CLASH BY NIGHT: Blu-ray (RKO, 1952) Warner Archive

Things come suitable to their time, perhaps nowhere more clearly revealed than in director, Fritz Lang’s Clash by Night (1952), a strangely passionless and potholed adaptation of Clifford Odets’ 1941 stagecraft. What once had the sting of blowsy sex comes across as quaintly permissible ‘dirty talk’ in Lang’s reimagining. It isn’t entirely Lang’s fault, or even that of screenwriter, Alfred Hayes, hampered in his ability to do more/say more by Hollywood’s self-governing code of censorship. In lieu of ‘the good stuff’ we have a lot of leering, some ugly innuendoes and the occasional flash of darkly purposed racism. Thanks to a killer cast –  Barbara Stanwyck, Paul Douglas, Robert Ryan and, then rising star, Marilyn Monroe - Clash by Night retains some bite and grit, supremely realized in Nicholas Musuraca’s startlingly harsh B&W cinematography and Lang’s silken, if edgy direction.  Odets’ play possessed the luxury of artistic freedom to be as ballsy and brash in its depiction of illicit sex. The film falls back on the time-honored cliché of a conventional ‘lover’s triangle’ given only occasional ‘oomph’ by Lang’s urbane-Euro-centric handling of the saucier details.

Plot wise, Mae Doyle (Barbara Stanwyck) has come home to a seedy little fishing village after a decade’s long run of playing the fast and loose gal in the big city with plenty of regrets now tucked into her back pocket. The town’s primary income generator, and the hub of all its gossip, is the cannery. Disgusted with men, Mae is introduced to fishing boat captain, Jerry D’Amato (Paul Douglas) – a naïve milquetoast, desperate to start a family. Jerry’s solvent – comfortably so – hence, his appeal for Mae who doesn’t have much beyond two pennies to rub together.  The couple briefly court, then wed. Mae pops out a child and embraces domesticity – again, briefly – only to discover her aspirations for steadfast security have locked her into a loveless drudgery she now longs to escape. Counterbalancing this antiseptic union is the awkward and fiery romance between sexpot, Peggy (Marilyn Monroe) – who idolizes Mae – and hunky but brutish, Joe Doyle (Keith Andes). Their interplay, fueled by youthful jealousies, really gets Mae’s home fires burning, enough to fall for her husband’s best pal, Earl Pfeiffer (Robert Ryan).

Earl’s disenchantment with his ex, off pursuing her career in burlesque (and whom we never meet) causes Mae to lose herself more than once in Earl’s arms, despite the fact he is a cruel and ugly reminder of precisely the sort she gave up to move back home in the first place. Earl does not really ‘want’ Mae. He just wants to use her. Suspecting Mae is up to no good, Jerry’s uncle, Vince (J. Carrol Naish) – who never liked Mae to begin with, watches as her clandestine meetings with Earl eventually become a fairly public shame only Jerry seems oblivious to recognize. Believing he can quash the rumors Jerry eventually confronts Mae and Earl. Although Earl refrains from telling Jerry the truth, Mae confesses she wants a divorce to be with Earl. Jerry loses control and begins to strangle his one-time best pal. But Mae thwarts the inevitable. Hurrying home to collect her child, Mae discovers the cradle bare. Realizing she cannot leave Jerry, Mae breaks off her affair with Earl. In the penultimate moments of our story, an embittered, but grateful Jerry takes Mae back.  

Clash by Night would have been better served if Alfred Hayes’ screenplay had stuck to Clifford Odets’ original ‘unhappy’ ending as it seems unlikely Jerry – even as simple as he is – would have accepted Mae’s contrition to begin their marriage anew. Until that feigned moment of forced forgiveness, Clash by Night packs a considerable wallop. Fritz Lang exploits long takes and montage to effectively denote the passage of time. And he establishes the squalor and grime of this nearly forgotten outpost where human interests are decidedly limited to fish and sexually-charged flagrante delicto. There is a documentarian feel to Lang’s establishing shots of the town. It sets the tone for all that follows. Barbara Stanwyck’s Mae is an exquisitely troubled/sexually frustrated gal. It’s a sustained performance, one in which Stanwyck infers so much while doing relatively so little. Contrasting her solemnity, Paul Douglas’ all too human and blind-sided Jerry wears a little thin. But Robert Ryan’s self-loathing and contempt for all women is magnificently realized. Ryan oozes a disreputable bitterness that positively reviles while, even more bizarrely, makes for his compelling attraction towards Mae.  In their supporting bits, Marilyn Monroe and Keith Andes never get much of an opportunity to go beyond a sort of taut sexual ruthlessness. But it is enough of a counterbalance for the flawed central sexual conflict between Mae, Jerry and Earl.  

It is something of a minor tragedy that Andes, despite his chiseled good looks, never made much of a splash in Hollywood. His movie debut in 1944’s Winged Victory went nowhere, though, by decades’ end he had success on Broadway in 1947’s The Chocolate Soldier. That same year, Andes also appeared in the film, The Farmer's Daughter, paving the way for his first leading role in Project X (1949), a low-budget, indie flick. By 1950, he was back on Broadway in Kiss Me Kate. This brought him to the attention of Lang and Clash by Night. Briefly, it looked as though Andes might have a career at RKO. But by then, RKO was sinking fast into the red and unable to sustain his ambitions. Television beckoned, as did Universal for a few disposable outings. And although Andes continued to work steadily – mostly on TV and on Broadway – his roster of big and small screen credits reveal just how underutilized he was for the duration of his career. He retired in the mid-1980s, preferring to spend his emeritus years sailing his yacht.

Clash by Night arrives on Blu-ray via the Warner Archive (WAC) in a pristine 1080p transfer that will find many admirers. Nicholas Musuraca’s cinematography looks superb, with deep black levels during the night shoots, and an incredible amount of fine detail revealed throughout. The grayscale is exceptionally nuanced and fine grain looks indigenous to its source. Age-related artifacts have been eradicated.  The image is crisp and refined. Wow! What a stunner!  The DTS 2.0 mono revels in the crispness of dialogue and occasional bursts of Roy Webb’s underscore. Ported over from the defunct DVD release: filmmaker/historian, Peter Bogdanovich’s audio commentary, interpolated with interview clips of director, Fritz Lang. The only other extra is a badly worn theatrical trailer.  Bottom line: Clash by Night works…just not as well as its stagecraft. Still, there is much to admire here with Stanwyck at the top of her game and Marilyn Monroe looking positively ravishing at the cusp of her own super-stardom. The Blu-ray is resplendent.

FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)

3.5

VIDEO/AUDIO

5+

EXTRAS

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