Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss

The femme fatale is one of the most interesting character types in Hollywood cinema, the influence of which can still be seen in characters of modern cinema, from Sharon Stone’s ice-pick wielding Catherine Trammell (Basic Instinct, 1992) to Rosamund Pike’s amazing Amy Dunne (Gone Girl, 2014). One could argue these ‘girl bosses of modern cinema’ would not exist if it weren’t for Barbara Stanwyck’s legendary turn as Phyllis Dietrichson in Billy Wilder’s Double Indemnity (1944). 

Wilder co-wrote the screenplay, which is based on the novel by James M. Cain, with noir royalty novelist Raymond Chandler (The Big Sleep, The Long Goodbye). From the outset, things have not gone well for insurance salesman Walter Neff (Fred MacMurray). The film opens with him (visibly very injured) confessing a murder to his boss. From here, and in typical noir fashion, the film flashes back to where all the trouble began. Neff attempts to make a sale but ends up getting far more than he bargained for when he knocks on the door of the Dietrichson household. Here he meets Phyllis, played to absolute perfection by Barbara Stanwyck, a blonde bombshell who convinces Walter to sign her husband up for life insurance (without her husband realising) to assist her in his murder. All in a day’s work for Walter. Does Walter really agree to do this? Surprisingly, he does and without much convincing. He’s mesmerised by Phyllis from the moment he meets her and she knows it. The plot twists and turns from here, will they or won’t they commit the crime? What will come of it if they do? 

Wilder has dabbled in film noir apart from Double Indemnity, most notably with the sensational Sunset Boulevard (1950), although that seems almost like a tongue in cheek take on the genre compared to this effort. The film contains all the hallmarks of the genre; murder, mystery, a beautiful woman we can’t trust, and lighting you’d find in a dingy late-night bar. The noir emerged in an era of deep paranoia and anxiety post World War II and leading into the Cold War, which makes sense as the genre is steeped in paranoia. At this time, American citizens were unsure of who and what they could trust. This existential dilemma pervades the  films released at the time. One of the things best remembered about this film is the use of the femme fatale trope. While men were at war in the 40s, the number of women in the workforce drastically increased which led to a feeling of emasculation. Those poor men, ha! One could argue that this feeling of emasculation resulted in the creation of the femme fatale archetype. While earlier depictions of the femme fatale often found her floundering in her plans and ultimately perishing at the hands of a man, modern depictions have become far more nuanced. Was this faltering a way for men to overcome this emasculation they were feeling? This is not to take from the fact that Stanwyck’s performance is the blueprint for the many characters of this type afterwards. Phyllis may fail in her plans in the end, but this was merely a pitfall of the genre at the time. 

The femme fatale is a tricky character trope to discuss in a feminist light as while the character almost always falters at the hands of a man, it is refreshing to see female characters driven by their own desires that do not revolve around marriage or settling down, especially for the time of release – 1944. This is not to deny the spotlight melodrama put on women, although these were almost always centred on her desire to have a happy marriage and film. In the decades that followed this film the trope slowly began to change as villainous female characters began to get away with their dastardly plans. After decades of cinema existing at this point, it was about time that women got to have some of the fun men were having playing villains and the femme fatale allowed for this, although in a more nuanced light than the typical villain. The character type was a breath of fresh air compared to the often passive role women played in film up until this point. Almost always present to serve the narrative of the man and rarely with dreams or aspirations of her own, the femme fatale changed this, albeit in a wicked way. 

The femme fatale uses her looks and sexuality as a weapon, something she was often objectified for. Phyllis uses her sexuality in much the same way Sharon Stone does in Basic Instinct to dupe Walter into doing whatever she wants. Now it is the male characters that have become reduced to wanting to settle down, turning previous character types on their head. When we are introduced to Phyllis, the camera positions her in such a way that we feel as if she is towering over Walter. Her dominance is made clear from the outset. While the scene may play up to the many aspects of patriarchal cinema Laura Mulvey wrote about when discussing the male gaze, the depiction of Phylis’ sexuality serves a purpose here. Mulvey wrote about how sexualised depictions of women often brought the narrative to a halt, while here it is moving the narrative in the exact direction that Phyllis wants it to go. Phyllis is leading Walter by the hand to do exactly as she pleases. Phylis has weaponised her sexuality from the moment she meets him and uses it to maintain the dominant position, although it eventually backfires. While there are arguments for the character type not being feminist with how she is almost always foiled and destroyed by the end, one cannot deny the way in which the character turns her sexualisation on its head for her own use is ultimately and arguably a feminist act. In a daring performance, Stanwyck brings such grit and sex appeal to the screen, it’s no wonder this is the performance she has become synonymous with and why Phylis Dietrichson has become the poster girl for the femme fatale.

Billy Wilder’s Double Indemnity is the quintessential film noir. Dripping with class, intrigue and murder with a landmark performance from Barbara Stanwyck that was to inspire a lot of modern performances. In a genre filled with so many greats, this one still has stood the test of time and still manages to stand out and thrill, just as it did in 1944. Stanwyck commands the screen (and Walter) with such ease, it’s easy to see why she became one of the icons of the silver screen.