I am ashamed to admit that I wasn't exactly certain what The Black Dahlia was about when the station asked me to attend the screening. I mean, I knew it was film noir but that was about it. So I jumped online and went to IMDB to get the lowdown. Josh Hartnett, Scarlett Johansson, Aaron Eckhart, Hillary Swank, Mia Kirshner...the castlist read like the VIP list at a Hollywood hotspot. I had scored! I read the brief synopsis and once I realized it was about the murder of aspiring actress Elizabeth Short the light bulb clicked on and I knew I would be in for a dark cinematic treat. What further enhanced my enthusiasm was the fact that I had not yet read the novel by James Ellroy that the film is based on. See, I am one of those people that can seldom enjoy a film if I have already read the book and it goes back to something a professor once said to me as I pursued a degree in Theatre Arts. "Nobody can ever create an image as effectively with wood or paint that you can in your own head." Inspiring—yes. But it spoiled me on many a good film.
I should preface my comments about Brian De Palma's The Black Dahlia with the same disclaimer that the people at Universal printed in their program. "While this story is inspired by the real murder of Elizabeth Short, the characters and specific incidents in the film are fictional and based on James Ellroy's novel 'The Black Dahlia.'"
The film begins with two boxing cops, Bucky Bleichert (Josh Hartnett) and Lee Blanchard (Aaron Eckhart) amidst the zoot suit riots of 1940's Los Angeles. Through their talents in the ring, Mr. Fire and Mr. Ice become the PR face of the LAPD. Shortly after, they are assigned to the case of the brutally murdered Elizabeth Short (Mia Kirshner) who appears in the film in a series of footage taken from her numerous and questionable audition reels. Bucky meets Blanchard's girlfriend, Kay Lake (Scarlett Johansson) and the three become inseparable. Blanchard slowly and methodically becomes obsessed with solving the Black Dahlia case (so christened for the flower in Short's black hair) while Bucky begins a romance with the wealthy and mysterious Madeleine Linscott (Hilary Swank). As the pace picks up, the storyline darts in many interesting directions and occasionally doubles back on itself before we discover the who, the when, and, for the most part, the why.
As I was watching, I couldn't help thinking that I was watching Hollywood's brightest being tested on film in a genre exercise. While the shots were beautiful, the art direction stunning, flawless period costumes, dialogue true to noir--none of the performances necessarily completed the unification of style. Fortunately I am not a purist and was able to enjoy the ensemble's contemporary characterizations and got the impression that there might be a tongue in cheek element involved. Mia Kirshner's stand-alone work as Elizabeth was magnetic, Eckhart and Hartnett skillfully flesh out their boxing crime fighters with truth, Johansson is a picturesque and subtle Lake, and Swank nails the class and depth of Linscott. Visually, I enjoyed the composition and the 40's tour of Los Angeles, frequently thinking to myself, "I've been there." The drama of the murder balanced nicely with some of the quirkier elements of the film. There was a wonderful night club scene doused with a lesbian chorus line and featured a cameo by KD Lang as well as Bucky's bizarre visit to the Linscott home. It is in this scene that Fiona Shaw has a stand-out performance as Hilary Swank's unbalanced mother, Ramona Linscott.
When the lights came up at the end of the film, it took me a little while to untangle all of the varied thoughts and impressions that had been made in the previous two plus hours. There was much of it that was reminiscent of "LA Confidential" but not as sharp or as well paced. Honestly, I just felt a little confused. In the elevator to the parking garage there was a group of us who had all just attended the screening and somebody mutters "non sequitur." It is at this moment that I realize I have changed...I definitely should have read the book first.
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This week's "New Yorker" said:
The picture is a kind of fattened goose that has been stuffed with goose-liver pate. It's overrich and fundamentally unsatisfying.