It is fairly common for movies to become television series and vice versa in the early days of TV this wasn’t the case. One of the first films to get the small screen transition is what we have for consideration here, ‘The Naked City.' With a theatrical release in 1948, it preceded its televised cousin by a full decade. The movie remains one of the defining examples of the crime drama, a genre that has been a permanent staple for both formats. ‘The Naked City’ received only a few of the honorifics with Academy Award win in editing and cinematography, with these achiements recognized with a singular honor, recognition by the Registry maintained by the Library of Congress for preservation due to its significant cultural contribution. As a native New Yorker, this film holds a certain nostalgic value for a City in an eternal state of change yet steadfast in its intrinsic vitality. There were names listed in the cast that where among the most popular performers of the time. The real star, the true central character here is the New York City itself. The tag line became famous and forever associated with NYC, "There are eight million stories in the naked city. This has been one of them." Some might feel this film is archaic, technically inferior or severely dated. It is from a certain point of view. The movie filmed in Black and White and framed in the former Academy ratio of 4:3 utilizing a modest monaural audio, the technical specifications were such as to be below current expectations. If you find yourself deterred from experiencing this iconic movie that your credentials as a cinephile consider your credentials as a cinephile are revoked. This film is representative of how a filmmaker could create a masterpiece before the creators of our current state of technology were even born. This movie became the template for much of the crime dramas that would follow. It was shot almost entirely in the streets and buildings of the city as proudly noted by the narrator. The cameras used for the film have undergone a drastic reduction in size over the years, but in 1948 this in itself was quite an innovation as recognized by its Oscar. The genius of the director, Jules Dassin, was how seamlessly he incorporated the unique look and feel of New York City into the story. The positive pulse of the city imtamately infused in every frame of the film.

The film suitably starts at 1 am. In most venues, this would be a time of sleep, but New York is already active. It is a hot summer night, and the inhabitants are winding up the night shifts and making the daily transition into the new day. A housekeeper, Martha Swenson (Virginia Mullen), working on the Upper East Side lets herself into an apartment to begin her routine but is shocked to see the lifeless body of the young model that lived there, Jean Dexter. While William H. Daniels earned his Oscar for his exceptional camera work, it was hoe the movie’s editor Paul Weatherwax, splice that footage together that provided him with his golden statue. The various main characters are shown through intercutting scenes occurring at the same time giving a jittery feel that lends itself ideally to the crime and subsequent investigation. It is a textbook example of how judicious editing is not only to the pacing established by the director but as an emotional foundation for the entire piece.

Catching the case of Miss Dexter’s violent demise is a veteran homicide detective, Dan Muldoon (Barry Fitzgerald). This proud son of the Emerald Isle has years of experience substantiating his well tuned gut instinct. Partnered with the seasoned lieutenant is a younger detective, Jimmy Halloran (Don Taylor); the pair gets started with the investigation as soon as the medical examiner on site declares the death a murder. Familiar now but novel over sixty years ago was the depiction of the modern investigation methods brought to bear on the case. A forensics technician is busy gathering fingerprints while another document every aspect of the crime scene with photographs. A search of the apartment uncovers the first tangible piece of evidence, a pair of men’s pajamas. Back then that was not something found in a single woman’s home. The housekeeper tells the detectives they might belong to a Mr. Henderson, the victim previous dated. She also had a prior relationship with another man, Frank Niles (Howard Duff), noting that some expensive pieces of jewelry were missing. From the audience perspective all of this cast the victim in a morally dubious light. This was further exasperated when the detectives locate and question the model’s psychiatrist, Dr. Stoneman (House Jameson), who prescribed the pills found in Dexter’s apartment. Her parents are notified and asked about their daughter informing them she was obsessed with the rich and famous, moving out of the family home and taking up a promiscuous life style.

Piece by piece Muldoon and Halloran gather the facts to isolate suspects and close in on the perpetrator. This attention to the process in such a realistic fashion was innovative for films of the time. While many movies depicted the intricacies of a police investigation the focus was typically on the detective, inevitably portrayed by a star. Here, despite the fact Fitzgerald was a considerably well known actor the concentration in this film was in the process, the methodical search for clues and the deductive ability of the detective in charge. This emphasis is present in every facet of the film, most notably in the opening. Average New Yorkers, some not even aware they were included in the movie. This laid the foundation that this film was not about a particular character as much as it was concerned with life and death in a city that keeps moving on. Some of the voiceovers used added a touch of comic relief as a mother laments having an infant prone to awakening at 6 am or two young women window shopping during their lunch break. One element of movies that were overlooked with the advent of color photography is how dramatic black and white film can be. The shadows lengthen as the day proceeds, the street lamps illuminate the streets, and people go about their lives unaware that a murder took place a matter of blocks away. The best copy of this film is the Criterion Collection edition. As always the go to great length to preserve the integrity of the film by offering the best possible video and audio possible.