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.