D.O.A. (1950)

D.O.A. (1950)

Directed by Rudolph Maté

Screenplay by Russell Rouse and Clarence Greene

Runtime: 1 hr, 23 min

Existence oftentimes seems predicated on simple twists of fate; mere coincidence can end up cutting us down in the end.  You may just be doing your own thing, minding your own business, but before you know you are implicated in some grand scheme of which you want absolutely no part.  It’s a most sinister form of “wrong place, wrong time” syndrome, the kind in which you aren’t even aware you are in until it’s too late.  This is the sort of scenario which forms the basis for Rudolph Maté’s 1950 film noir, D.O.A.

Frank Bigelow (Edmond O’Brien) walks into a police station to report a murder: his own.  In film noir tradition, he tells his story in flashback.  While on a spur-of-the-moment vacation in San Francisco, Bigelow, an account, discovers that he’s been poisoned and is beyond medical help.  Upon hearing that a man named Eugene Phillips, who wanted to get in contact with Bigelow, has committed suicide, Bigelow sets out to find out who murdered him and why.  What follows is a twisted tale of crime, adultery, and downright craziness.

Bigelow’s search hinges on a case involving stolen iridium, and his lines of inquiry bring him into contact with numerous colorful characters: Phillips’ grieving widow (Lynn Baggett) and Halliday, the comptroller of Phillips’ business (William Ching); Marla Rakubian (Laurette Luez), the requisite femme fatale, and the insane, sadistic enforcer Chester (Neville Brand).  Most of all, however, Bigelow is driven by his love for his secretary Paula (Pamela Britton), who aids him and pleads with him throughout the case.

Maté and the screenwriters use the cast of characters to craft an exciting world, largely consisting of San Francisco and Los Angeles.  Because the roles are so engaging—Brand in particular is a pure scene-stealer—the criminal dealings and gunplay have a serious heft to them.  Whether they instill sympathy, loathing, or terror, every actor on the screen elicits significant emotional response.  This prevents D.O.A. from getting bogged down in its plot, which ultimately proves inconsequential and a little bit contrived.

O’Brien’s Bigelow, interestingly, might be the least engaging character in the film.  He almost places a dramatic version of the straight-man, which makes sense; he’s the everyday guy who, because he happened to sign a bill of sale some time ago, finds himself a dead man.  Though he responds with anguish at first, as the reality of the situation sinks in, Bigelow becomes more and more stoic, accepting his fate with strength while not actively trying to change.  He’s also (understandably) fatalistic, which may explain some of his risky behavior in his detective work.

O’Brien’s co-star, Britton, is equally as good playing Paula.  At first glance, Paula is the first and most obvious suspect, by virtue of being the only character with any clear connection to Bigelow.  But Britton’s performance—confused, distraught and reassuring—makes it apparent that she had nothing to with it.  This also allows for D.O.A. to be a true mystery.  The only person with any apparent motivation to poison Bigelow is not the killer, so who wants Bigelow dead and gone is anyone’s guess.

Adding to the mystery atmosphere is the film’s style and cinematography.  Rudolph Maté was an acclaimed cinematographer in Europe, and he doesn’t let that style go to waste in his directorial debut.  Of particular note is the opening sequence: as the opening credits roll, Bigelow is making his way through the police station toward the homicide department.  The camera follows him down seemingly endless hallways, which ratchets up the tension immediately.  This type of sequence is repeated twice in the film, and each time makes it clear that time is of the essence.

D.O.A. is a bit restrained by its low budget and production values, though.  The film that was shown on the local PBS affiliate was grainy, and the beginning of scenes seemed amateurish, in that the actors reacting to the scene beginning was a common sight.  D.O.A. was not a big budget production, so some problems with the appearance of the film are to be expected.  That said, the low end production values do detract from the experience, and that I was cognizant of them demonstrates that they can distract from the film’s proceedings.

Despite not being as polished as it could have stood to be, D.O.A. is still an incredibly fun film noir.  From the near-literal dead man walking angle to the stolen iridium to the everyman dragged into hell, Maté’s film holds its own as a thriller.  If you are like me and are not particular genre savvy, then I expect that D.O.A. will keep you guessing until the very end, wondering why the hell anyone would want—nay, need—a lowly CPA out of the way, and how the hell Bigelow manages to find his killer in time.