The Blue Gardenia (1953)

The Blue Gardenia (USA, 1953) 90 min B&W DIR: Fritz Lang. PROD: Alex Gottlieb. SCR: Charles Hoffman, based on the novella by Vera Caspary. MUSIC: Raoul Kraushaar. DOP: Nicholas Musuraca. CAST: Anne Baxter, Richard Conte, Ann Sothern, Raymond Burr, Jeff Donnell, Richard Erdman, George Reeves, Nat King Cole. (Warner Brothers)


The films of Fritz Lang are an important body of work in the canon of film noir, although the seminal director was not above producing standard “B” thrillers such as The Blue Gardenia to keep his career afloat. The Blue Gardenia falls between more significant noir efforts Clash by Night (1952) and The Big Heat (1953) in Lang’s oeuvre, and was his first effort after narrowly escaping the McCarthy-era HUAC anti-communist blacklist. Shot in under four weeks, a whirlwind schedule by Lang’s standards, The Blue Gardenia is a conventional murder mystery, given a more stylized treatment by the veteran director. The film is populated by a cast of familiar character types, and the story unfolds in common locales, where events move suddenly into noir territory after an unsolved murder takes place.

Female lead Anne Baxter plays Norah Larkin, who works alongside roommates Crystal (Ann Sothern) and Sally (Jeff Donnell) as an operator at a busy L.A. telephone company. Playboy artist Harry Prebble (a suave Raymond Burr) is a regular around the phone company offices, sketching the female operators and looking for hot dates. Larkin is emotionally shattered one evening when her boyfriend, serving in Korea, severs their relationship with a “Dear John” letter. When Prebble telephones for her roommate Crystal, Larkin answers the phone, and in a fateful mix-up, impulsively agrees to meet him for a date. They convene at an exotic Polynesian lounge, The Blue Gardenia, and settle in for a carefree evening of drinks, dinner, and more drinks, highlighted by a live Nat King Cole performance of the film’s theme song. As the night deepens, and a tell-tale rain begins to fall, Prebble leads an inebriated Larkin back to his luxurious studio apartment, where events take a fatal turn. As Prebble becomes a bit too aggressive with his affections, Larkin grasps a fire poker, and takes a swing at Prebble, smashing a large mirror in the process. She passes out in an alcohol-induced haze (rendered by Lang with the aid of some amusing explosive spiraling effects), and wakes up the following morning at home in bed with a brutal hang-over and little memory of the night before. Meanwhile, Prebble’s dead body is found in his apartment, and the police begin a search for the mysterious killer, who is dubbed “The Blue Gardenia” by the press, following clues that trace Prebble and his date to the club.

Intrepid reporter Casey Mayo (Richard Conte) follows “The Blue Gardenia” case, and goes to great lengths to meet the suspected killer, in hopes of obtaining an exclusive interview. Larkin gradually comes to the realization that all clues point to her, as her clouded memory slowly unveils the details of her date with Prebble. She can’t remember actually killing Prebble, and wanders through dark, fog-choked streets avoiding the law, consumed by guilt and fear, trying to decide what to do. She finally turns to Mayo in an attempt to prove her innocence, even though her memory betrays her. As Mayo and “The Blue Gardenia” meet up, the police are on their tail, and Mayo must follow all leads to clear Larkin and track down the real killer. After a few unexpected plot twists, the final pieces fall into place, the true murderer’s identity is revealed, and Larkin walks free, with an enamored Mayo close behind.

As a commonplace ’50’s “B” film, The Blue Gardenia contains some memorable scenes and performances (Baxter, Conte, and Burr), but is a minor work coming from a renowned talent such as Lang (it’s hard to believe that the same man helmed the staggering Metropolis almost 30 years previous). The late-night, drunken “murder” scene in Prebble’s apartment is given an expressionistic touch, utilizing a creative montage that incorporates reflections in a shattered mirror (an image that recurs later in the film). Also of note is the tense night-time rendezvous of Larkin and Mayo in the deserted, pitch-black offices of Mayo’s newspaper. This scene is one of The Blue Gardenia’s most visually powerful moments, with the ghostly light of the paper’s “Chronicle” sign flashing off and on in the background. Lang contributed some signature visual poetry and succinct pacing to this ordinary tale of a female character whose world takes a sudden unexpected turn down the murky streets of noir. He was ultimately limited by the means at hand, and moved on to more substantial fare the same year with The Big Heat


Originally published in Vol. #1, Issue #13 (“Noir”).

David S. Faris is a Toronto-based writer, musician, DJ, and graphic designer. He has written articles and reviews for music magazines Chart, Exclaim!, and Blue Suede News. He is also a founding member of the Toronto Film Noir Syndicate.