NOIR CITY 11: THE COME ON (1956)—Eddie Muller Introduction

Eddie Muller expressed a couple of caveats regarding the rare screening of Russell Birdwell's The Come On (1956), the second entry in Noir City's annual "Bad Girls Night". He warned that the film was so rare in fact that the print we were about to see suffered for quality, being—as far as he knew—the only 35mm print left in existence. Muller was sure that Castro Theatre projectionist Jeff Root was going to have to work very hard and "ride focus" on this film. "It doesn't really bother me to show one film in this series that is not in really good condition," Muller said, "because it does point out how significantly films can deteriorate and how important it is to do the work to preserve them."

The dilemma, Muller explained, is that some films suffer from what is called "vinegar syndrome", which is a communicable disease that films can share amongst themselves. The film actually begins to warp and deteriorate and archivists will always tell you—if you open up a film can "and it smells like a salad in there"—that's a very bad thing. "This film is starting to seem edible at this point," Muller admitted.

The Come On was an independently-produced movie made in 1956 that did not have the backing of a big studio; it's an Allied Artists picture. It was produced and directed by Russell Birdwell, who was primarily a Hollywood publicist—and though Muller claimed that The Come On was the only movie Birdwell ever directed—IMDb lists a few other projects (namely, The Girl in the Kremlin, 1957). "He is a man who is completely devoid of style," Muller confessed, then qualified, "Well, I don't know if he's a man devoid of style; he's a filmmaker devoid of style." Notwithstanding, Muller deemed the script terrific and a chance to see Sterling Hayden, Anne Baxter and John Hoyt.

As Muller synopsizes in Noir City's snazzy souvenir program: "Sexy married cougar Anne Baxter catches the eye of sunbaked seafarer Sterling Hayden and—wouldn't you know it!—before their swimming suits are dry, they're plotting the murder of her husband (über-creepy John Hoyt). Alas, all is not as it seems in Whitman Chambers' snaky scenario, a '50s version of Body Heat in which one character won't stay dead and the sleazy private eye is America's favorite washing machine repairman (Jesse White). Sun and sand replace the asphalt, but there is more than enough lying and larceny to go around in one of the most scarcely seen titles in the noir canon."

The Come On is one ripe piece of fruit, with Anne Baxter chewing up the palm trees and crossing her eyes when feeling emotionally overcome. Sterling Hayden leans against said palm trees at a nearly inhuman angle, which nonetheless gets him the girl. But perhaps my favorite scene is when Baxter gets Hayden all hot and bothered and then feigns exhaustion, needing to be sent home in a cab. Hayden saunters off but Baxter has the cab pull over to the curb once he's gone around the corner out of sight. As she tosses money at the cabbie to pay her fare, you hear him quip, "I thought he was kind of cute!" Best throwaway gay line ever. Speaking of which, here's a shout-out to the fifth and latest edition of the Noir City Annual, wherein Eddie Muller kicks in a wickedly wry tenspot of Film Noir's gayest couples. A must-read.

NOIR CITY 11: EXPERIMENT IN TERROR (1962)—Lobbycards Gallery

For a movie that is lustrously shot in black and white, these tinted lobbycards reveal a deceptively lurid production.

NOIR CITY 11: EXPERIMENT IN TERROR (1962)—Posters Gallery

NOIR CITY 11: EXPERIMENT IN TERROR (1962)—Eddie Muller Introduction

To introduce the world premiere of the brand-new 4K digital restoration of Experiment in Terror (1962), Eddie Muller expressed his gratitude to Sony Pictures. "You've heard my rap all along about the studios that take care of their films and the studios that don't. Sony Pictures is the absolute great. They own the Columbia library. This is a studio in Hollywood where probably in 10 years you'll be able to have a choice when you ask for a film like Experiment in Terror. They will say, 'The film or in digital?' Yeah! That's a nice option to have."

Muller staged a competition between the studios regarding their digital restorations. He said he was going to call Grover Crisp at Sony and tell him that Paramount has just done an awesome digital restoration of Sunset Blvd. and that his Noir City audience was going to compare it to Sony's restoration of Experiment in Terror. The studios like this, Muller explained, because this is actually how the future is going to work. He has to be able to hold the studios' feet to the fire and say, "This is now the bar. This is what the public expects." I clearly took this staged rivalry too literally, however, when later in the mezzanine I cornered Muller and placed my vote. I wasn't much impressed with the digital restoration of Sunset Blvd.—the contast seemed off to me and the blacks never seemed more than a dark grey—but, Experiment in Terror was thrillingly lustrous, especially in its darkest scenes. In my opinion, Sony had set the bar. Hearing this, Muller tossed me a disgruntled look and emphasized that—as far as he was concerned—both of them had done a great job. Whoops! Whether or not we were supposed to actually choose, my vote remains with Sony.

Having just shown The Sniper—which took a good look at a serial killer in 1952 San Francisco—Noir City now offered San Francisco in 1962 as seen in Experiment in Terror with its beserk, psychotic criminal mastermind. "There's a very significant difference between the two," Muller asserted. "This guy [in Experiment in Terror] does not just pick women off the rooftops, this guy tortures them psychologically first. And we're very lucky that the woman he's torturing is Lee Remick."

Director Blake Edwards loved San Francisco so much that he filmed two movies here back to back—Days of Wine and Roses (1962) and then Experiment in Terror—and really gave Alfred Hitchcock a run for his money with Experiment. Though everyone thought of him as a comedian, Edwards proved he could pull a Hitchcock and ratchet up the suspense, plus he worked with his long-time collaborator Henry Mancini on an absolutely fantastic score; one of the best ever, really.

Because Experiment in Terror includes fantastic location shooting in San Francisco, as a special treat to his San Francisco Noir audience Muller offered a clip reel concocted by Brian Hollins—administrator of ReelSF.com—which shows all the San Francisco locations used in Experiment in Terror, first as they originally appear in the film, followed by video of how they appear today.

NOIR CITY 11: THE SNIPER (1952)—Lobbycards

NOIR CITY 11: THE SNIPER (1952)—Marie Windsor Gallery

NOIR CITY 11: THE SNIPER (1952)—Eddie Muller Introduction

Introducing the first of two "San Francisco Noir" films, Eddie Muller recalled that Noir City screened The Sniper (1952) at their first festival back in 2003, but was delighted to bring this interesting film back for another round. The writing team of Edna and Edward Anhalt did a lot of research. "Believe it or not," Muller stressed, "In 1952 when this film was made there was not a serial killer movie coming out every single week. This was sort of the groundbreaker, right? It actually plays interestingly on a double-bill with a later film shot in San Francisco: Dirty Harry (1971). Those of you who are familiar with that movie can see the parallels between the two. Of course, in 1952 a great deal of time is paid to the official manhunt that tracks down the sniper, whereas—by the time 1971 rolled around—the cop had to actually throw away his badge and go out as a vigilante to track the guy down. That says something."

A terrific movie bolstered by the research endeavored by the Anhalts who studied the psychology of serial killers, Muller mentioned that those in the audience who saw Try and Get Me! and endured the character of Dr. Vito Simone (Renzo Cesana)—"the know-it-all Italian physicist who told us exactly what was necessary for mankind to exist in harmony"—finds a student in Richard Kiley who performs an equally know-it-all function in The Sniper.

One of the fascinating aspects of The Sniper is that it was directed by Edward Dmytryk, one of the Hollywood Ten. The film was made after he had recanted and offered up names to the House Un-American Activities Committee so he could regain his Hollywood career. Hearing some hissing in the audience, Muller asserted, "Everyone was a victim, trust me." Dmytryk signed on with Stanley Kramer to direct The Sniper, the second movie he'd made after being reinstated, as it were, in the industry.

Muller wished he could have been a fly on the wall during The Sniper's location shoot "because the man who played—that's right—Lt. Kafka, Adolphe Menjou, was one of the great red baiters in Hollywood; in fact, he was insufferable. To imagine he and Dmytryk on the same set together," Muller fantasized, "Oh my God! I would have loved to have heard what some of those conversations were like."

The sniper is played by a wonderful actor, Arthur Franz, who within the movie plays a character named Eddie Miller. After deadpanning his baited laughter, Muller quipped, "Say no more!" The Sniper likewise features one of Muller's favorite dark city dames, the fabulous Marie Windsor.

Because The Sniper includes fantastic location shooting in San Francisco, as a special treat to his San Francisco Noir audience Muller offered a clip reel concocted by Brian Hollins—administrator of ReelSF.com—which shows all the San Francisco locations used in The Sniper, first as they originally appear in the film, followed by video of how they appear today.

"With that," Muller concluded, "let's all curl up and get snuggly and close for the first serial killer movie shot in San Francisco."