Joan Crawford stars as Ethel Whitehead / Lorna Hansen Forbes, but gets plenty of top-drawer support from David Brian (always underrated, in my opinion) as George Castleman and Steve Cochran, who turns in yet another stellar performance as the conniving Nick Prenta.

The DVD included an interview with, of all people, director Vincent Sherman. The date on the DVD is 2005, so the interview was conducted not too long before his death, which occurred the following year right before his 100th birthday. A veteran of Hollywood’s golden age, Sherman directed other films noir, such as Backfire and The Garment Jungle, as well as mainstream efforts like The Young Philadelphians, one of Paul Newman’s early efforts.

The Damned Don’t Cry, however, was his best. And it is arguably Joan Crawford’s finest hour, too, her Oscar-winning turn in Mildred Pierce notwithstanding. Her scenes with Brian and Cochran crackle with intensity. She worked well with them and they were both up to it. The story of a woman rising up from deep blue-collar roots to the top of society mirrors Crawford’s own life, enabling her to crawl into the skin of her character with ease. But Lorna Hansen Forbes’ meteoric rise is only a prelude to her introduction to the world of organized crime.

Brian runs the show and he sees in Crawford the kind of grit and tenacity that he had within himself during his own trip to the top. He finds her irresistible and eventually figures out how to integrate her into his empire. But of course, Cochran has other plans.

The film’s first half is set in Texas oilfields and New York back streets, but appears to have been shot primarily on the Warner Bros back lot. The second half, however, shifts to a Palm Springs-ish locale, where Cochran is plotting his next move. The look is so authentic, I almost felt as though I were watching a different film altogether. I don’t remember any film of that era with a Palm Springs setting, but this one was very effective.

If you haven’t seen The Damned Don’t Cry, or haven’t seen it in awhile, go find it. You won’t be sorry.

Of course, it’s well-known that the filmmakers weren’t really aware that they were creating a whole new approach to cinema.  They were just doing their best with the low budgets they had to work with.

 These movies were almost always made by the “B” picture crews of the old Hollywood studios.  That meant less money, less time to shoot, lesser-known actors, and so on.  You want to shoot a scene with dark dialogue in it?  Just turn down the lights, cast a few shadows, and point the camera in such a way as to create a dark mood to match the dialogue.  These directors, among whom were greats such as Jacques Tourneur and Anthony Mann, would go on to “bigger and better” movies, but they will always be remembered for their role in forging the path through the uncharted film noir wilderness.

Growing up in a very small town meant one movie theater, where they had double features (an “A” picture coupled with a “B” picture) all the time, and would change the program three times a week. This meant a tremendous number of movies were passing through that little burg. We got a good smattering of everything Hollywood was cranking out in those days, but the black-and-white crime movies always got my attention.  Just seeing Richard Conte’s name on a poster was enough for me to circle the date and see the movie.

Some of my all-time favorites include Double Indemnity, Out Of The Past, Scarlet Street, The Damned Don’t Cry, The Narrow Margin, Raw Deal, Detour, The Asphalt Jungle, and the Jules Dassin classic, Night And The City.  I might add that all of these came out either before I was born or before I was old enough to go to the movies by myself, so I really became acquainted with these through TV.

Some of the great films noir I actually saw in my hometown theater include New York Confidential, Kiss Me Deadly, The Killing, Violent Saturday, and that sleeper of sleepers, Plunder Road.

Recent years have seen an upswing in the genre.  Movies like Body Heat, The Grifters, and After Dark My Sweet (all of which were in color, by the way) have shown there’s a substantial demand for well-done treatments of these great stories.

Also, the rise of the DVD has seen the floodgates open up in terms of releasing many of the really obscure examples of film noir.  Gems like The Naked Kiss, Bad Blonde, Shoot To Kill, Railroaded, and The Scar are now available after decades of oblivion.

Anybody got any favorites they’d like to share?