Gilda (1946)

Gilda
Directed by Charles Vidor
Written by E.A. Ellington, Jo Eisenger and Marion Parsonnet
1946/USA
Columbia Pictures Corporation
Repeat viewing/Netflix rental
#201 of 1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die

[box] Johnny Farrell: Statistics show that there are more women in the world than anything else. Except insects.[/box]

Gilda is an example of how style, attitude, sharp dialogue, and a beautiful woman can triumph over plot in film noir.

Johnny Farrell (Glenn Ford) is somehow reduced to cheating at dice with American sailors on the streets of Buenos Aires when an elegant gentleman with a hidden stiletto blade rescues him from a mugging.  Their conversation afterwards reveals that both are brothers under the skin who “make their own luck.”  They meet again when Johnny appears at a fancy illegal gambling den and starts to win big at blackjack by cutting cards.

It turns out his rescuer, Ballin Mundson, owns the place.  Two security men haul Johnny in for cheating but Johnny convinces Mundson that he needs him on his side.  Before long Johnny is managing the casino.  When Mundson takes a vacation he gives Johnny the combination to his safe.

Mundson returns with an American bride, the beautiful Gilda (Rita Hayworth), who makes her own luck as well.  Johnny knows Gilda well enough to hate her intensely and she seconds the emotion.  She constantly tries to provoke Johnny with apparent infidelity to his boss and he just as ruthlessly attempts to control her.  This is a dangerous game as Mundson is deadly and madly jealous.  With Joseph Calleia as an Argentine police detective and Stephen Geray as a philosophical men’s room attendant.

The hard-boiled remarks never stop in this classic of the film noir genre and cinematographer Rudolph Maté makes Hayworth look desirable enough to drive any man to his doom.  This makes for a really entertaining experience good enough for many repeat viewings.  The story is strangely forgettable, however.  We never learn what Gilda did to Johnny to warrant his overblown enmity and the ending wraps up things entirely too neatly with characters that reverse course on a dime.

Trailer - Rudolph Maté, cinematographer

“Put the Blame on Mame”