Fallen Angel

[ken123]

Is a Noir directed by Otto Preminger starring Dana Andrews, Linda Darnell, and Alice Faye, with Ann Revere, Bruce Cabot, Charles, and Percy Kilbribe in support. It is an excellent noir, with Andrews playing a heel with eyes on the lovely Linda.

[MissGoddess]

I wish lovely Linda had stuck around longer, as her character interested me more than Alice Faye's.

What I have always been curious to know is just which character is the title alluding to? Linda Darnell's, Alice Faye's---or Dana Andrews"?

Charles Bickford and Ann Revere play two very complicated roles as well.

[moira finnie]

We were born to tread the Earth as angels
To seek out Heaven this side of the sky
But they who rest alone just stumble in the dark
And fall from grace.

Then love alone can make the fallen angel rise
For only two together
Can enter paradise. ~an unattributed poem quoted by Alice Faye in Fallen Angel (1945)

I finally caught up with this noir and was as intrigued as Miss Goddess to try to figure out which character this poem is referring to in this movie: Dana Andrews, Linda Darnell, Alice Faye or possibly even Charles Bickford?

We first encounter Dana Andrews' character, Eric Stanton, in Fallen Angel (1945) when he's thrown off a bus to San Francisco because he can't come up with the $2.20 fare. Unlike Milton's Lucifer, who thought it "better to rule in Hell, than serve in heaven", Andrews seems a bit more ambivalent about the seedy surroundings of the California beach town he finds himself in after his "fall." Also, though this film was made in 1945, there's no direct reference made to the war, or why this relatively young man without dependents wasn't in uniform. If there is a war being fought, for the purposes of this movie, it doesn't seem to be a geopolitical one, but is definitely a conflict between darkness (a sinfully alluring Linda Darnell) and light (Alice Faye, with her blonde, slightly bovine appeal).

The cheap restaurant that Andrews wanders into does seem to be a possible anteroom to hell. Here we meet a bunch of men, Percy Kilbride as the fretful, soft-spirited loser who owns the joint, Charles Bickford a watchful, slightly menacing presence, and Bruce Cabot, whose over-ripe manner and hale fellow well met demeanor as the juke box salesman hints at something ugly underneath it all. All of them seem to be waiting for something, anything to happen, even as they eye Andrews warily. That "something" as it turns out, is a slatternly Linda Darnell, introduced as she slumps against the diner's door after going off on a toot with a likely prospect that apparently has gone very much awry. Miss Darnell's undeniable carnal beauty is matched by the relish (pun intended) with which she plays this waitress character who, in between bites of a greasy hamburger tells the slavishly attentive Kilbride that he "makes her sick." Linda Darnell, who previously had specialized in personifying sacred love on screen in such films as The Mark of Zorro and Blood and Sand, has a grand time letting her profane side out to play in this movie.


When I first saw this noir directed by Otto Preminger, it all seemed absurd. People don't fall in love or even lust as easily as Dana Andrews and company seem to here. Or do they? It was the last year of WWII, there were lots of young men and women whose lives were in upheaval and who'd become involved for a day, a week and sometimes a lifetime back then. Despite our sometimes superficial 21st century view of that period as rather static socially and even formal, the War and the Depression which immediately preceded probably did trigger many an improvised arrangement, (as might be indicated by the spike in divorce rates after the war too). Seems as though the history of the last hundred years was pretty absurd and unpredictable too, so maybe this little tale of love vs. lust=a crime of passion isn't so off the wall, after all.

While this movie's plot and characters do sometimes seem absurd, as do many noirs, perhaps this is to emphasize the improbability and chance nature of much of modern life. Interestingly, we learn of drifter Dana Andrews' dubious gifts via his slick ability to latch onto a fellow pair of con artists (John Carradine and Olin Howland), who accept Andrews on face value. It's revealing that unlike the rather suspicious, hostile people he encounters in the town—these two grifters embrace him more fully than do any of the respectable people in the film. Opting to avoid any entanglements other than a growing obsession with Darnell, Andrews decides to strikes out on his own. The possibility of an honest relationship in some kind of lasting familial alliance with these guys inevitably leads Andrews into a worse spiral. It's not until a death occurs does Andrews realize that for all his cleverness, he has little or no control over his life. Andrews, btw, creates one of his better, more ambivalent characters here. He has several beautifully done, disquieting moments without dialogue, in particular in one scene with Faye when he struggles to prevent himself from revealing the shock and distress he feels on his face.


Besides, it's a fun ride for awhile. Preminger does all he can to edge over the increasingly blurry Production Code line in this movie, especially when building Darnell's character. Throughout her scenes, her character is established as one very brassy bad apple, as she shiftily secretes a dollar from the cash register in her bosom, or gives a half leer, half come hither smile to Bickford, or sizes up Andrews, and doesn't protest too vociferously when Dana grabs her rump during a kiss, (albeit said rump is masked nicely by a coat.)

The film also does a nice job with the slightly claustrophobic atmosphere of the town. The art direction--as with many Fox films of this period, is a joy, from the tawdry minginess of Darnell's apartment to the stale Victorian air of Faye's home with her straitlaced sister (Anne Revere, who's good but underutilized, darn it!). Preminger and cinematographer Joseph LaShelle create a wonderful looking film from the characteristically distinctive Preminger titles (seen as road signs at night), to seamless, graceful crane shots that do not call overt attention to the camera work.

One major quibble for me was the character of Alice Faye, who's defined as a bookish old maid sort with apparently untapped wells of passion and she's constantly bathed in a nimbus of heavenly light (very similar to that visual shorthand used to glorify Betty Grable, imho). Hmmm, this was a stretch for Faye, since in most of her film work she's a very worldly sort. Alice's strength on screen was her "heart of gold" beneath the generously proportioned soiled dove exterior.Her really strong suit was that voice, which had a richness and warmth and occasional bluesy subtlety that made up for any acting limitations. Here she's not allowed to sing, (though reportedly a sequence with her singing a song during a car ride was cut), and in an attempt to present her as rather prim, she seems subdued and, except for one sequence in a cheap hotel room when Faye and Andrews are on the run, a bit flat. Maybe Alice saw the handwriting on the studio wall and wisely left to pursue the domestic rather than the performing arts once this flick was a wrap. Besides, like so many of her ilk, Faye had been working since childhood, and probably needed a break. Makes me understand why the actress packed it in on her career after this one, (except for some latter day appearances in less than wonderful movies about 17 years later).


By the end of the movie, wound up a bit too neatly for my taste, I was still not sure who the exact title of this movie fits, though I suspect that it might have more accurately been called by the plural "Fallen Angels."

[Mr. Arkadin]

Very nice Moira. I have not seen Fallen Angel although my brother gave me the DVD awhile back. It's slowly working it's way to the top of the stack. Your review tempted me to jump it ahead of some of the others.

[melwalton]

Hi Moira,
Enjoyed your review of 'Fallen Angel' and would like to comment. I noticed, again, how well you write and, also, how you get so much more from a movie than I do. I saw this one about 50 or 60 years ago and recall that Bickford beat up Cabot, the former playing a cop and the latter a murder suspect, and that's all I remember.
You mentioned Andrew's character avoiding the war, I think that's what Andrews did, in reality.
Got a chuckle from your description of Faye as 'bovine', I don't disagree although we're looking at her from different angles, but in her prime in the 30s a lot of teenage guys had a case on her. I liked her singing more than her looks but she was pretty. I didn't think her a great singer, not as good as Simms or Langford but good enough to get me into the theater. Like so mant others, she was best with a certain type of song. I'll never forget her rendition of 'This Years Kisses' from 'On the Avenue'.
A final thought, Linda Darnell. That one was truly beautiful. Saw her in a 3 D film with, I think, Mitchum and / or Palance; WOW, she wAS A KNOCKOUT. Keep reviewing movies, Moira; you're GOOD. cheers ....mel

[moira finnie]

You're right Mel. A gloved Charles Bickford does rough up Bruce Cabot at one point, which I didn't go into, but it is a pretty effective scene, especially in the part of it that is heard rather than seen by the audience. Bickford is--as he almost always is--a terrific actor.

Got a chuckle from your description of Faye as 'bovine', I don't disagree although we're looking at her from different angles, but in her prime in the 30s a lot of teenage guys had a case on her.

I didn't necessarily mean to cast aspersions on Alice Faye's appearance, because just a few years earlier at Fox, she would've been given the "red hot mama" treatment by the studio rather than Linda Darnell. It would actually have been more interesting in some ways to see Faye playing the Darnell part, now that I think of it. I like Faye's singing very much, especially in such seldom seen films as Rose of Washington Square (1939) in which she does a very effectively sultry version of "My Man."

I was really trying to describe how Otto Preminger used Alice Faye's ripe features to suggest a woman who has waited a bit too long for the right guy to come along. Her character also seems to have a somewhat docile nature, willing to be dominated by her steely sister, Anne Revere, and led by the smooth-talking Dana Andrews as well. Faye's character seems at moments to find the chaos offered by an involvement with Andrews to be appealing, and there are hints that she's stifled by the town's somnolent atmosphere, but either Faye or the script couldn't really express this quality fully. Her seeming passivity and quiet loyalty to Andrews has a certain power too--though I still wonder how long their union will last after The End comes up on the screen.

[ken123]

Alice & Dana share a bed OMG !