fused with moral codes and their agencies is an interesting approach. I’ll watch Detour again tonight and several other noirs this week with your framework and give it a test run.

Your framework is timely. Lately, I’ve been collecting analytical frameworks to view film noirs. A new framework is like a new pair sunglasses. They render new perspective and are fun to wear.

Dave

Congrats on your write up of Detour.

HBR

[Eldorado Slim]

HBR,

Thanks for the kind words! Detour is a favourite of mine and I could watch it over & over and find something new each time!

I'm working on an essay examining how Ulmer uses the 'fate/destiny' motif, both visually (the opening shot is a look back) and in the dialogue (the number of references is astounding). So if you have any ideas, please pass 'em along, after all Eldorado Slim can always use a new pair of shades -- now if I could just wear a derby like Dan Duryea!

[Eldorado Slim]

David,

A enjoyable read thanks! BTW: Where have I seen that car before, did Ulmer use it in any other films (was it his?)

'Push the button, Max'

[David]

Thank you Rick & Slim. I don't know about the car, Slim - I'm still dealing with Vera's
thoughts on 'Murphy' beds...(!)

[Hard-Boiled-Rick]

I'm working on an essay examining how Ulmer uses the 'fate/destiny' motif, both visually (the opening shot is a look back) and in the dialogue (the number of references is astounding). So if you have any ideas, please pass 'em along, after all Eldorado Slim can always use a new pair of shades -- now if I could just wear a derby like Dan Duryea!

Edgar G. Ulmer dwelled in the darkest corners of German Expressionism. In Germany at Decla-Bioscope and UFA, he worked with the poster boys of expressionism: F. W. Murnau, Fritz Lang, and Robert Siodmak. Nightmarish absurdity, horror, alienation, and hopelessness were their stock and trade. Fritz Lang summed up the post World War 1 artistic milieu, when he said, “In Europe, an entire generation of intellectuals embraced despair. Young people engaged in cultural affairs…made a fetish of tragedy.”

Detour is the anti-hero’s journey. Speaking about his career in film, Ulmer said, “The road I have followed veers between Kafka and Camus.”

Detour is a remarkable film given the Poverty Row budget and six-day shooting schedule.


(Lang and Ulmer quotes - source: World Film Directors – Volume One – 1890 – 1945, Editor John Wakeman, Published by The H. W. Wilson Co., New York, 1987)