In
a Lonely Place
Dir: Nicholas Ray
1950
****
Although In A Lonely Place is a lesser known film by the famous
actor, Humphrey
Bogart’s performance is considered by many critics
to be among his finest and the film's reputation has grown over time along with
Nicholas Ray's. Bogart stars as Dixon Steele, a troubled screenwriter suspected
of murder, and Grahame co-stars as Laurel Gray, a neighbor who falls under his
spell. Beyond its surface plot of confused identity and tormented love, the
story is a mordant comment on Hollywood mores and the pitfalls of celebrity and near-celebrity,
similar to two other American films released that same year, Billy
Wilder's Sunset Boulevard and Joseph L. Mankiewicz’ All About Eve. When Edmund H. North adapted
the story, he stuck close to the original source and John Derek was considered for the role of Dix because in the
novel he was much younger. However, North's treatment was not used. Andrew Solt
developed the screenplay with regular input from producer Robert Lord and
director Nicholas Ray and the end
result is far different from the source novel. Solt claimed that Bogart loved
the script so much that he wanted to make it without revisions, Solt maintains
that the final cut is very close to his script, but further research shows that
Ray made regular rewrites, some added on the day of shooting. In fact, only
four pages of the 140-page script had no revisions. The film was produced by
Bogart's Santana Productions company,
whose first film was Knock on Any Door, was directed by Ray and starred Bogart and Derek in the
leading roles. Dixon "Dix" Steele (Humphrey Bogart) is a down-on-his-luck Hollywood screenwriter who has not had a hit, "since before the
war." While driving to meet his agent, Mel Lippman (Art Smith), at a nightclub,
Dix's explosive temper is revealed by a confrontation at a stoplight with
another motorist that almost becomes violent. At the nightclub, Mel cajoles him
to adapt a book for a movie. The hat-check girl, Mildred Atkinson (Martha
Stewart), is engrossed in reading it and asks if
she can finish, since she only has a few pages left. Dix has a second violent
outburst when a young director bad-mouths Dix's friend Charlie (Robert
Warwick), a washed-up actor. Dix claims to be too
tired to read the novel, so he asks Mildred to go home with him, ostensibly to
explain the plot. As they enter the courtyard of his apartment, they pass a new
tenant, Laurel Gray (Gloria Grahame). As
soon as Mildred is convinced that Dix is not trying to seduce her, she
describes the story, in the process confirming what he had suspected - the book
is trash. He gives her cab fare to get home. The next morning, he is awakened
by an old army buddy now a police detective, Brub Nicolai (Frank Lovejoy), who takes him downtown to be questioned by Captain
Lochner (Carl Benton Reid). The coat check
girl Mildred was murdered during the night and Dix is a suspect. Laurel is
brought to the police station, she confirms seeing the girl leave Dix's
apartment alone and unharmed but Lochner is still deeply suspicious. Although
Dix shows no overt sympathy for the dead victim, on the way home from the
police station, he anonymously sends her two dozen white roses. When he gets
home, Dix checks up on Laurel. He finds she is an aspiring actress with only a
few low-budget films to her credit. They begin to fall in love; this spurs Dix
into going back to work with vigour, Laurel assisting him much to his agent's
delight. Dix behaves strangely. He says things that make his agent Mel and Brub's
wife Sylvia (Jeff Donnell) wonder if he did
kill the girl. Lochner sows seeds of doubt in Laurel's mind, pointing out Dix's
long record of violent behavior. Dix becomes furiously irrational when he
learns of it. He drives at high speed, with Laurel a terrified passenger, until
they sideswipe another car. Nobody is hurt in the collision, but when the other
driver accosts him, Dix beats him unconscious and is about to strike him with a
large rock when Laurel stops him. Laurel gets to the point where she cannot
sleep without taking pills. Her distrust and fear of Dix are becoming too much
for her. When he asks her to marry him, she accepts but only because she is too
scared of what he might do if she refused. She makes a plane reservation and
tells Mel she is leaving because she cannot take it anymore. Dix finds out and
almost strangles her during a violent confrontation before he regains control.
Just then, the phone rings. It is Brub with good news: Mildred's boyfriend has
confessed to her murder. Tragically, it is too late to salvage Dix and Laurel's
relationship. Louise Brooks wrote
in her essay "Humphrey and Bogey" that she felt it was the role of
Dixon Steele in this movie that came closest to the real Bogart she knew.
"Before inertia set in, he played one fascinatingly complex character,
craftily directed by Nicholas Ray, in a film whose title perfectly defined
Humphrey's own isolation among people. In a Lonely Place gave
him a role that he could play with complexity because the character's pride in
his art, his selfishness, his drunkenness, his lack of energy stabbed with
lightning strokes of violence, were shared equally by the real Bogart.”
Apparently, on one voyage in their yacht Santana, Bogart showed an inexplicable
burst of rage that frightened his wife Lauren Bacall. The original ending had Dix strangling Laurel to death
in the heat of their argument. Sgt. Nicolai comes to tell Dix that he has been
cleared of Mildred's murder but arrests him for killing Laurel. Dix tells Brub
that he is finally finished with his screenplay; the final shot was to be of a
page in the typewriter which has the significant lines Dix said to Laurel in
the car (which he admitted to not knowing where to put) "I was born when
she kissed me, I died when she left me, I lived a few weeks while she loved
me". This scene was filmed halfway through the shooting schedule, but Ray
hated the ending he had helped write. Ray later said, "I just couldn't
believe the ending that Bundy (screenwriter Andrew Solt) and I had written. I
shot it because it was my obligation to do it. Then I kicked everybody off
stage except Bogart, Art Smith and Gloria. And we improvised the ending as it
is now. In the original ending we had ribbons so it was all tied up into a very
neat package, with Lovejoy coming in and arresting him as he was writing the
last lines, having killed Gloria. Huh! And I thought, shit, I can't do it, I
just can't do it! Romances don't have to end that way. Marriages don't have to
end that way, they don't have to end in violence. Let the audience make up its
own mind what's going to happen to Bogie when he goes outside the
apartment." While I whole-heartedly agree with the great Nicholas Ray, I’m
sure the original ending would have worked and I think it would have been far more
striking, if a little easy. I’m glad he is only accused of murder, rather than
be a murderer and rapist though, as is his character in the original novel. I
loved the first half of the story and Bogart’s performance but I liked the
second half much less if I’m being honest. Lauren Bacall and Ginger
Rogers were considered for the role of Laurel
Gray. Bacall was a natural choice given her off-screen marriage to Bogart and
their box-office appeal, but Warner Bros. refused to loan her out, a move often
thought to be in reaction to Bogart having set up his own independent
production company, the type of which Warner Bros. were afraid would jeopardize
the future of the major studios. Rogers was the producers' first choice but Ray
believed that his wife Gloria Grahame was right for the part. Even though their
marriage was troubled, he insisted that she be cast. Her performance today is
unanimously considered to be among her finest. Grahame and Ray's marriage was
starting to come apart during filming. Grahame was forced to sign a contract
stipulating that "my husband shall be entitled to direct, control, advise,
instruct and even command my actions during the hours from 9 AM to 6 PM, every
day except Sunday ... I acknowledge that in every conceivable situation his
will and judgment shall be considered superior to mine and shall prevail."
Grahame was also forbidden to "nag, cajole, tease or in any other feminine
fashion seek to distract or influence him." The two did separate during
filming. Afraid that one of them would be replaced, Ray took to sleeping in a
dressing room, lying and saying that he needed to work on the script. Grahame
played along with the charade and nobody knew that they had separated. Though
there was a brief reconciliation, the couple divorced in 1952, when Ray found
Grahame in bed with his seventeen-year-old son. However, onscreen everything is
perfect and I can’t help but agree with Andrew Sarris who said "I was
born when I met you. I lived while I loved you. I died when you left
me"... Only an actor with Bogart's terminal irreverence could break
through the banality of these lines to the other side of wild romanticism.
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