Damned Articles of Incorporation
By Fearless Young Orphan
I Walk Alone (1948)
Directed by Byron Haskin
I Walk Alone has a lot going for it and might be ranked among the classics of film noir if not for a somewhat anticlimactic finish. It’s not that all the loose ends aren’t tied up. They are. A bit too neatly, in fact. But I think this is because of the production code of the time, under which crime had to be punished and villains were not permitted to escape unscathed with their ill-gotten gains. Let’s deal with our setup first, because the setup is where I Walk Alone simply excels. Burt Lancaster (who is a member of the triumvirate of my three favorite classic actors along with Henry Fonda and Cary Grant) stars as Frankie Madison, a Prohibition bootlegger who went up the river for 14 years when he was caught. His partner in crime, Noll Turner (Kirk Douglas, another great) escaped punishment but had promised Frankie that they would remain 50/50 partners right before the sirens went off.
Frankie was prepared to take the rap for their bootlegging until, during his long prison stretch, he never got a visit from Noll, but got a lot of visits from Noll’s accountant who kept bringing legal documents for Frankie to sign. At last released, Frankie heads straight for Noll’s uptown nightclub to find out what gives, and discovers that slimy Noll has a different opinion about what their last- minute agreement meant.
Well, Frankie did the time and now he wants what is his; the problem is that during the fourteen years he spent in prison, the world changed from bootlegging piracy to corporate red tape. Frankie has no understanding of how a business like Noll’s successful Regent’s Club is owned and operated. We learn this the hard way, as does Frankie, in a scene that borders on a Monty Python spoof of film noir. Frankie has Noll at gunpoint, demanding that he be given his share of the business, and Noll has the accountant explain the ins and outs of corporate entities, boards of directors, by-laws and articles of organization. In a nutshell, it means that Frankie can’t just suddenly own half the business, as he’d hoped. This scene was a strange one. Noir films usually avoid legalese, and the whole setup reminded me a lot of the wretched Star Wars prequels which were inclined toward rambling talks about trade embargos and mitichlorians. Anyway, Frankie’s frustration leads to death threats and beatings, and a typical noir-style frame job to get Frankie out of the way.
The dame, because there must always be a dame, is Kay, the nightclub’s singer. Kay is played by Lizabeth Scott, who certainly must have one of the sexiest voices in film. I adore Ms. Scott, because she is sweet, vulnerable, smart and beautiful, and because she is savvy enough an actress to convey the micro expressions that tell you much of what you need to know about her character.
Kay is Noll’s mistress, or so it is implied, but she is about to be thrown over as Noll plans to marry a bitchy socialite with money and connections. Kay is basically the heart-of-gold girl who wants to trust Noll, but isn’t sure she can love him in the face of his slimy manipulations. Noll convinces Kay to butter up Frankie and get information out of him; Kay does so because she doesn’t realize that Noll’s intentions toward Frankie are less than honorable. Kay is no femme fatale; she is the reason that a man like Frankie might go straight.
Frankie and Kay have dinner together at Noll’s insistence. Despite the fact that Frankie is mistrustful and Kay thinks herself in love with Noll, it is fairly obvious fairly quickly that these two have a truckload of chemistry. You can actually see the moment when Kay falls for him. (Look for it: when Frankie says that all songs sound the same, catch Kay’s fleeting look of surprise and recognition. It’s a great little moment.) They have a frank and telling conversation, a nice dinner, a little dancing, and from then on out it’s pretty certain that Kay will be an ally for Frankie. I liked their relationship a lot: she is tired to men who lie to her, and he is stunned to find himself admired by a decent woman. Frankie might aspire to be as good as Kay believes him to be, if only he could get past all this corporate red tape.
But as the end of the film rolls around, it seems that the film overshoots its reach. Personally I would have been fine with Frankie finding the nerve to tell Noll to go screw himself and his nightclub too, take Kay and disappear down a foggy street arm in arm with her. Alas, this would let Noll off scot free. He needs to pay for his crimes, and there has been a murder for which Frankie was framed. Never mind that Frankie has an alibi that would exonerate him; we must also make sure that Noll gets a comeuppance. This is handled rather poorly.
I find it hard to believe that a guy as smooth as Noll would make as many mistakes as Noll does in the last twenty minutes of this film, brandishing weapons and bad lies as if he’s taken all leave of his senses. The police throw procedure out the window, electing instead to operate under the laws of movies, which say that you can’t hold a guy for questioning if he’s got a beautiful girl waiting for him outside. Possibly the writers realized that Noll’s “confession” of framing Frankie could be obliterated in court by any decent attorney, so they just found a way to kill him off instead. Problem solved!
But aside from the unsteady finale, this has many of the charms of noir atmosphere plus great stars. Here’s the matrix of the film’s “Noir Scoire” by Fearless Young Orphan, and how I Walk Alone stacks up on the scorecard.
Our Hero: is a noble-hearted chump who has to scrape together some dignity before he is likable – 7/10
As Played by: Burt Lancaster – 9/10
Femme Fatale: does not really exist in this film, as Kay is Frankie’s solid rock – 3/10
As Played by: Lizabeth Scott – 9/10
The mastermind: a smooth, cowardly, icewater-veined bastard – 8/10
As Played by: Kirk Douglas – 8/10
The location: a ritzy but corrupt nightclub in New York – 8/10
The crime/frame: a clumsy affair, particularly since our hero had a perfectly good alibi – 4/10
The mood: was bleak and seedy, with plenty of greed and/or desperation on the part of the characters, but was spoiled a bit by legalese and a too-easy ending. – 6/10
The sex factor: quite good. Kay and Frankie are sizzling and sweet together. Listen to how he softens his voice when she’s in his arms. – 8/10
Overall Noir Scoire: 70%