In a Lonely Place

SPOILER ALERT! The plot will be discussed.

If you’re looking for escapist entertainment, a film directed by Nicholas Ray is not what you seek. Analyses of two of his other films on this blog, Rebel Without a Cause and Bigger Than Life, illustrate that he is a thought-provoking filmmaker. Made in 1950, In a Lonely Place delves into the artistically destructive aspect of the Hollywood movie world. It also exposes how men have violent streaks that may erupt to varying degrees, particularly in their relationships with women when their traditional male roles are challenged. But, beyond these specific themes, here, as he does in other films, Ray explores the explosive confrontation between the unrestricted, almost manic wants of the individual as they collide with the confining rules of society.

Director Curtis Hanson, in his comments in the Criterion edition of this movie, says the title refers to: (1) the place where a writer toils; (2) a place where a person battles with his demons; (3) and a place without love. All three of these figurative applications exist in the film. Dixon Steele (Humphrey Bogart) is a Hollywood screenwriter, which means he writes in solitude. He wants to bend life to his will, as he does in his writings, and is thwarted in his efforts. He feels isolated by this frustration, which leads to violent reactions that increase isolation and alienation. As we see, he is not able to exist in a committed loving relationship, which fits the third criteria of loneliness. The movie effectively adds nuance to the stereotypical film noir characters, which typically consist of the hard-boiled detective and the femme fatale, as noted by Julie Grossman in her essay, “Women and Film Noir: Pulp Fiction and the Women’s Picture.” Steele’s name may indicate rigidity on the surface, but it hides the out-of-control aspect of his personality. The character of Laurel has the last name of “Gray,” which indicates that she exists in an area in between the narrowly defined “good” and “bad” types of women usually depicted in these movies that explore the dark side of the human soul.

As the titles appear, there is a shot of Dixon, who is usually called “Dix,” driving at night, appropriate in a noir movie, and he looks in his rearview mirror. We start the film from his perspective. As was noted in discussions of other movies, mirrors are used to reflect the “other” part of a person, possibly here as the darker aspect of Dix’s mind. His eyes dart around as if looking for encroaching danger, like an alert animal. The shot also implies a sense of something off-center, possibly unstable about him. This perception is quickly confirmed when he stops at a traffic light and the woman in the car next to him, sitting beside her husband, recognizes Dix as the writer of the last movie she was in. He doesn’t recall her, and admits that he doesn’t see the films he wrote, probably because he doesn’t want to know how they ruined his writing. The husband is jealous, telling Dix to leave his wife alone. In reaction to this attack, which Dix was primed for, he calls the man a “pig” and warns the woman that her husband isn’t worth it no matter how much money he has. The insulting implication is that his wealth can be the only reason she would be with him, and reveals Dix’s contempt for the powerful rich. The man, a sort of version of Dix’s volatile character, wants to rumble, and that ignites Dix’s anger as he is ready to fight as the other car drives off.

As Dix arrives at a restaurant, and is recognized by the valet driver, a young boy, assuming Dix is famous, asks for his autograph. The kid admits he doesn’t even know who Dix is, which shows the public’s hunger for attachment to fame exhibits no discernment. The young girl hanging out with the boy says that Dix is “nobody,” which shows the cruel nature of fans not caring how hurting their words can be. Dix agrees, wearing the dismissal outwardly as a badge of honor, since he does not want to be associated with the standard Hollywood successes. Dix says that the man who then arrives is “somebody.” He says it is Lloyd Barnes (Morris Ankrum), a “Big director.” Lloyd says he and Mel Lippman (Art Smith), Dix’s agent, have been calling Dix for three days to find out if he likes the novel they want him to adapt. They promise he’ll be given a good salary. Dix’s cynicism is shown when he immediately says, “I like it,” showing how he doesn’t expect the story to be good, and that people only collaborate to make money in the movie industry. The checkroom girl, Mildred Atkinson (Martha Stewart) is reading the novel in question, and says she’ll give it to Dix as soon as she finishes reading the last pages. She says the movie made from it would be an “epic.” Dix asks her with a sly smile to say what does that mean in order to reveal the young woman’s shallow understanding of stories. She says, “it’s real long and has a lot of things going on.” After the men leave her to finish the book, Mel says that Mildred is part of Dix’s audience. Dix tells Mel that if he says that again he’ll get another agent, showing his disdain for the movie-going public.

At the bar, they encounter a down-on-his-luck actor, Charlie Waterman (Robert Warwick), who is a drunk. Mel and Lloyd want to sit elsewhere, but Dix says the man isn’t “contagious.” But that is how failure in Hollywood is perceived, and Dix has a fond spot for the actor because he understands how cruel show business can be to its own. Mel is worried about Dix’s state of mind and says he needs to start working again. Dix cynically dismisses the sincerity of Mel’s concern, saying the man needs money and the agent gets 10%, which implies Dix's working has nothing to do with Dix’s well-being. Mel points out that he doesn’t need much money because he doesn’t spend much on liquor as he has ulcers, which shows the wear and tear of the movie industry. Dix wants to adhere to his artistic standards, and says he “won’t work on something I don’t like.” Lloyd says that Dix hasn’t had a hit since before the war, which points to how returning from combat unhinged Dix, turning him upside down. The military changed how he deals with women, who took on roles during World War II that were traditionally held by men. Dix acknowledges that the last script he wrote was a flop, and that Lloyd doesn’t have failures because he’s “made and remade the same picture for the last twenty years.” He calls Lloyd a “popcorn salesman,” basically finding no artistic achievement in the director’s work. But Lloyd says so is Dix, as he is working in the same business.

Another filmmaker comes in boasting loudly about what a great movie he just made and ignores Charlie, who Dix points out made millions for his father-in-law. The man says his father-in-law made a star out of a drunkard, and says Charlie is looking into his “crystal ball,” which is his glass of whiskey, implying the actor is seeing his future as a continuing alcoholic. Dix gets into a fight with the filmmaker. Afterwards, Dix seems distraught, possibly feeling exhausted from trying to deal with his anger. Others there say Dix is at it again, so his temper flare-ups have been habitual.

Fran Randolph (Alix Talton), an actress, shows up at Dix’s table. She is between pictures, which stresses the unstable nature of the film business. She says she called Dix many times, and he didn’t answer his phone. He says that he doesn’t talk to people who have his number, which is a witty way of saying he doesn’t speak to anyone, as he has become so isolative. She asks him to come over to her place, but he says he has to read the book for the writing job. She reminds him in a sexy voice how she used to read to him, suggesting that there was more than reading going on. He gives her a smart but rude response by saying he has learned to read alone, again emphasizing his “lonely place” state of mind. She gets up to leave, saying, “Do you look down on all women, or just the ones you know?” Her remark reveals Dix’s history for mistreating women and his bad track record with relationships.

Mildred, the checkroom woman, brings back the “Althea Bruce” book to Dix after finishing it. He wants to bring her back to his place to tell him the story since he is tired and doesn’t feel like reading the whole novel. At first Mildred thinks he is just picking her up, but when he tells her she can help him, she says he makes her “feel real important,” which shows her naive movie fan worship. Dix says to the waiter that, “There’s no sacrifice too great for a chance at immortality.” The man just gives a “Hm,” in response. This exchange seems to show Dix satirizing how lofty lines by a writer are lost on the masses, or it could be he is showing how pompous statements are agreed to by an ignorant public. Either way the exchange illustrates how Dix sees himself as superior to those around him.

At his place, Laurel Gray (Gloria Grahame, who won the Oscar for supporting actress for this role), who resides at the apartment complex, walks between him and Mildred. As she passes she slows down, and she and Dix exchange glances that signify that she will be inserted into the script of his life. Mildred says that she thought that actors made up their own lines, which shows how fans don’t really know how movies are made, and how they attribute too much credit to stars. He concedes that big stars do make up their own lines, but he says it without admiration. When they go inside he takes off his shoes and puts on his robe, and she wonders if talk about the book was just “a pretense to lure” her. He says that he likes to be comfortable when working on a story. He may have originally had designs on her, but those fade as her lack of depth comes through. It may also be that she is an innocent, and he is not attracted to that type, since he harbors a corrupted personality. She mispronounces the title of the book, and as she relates the story she spouts malapropisms, such as saying the story is “risky,” instead of “risqué.” She thinks the movie should be in technicolor, and Dix condescendingly says that he’ll suggest that to the producer.

The novel is a melodramatic cliché-ridden romance, and Dix quickly sees how mediocre the tale is. As she talks he looks out of his window and exchanges glances with Laurel, who is now in her nightgown, standing on her balcony. The shot reveals that there is chemistry between them. The novel’s story about a possible murder of the husband by the widow reflects the movie’s plot since it, too, deals with violence. The mirroring of the two stories shows the connection and disconnection between life and movies. Dix deduces that Mildred is not in love with her steady, reliable boyfriend, Dix's writer's ability giving him insight into her character. His correct assumption also points to Mildred, although being an innocent, who doesn't drink or go out with customers, possibly having a wild side that may mean she would like to be with somebody not so nice. He is dismissive of her, telling Mildred that he is tired and asks if it’s okay that he doesn’t drive her home. He suggests going to a taxicab stand right around the corner.

Dix’s cop friend, Brub Nicolai (Frank Lovejoy), shows up the next morning at five am. He hasn’t seen Dix since he was promoted to detective and was married. It isn’t a social call, and Dix thinks it’s about his fight at the restaurant. Brub says it isn’t, and his police captain wants to talk to him. Captain Lochner (Carl Benton Reid) interrogates Dix about Mildred. He wants to know why he took her to his place, asks if she drank, and why he gave her $20 instead of calling for a cab, which is what a gentleman would do. He said he was not a gentleman, so he didn’t call for a cab. Dix is glib, saying he still has her fingerprints on the glass of ginger ale if the police want to check it out. Lochner says that Dix was already told that Mildred was killed and the body dumped from a moving car. But Dix shows no shock or sympathy. Lochner says Dix’s reaction is one of “petulance,” with “a couple of feeble jokes.” Dix continues with wisecracks, saying the jokes could have been better, but he shouldn’t be upset unless he was being charged “with lack of emotion.” It’s almost like he doesn’t take life as being real, but sees it more like details from a story. Lochner asks if Dix knows anything about the guy Mildred broke her date with to be with Dix, since the man could be a possible suspect.

Brub comes in and says that the killer strangled the woman by bending his arm at the elbow in a vice-like grip around her neck and squeezing. Lochner asks about Brub’s knowledge of Dix. He was the cop’s commanding officer. during the war. He gives Dix pictures of the body which was thrown into a canyon. The most empathy Dix shows is by saying, “Poor kid.” Dix says he didn’t have any visitors the previous night after Mildred left, and had one call which he didn’t answer. However, he does remember encountering the neighbor.

The police bring Laurel to the precinct. She admits to moving in a couple of days prior, and only knew Dix by reputation since the landlord bragged about having a celebrity living at the apartment complex, another example of the allure of fame. She says that she saw Dix say goodbye to Mildred. Dix notes, with a slight smile on his face, that he saw her on her balcony in a negligee, revealing his attraction for her. She says she observed him not because of his celebrity, but she liked the way his face looked. She is very frank here. She leaves, followed by Dix, who offers her a ride home. She says she always leaves with the man she came with, in this case a detective. Her statement shows she doesn’t want to be taken for a promiscuous woman, and maybe she’s being a little cautious. Detective Brub admits to Lochner that if he was told about the woman being murdered he would be shaken, unlike Dix. He says that he and fellow soldiers couldn’t figure Dix out in the service, but he was respected, and Brub doesn’t think Dix had anything to do with the killing. Lochner thinks Dix is hiding something, which turns out to be the writer’s violent tendencies.

Dix walks home and stops by a flower shop to order roses for Mildred, even though he has no idea where she lived. He tells the shop worker to look it up, since her murder was in the news. It shows a softer side underneath Dix’s hard “Steele” exterior. Mel shows up at Dix’s and is upset about the killing. He says the screenwriting deal will be off since it’s now known that Dix didn’t even read the book and had the woman come over to tell him about it. Dix offers putting out as a cover story that he told the police about the book as an excuse for why he invited Mildred over to his place. Mel says that’s not a bad idea, which shows how lying goes a long way in Hollywood. Mel gathered information about Laurel, who he says was romantically attached to a realtor named Baker. She is also an actress who was in a few bit parts, and probably told Dix that she liked his face to get another movie role. The assumption is that somebody in show business is always working a personal angle. Mel wants to know that Dix didn’t have anything to do with the woman’s death. Dix has fun with Mel, responding with lines that could be from a script, saying the captain was smart and almost had him, but Dix told a good story. He pretends that he avoided getting arrested for the crime. He strings Mel along, saying he had a good alibi, and the worried Mel says he’ll have to get Dix a good lawyer or help him escape to Mexico.

The above “pretend” scene is intercut with one containing actual facts at the police station, as Lochner reads a list of multiple assault charges against Dix. One notes Dix broke a guy’s jaw. Another states an assault on a woman, whose nose was broken, which establishes that Dix can be violent with women. The victims dropped charges or changed their stories, maybe because of Dix’s influence in the movie industry. Connections to the #MeToo movement of today come to mind.

Laurel visits Dix and asks that he keep her name out of the papers. He says that she has the advantage of seeing into his apartment, but he can’t look into hers. She says she won’t take advantage, but he says he would if things were reversed, which hints at him being a bit of a pervert. He says he was lucky she liked his face. As he moves in for a kiss, she backs off, humorously saying his face interested her, but it didn’t mean she wanted to kiss it. He is right to assume that, being an actress, it would be unusual to not want publicity. So he realizes that she wanted her name out of the press to stay hidden from the realtor, Baker. She admits that they were going to get married, but she decided it wouldn’t work. The fact that she avoided confrontation lets Dix to correctly conclude that Laurel is “a quitter, the ‘get out before you get hurt’ type.” She says she "thinks twice" about getting into something, and has only had time to "think once" about Dix, as she refreshes the cliché. He says that they’ll have dinner together that night. She wittily says they’ll have dinner, but not together. She reveals her caution beneath her banter. He says he immediately thought to himself that she was different, “not coy or cute or corny. She’s a good guy. I’m glad she’s on my side. She speaks her mind and she knows what she wants.” He seems to be writing a summary of a story character, again substituting fiction for life. The reference to her being a “good guy” suggests that he likes her for having a list of what he judges as male qualities, which also shows him to have a lower opinion of women. She adds that she also knows what she doesn’t want, “and I don’t want to be rushed.” While he may admire certain aspects of her associated with men, she shows her wariness of other male characteristics. The meeting ends with a phone call from Brub. He says he talked to his wife Sylvia, who wants Dix to come over for dinner the next night. Brub makes the call from the police station, and Lochner says “good,” showing that he wanted Brub to get closer to Dix to find out more about what he’s been up to.

At Brub’s place, Brub tells Dix that Mildred’s boyfriend was Henry Kesler (Jack Reynolds). His alibi is that his mom brought pie to him, and later his father heard him snoring on the night of the murder. In the morning when he found out what happened to Mildred he says he went to the police. Dix, again mixing real life and fiction, says Brub and his wife, Sylvia (Jeff Donnell) don’t watch enough whodunits. Those films solve the crime in less than a couple of hours. Dix says he’ll help Brub with the case. Dix claims you have to have enough imagination to visualize the crime. Acting like a movie director, he sets up two chairs like they are the front seats of a car. Dix says the murder took place in the car because if the killer did it somewhere else he would have put the body in the trunk and dumped it while the car was stopped, which is contrary to the evidence. He tells Brub to put his arm around Sylvia’s neck and begin to squeeze. Dix says that the victim began to protest that she did nothing wrong. Dix even envisions the conversation, which shows his creative writing ability, but it also reveals his spooky ability to envision the crime. Dix says that Brub knows martial arts, so he knows how to hurt someone because he’s ex-military, which makes the action personal, bringing into account Brub’s background, but also Dix’s. Dix shows a malevolent glee in the reenactment. He says, “you don’t see her bulging eyes or protruding tongue,” which demonstrates how well he can picture the crime scene, as if he has seen it before. Dix urges Brub on when he says “Go ahead. Go ahead, Brub. Squeeze harder.” Dix talks about how the killer loved the victim, but she betrayed him, revealing how Dix sees deception as a trait he attributes to women. Dix says the killer can see the victim’s condescending attitude toward him, which mirrors Dix’s own paranoia about those who judge his work. Dix says the victim is “impressed with celebrities.” That is what Mildred was, so Dix has borrowed from life to tell his story. Dix is really scary as he says, “it’s wonderful to feel her throat crush under your arm.” Brub gets caught up in the description that Dix supplies, and Sylvia has to tell him to stop. Brub is a police officer, who is supposed to protect people, but this scene tries to demonstrate that male violence is in him, too, and can be coaxed out.

Sylvia is now very wary of Dix. She suggests that the victim could have used her hands to scratch and release herself. Dix points out that Sylvia instinctively tried to loosen Brub’s grip, which was a hopeless act, and that Mildred did the same thing. She says Dix has given the killing a lot of thought, and Dix explains that he has killed numerous people in scripts. He says jokingly that he couldn’t throw a beautiful woman out of a car, because his artistic temperament wouldn’t permit it.  He says creative storytellers respect “cadavers,” wrapping them in things like rugs, not disposing of them like “cigarette butts.” The place where the body was thrown is referred to as being “in a lonely place.” So, a place of death is associated with isolation, where an outsider may reside, physically or mentally, which is a form of death to some people. After Dix leaves, Sylvia says that there is something sick about Dix. Brub says he’s just exciting, and brilliant, describing him like what we would now call a profiler. Brub says he learned more from Dix in this reenactment than going over all the evidence. She says Dix may be exciting because he isn’t quite normal. The film implies that it takes a woman to see when a man’s baser instincts aren’t being kept under wraps.

Dix decides, after hesitating, to visit Laurel, knocking insistently on her door. She says she is on the phone, and says she heard him knock the first time, which registers her previous caution about not being rushed. She lets him in, but she has looks that show some guarding. Unlike his cool presentation earlier, he looks unsure of himself, like he isn’t on familiar ground with her. He says, “You annoy me,” which is very different than “I can’t get you out of my head,” which would communicate infatuation. His statement shows being almost angered by her because of her effect on him. He asks who is “Martha,” who she was talking to on the phone. She says she is someone who comes over occasionally and “beats me black and blue.” Martha is a masseuse, but there is a sort of sadomasochistic subtext here, implying that Laurel, too, has two sides to her personality. He interrupts her impatiently to see if she’s thought “twice” and considered a relationship with him. She says she is interested, but wanted to give him time to “think twice,” too. He kisses her. He sounds romantic as he talks about how he has been looking for someone like her. But his hands are wrapped around her throat which adds a note of violence to his caress. He says he dreamed of a special girl, but didn’t know anything about her. But then he says the two of them came together because a girl was murdered, and he adds “Now I know your name, where you live and how you look.” The romantic aspect of the scene takes on a threatening feel, with a creepy stalking slant suggested.

Mel comes by one day and sees Dix writing with Laurel in his apartment. They are now involved and she tells Mel that he’s been working for days. Mel says to Laurel Dix hasn’t worked this hard since before the war, so he credits Laurel for this positive effect. Even in their playful romantic moments, there is a menacing undertone to Dix. She affectionately holds him, telling him to stop working. He then grabs her, saying, “if you don’t let me alone, I’m gonna kick you right outta here.” There is a violent tinge to the word “kick.” Right after this exchange, she says if he told her to go, she would leave for Chicago and be a salesgirl for Fuller Brush. He says, “You’ll go when I tell you to go and not before. Remember that.” He wants her to be with him, but there is a threatening exertion of power over her in his words.

Brub brings Laurel to see Lochner again while Dix gets some sleep. She has a defiant, sarcastic attitude when Lochner questions if she was telling the truth during her first interview when she said she didn’t know Dix, but then vouched for him, and now she states she loves him. He asks if they will be married, and she answers that she’ll send Lochner an invitation since he introduced them. Lochner shows her several photos of men who seem normal, but are actually maniac killers. Lochner says they just wanted to destroy something beautiful, which could mean Laurel is in danger. So again the violent tendencies toward women that some men cannot control is emphasized. Lochner stresses that “killing has a fascination” for Dix and his past shows him to be a violent man, and is still their chief suspect. She tries to reassure Lochner by saying that Dix is a changed man.

Dix and Laurel are at a club sharing a romantic time, while the piano player sings a song about a person with a lonely (that word again) heart finding love. This appears to apply to Dix. But then the couple’s sweet moment is interrupted when one of Lochner’s cops shows up with his wife. It is just a coincidence, but Dix quickly becomes angry, his feelings of persecution activated, and he forcefully puts out his cigarette, jarring the singer. As they leave, Dix, with a nasty sounding voice, informs the detective where they’re going next, in case he wants to tail them.

The next scene has Laurel with Martha (Ruth Gillette), the masseuse. She warns Laurel about only getting six hours sleep since she has been typing Dix’s script, and being “a nursemaid and a sweetheart, a cook and a secretary.” Laurel says she’s been happy. Martha is rough in her handling of Laurel, who complains of the pain. She calls Laurel “angel” and talks about how they could be at Baker’s place together next to the pool. Martha comes off as more traditionally masculine than feminine, almost implying that Laurel can’t avoid being harmed. Dix arrives with gifts, but also puts in an order for Laurel to cook breakfast, undermining the generosity. He says that they will go to a beach party that night with Brub and his wife. She says she only vaguely remembers him from the day she met Dix. Laurel has hidden the fact that Brub picked her up for further interrogation, which shows how she doesn’t want to stoke Dix’s anger. Martha, who clearly doesn’t like Dix for leading Laurel away from a pampered life, reminds her that the police didn’t catch the killer yet, implying that Dix could be the murderer. She also says she worked for the actress named Fran who was in the early scene in the restaurant. Laurel already knows that Martha is going to tell some bad story about Dix, and critically says as much. But, her wariness is building because of all of Dix’s past actions. Martha says he broke Fran’s nose (which was noted in Lochner’s report on Dix). Laurel says then why didn’t Martha warn Fran, if she knew Dix was such a “brute.” Laurel is angry and throws Martha out, but Martha says she will come back because Laurel doesn’t have anybody else. So, Laurel has also been a loner, an outsider, like Dix, and maybe that is one of the reasons she connected with him. Martha warns her that it won’t be as easy getting out of the situation as she did with Baker, probably because of Dix’s temper. Martha is most likely gay, and impervious to whatever charm Dix exerts. She provides a feminine, outsider view as the perspective has changed from Dix's point of view to a female one at this point.

Later that night on the beach, Sylvia asks if a writer has his story worked out beforehand. Dix says Laurel is such an inspiration that she removes the need for planning. He says she talks too much, though, and “The only way I can shut her up is to sit down and write.” On the surface he is being playful, but it seems a complement is always undercut with a dig. He then enumerates a list of scheming female stereotypical characteristics, saying that women know nothing about some things, but everything about “community property.” They can’t do math, but they know “how many minks make a coat.” This veneer of fun is scraped off when Sylvia says that the two should get married and they’ll have to invite Lochner as Laurel promised. So, it comes out that Laurel met the captain again. She says that she and Brub didn’t tell Dix so he wouldn’t get upset. But instead of understanding, Dix’s default position is to lash out, calling her a liar, and feeling persecuted because, as he says, they are still trying to pin the murder on him. He storms off.

Laurel follows him and gets into Dix’s car as he drives recklessly away, mirroring his internal turbulence. Dix’s rage is escalating. He swipes another car on the road. The two cars stop and the owner of the other car, John Mason, (Don Hamin), who we later find out is a college football star, yells at Dix, who then fights the man, pummeling him on the ground. In his boundless rage, Dix picks up a rock and is ready to crush the man’s skull. But Laurel yells, bringing Dix back from the violent brink. They drive off with Mason left on the side of the road, unconscious, an example of collateral damage resulting from Dix’s anger.

They stop and as he now accepts a cigarette from Laurel, Dix has his arm bent around Laurel’s neck, mimicking the method the killer used to murder Mildred, connecting the two men through their violent propensities. Laurel’s eyes show that she is aware of the threat to her and appears relieved when he removes the arm. He blames the guy on the road for deserving what he had coming to him. She says Dix's anger is displaced, because he is really furious about what he learned about Laurel seeing Lochner again. He disagrees, saying the man was like a hundred other of his type he had fights with. She asks him if he’s proud of all of those fights, and he says no, but he was in the right. Addicts, whatever the “drug,” don’t usually admit to their behavior being their fault at first. They tend to see themselves as victims. She points out that what the man said, that Dix was a “blind, knuckle-headed squirrel,” wasn’t that nasty. He smiles at her insight and tells her to drive, realizing he should have time to cool down. He quotes some lines: “I was born when she kissed me. I died when she left me. I lived a few weeks while she loved me.” He says he wants to put them in his script. He asks her to repeat the words to see how they sound. She hesitates, because as she says them, she notes they sound like a farewell, and possibly a summation of his feelings about the extreme nature and brevity of their relationship.

There is a headline in the newspaper about an unknown person who badly beat Mason on the road. Dix goes to the post office and sends $300 to Mason, signing it with the last name “Squirrel.” The action is similar to what he did when he sent flowers to Mildred’s address after learning about her death. People around him get hurt and he tries to make amends after the fact.

Dix visits Brub the next day at the station to tell him that he should ask him directly about any questions he has, as opposed to the way he went around Dix with Laurel. Brub says he is a cop and had to follow orders that brought in Laurel for questioning. Dix encounters Mildred’s boyfriend, Kesler, at the police station. Dix proceeds to tell Kesler that he, being the boyfriend, makes a better suspect, since he could have been inflicting jealous rage on Mildred. Kesler says he didn’t feel that the police were trying to pin a murder on him, and says almost admiringly that Dix is quite creative inventing scenarios. Dix responds with a jab, saying that Kesler has hands that count money. The scene illustrates the difference in temperament between the two men, Kesler appearing easygoing and Dix sounding aggressive. As it turns out, benign appearances can be deceiving, and at least Dix isn’t trying to hide who he is, even if it isn’t a pretty picture.

Laurel visits Sylvia, saying how she longs for a peaceful cottage, like Sylvia’s, so she could live near the ocean. Laurel shows a yearning for tranquility and safety. Her worry about Dix is heightened now after witnessing his attack on the road. She says she thinks Lochner was warning her. She says there is something wrong with Dix. She reveals her apprehension, saying, “I keep worrying about it. I stay awake nights trying to find out what it is.” She says how one moment Dix is sweet, and then she sees his nastiness. He can be like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. (But, as was noted above, Laurel has her cautious side which is undermined by her attraction to danger, even pain). She says how can she say she loves him but also wonder if Lochner is right about Dix. Sylvia is alarmed for her and seems to channel Laurel’s tendency to run away when she tells Laurel to leave for a while to figure things out. Laurel tells her about how Dix acted like a “maniac” on the road. She hoped that voicing her fears would show how ridiculous they are, but talking to Sylvia hasn’t dispelled her doubts.

The sleeping Laurel is haunted by the words of Martha and Lochner. Dix goes to Laurel’s place the next day, and tells Effie the maid not to run the vacuum cleaner while Laurel sleeps. He learns from her that Laurel takes sleeping pills, which surprises Dix, wondering how long she’s been using them. He seems concerned about her as he picks up her medicine bottle, and says he’ll start making breakfast for her. He goes into the kitchen, which is not his domain. He has a grapefruit knife that is bent, which he straightens out. Now, director Ray doesn’t just throw this shot in for no reason. A knife can be a weapon. But, a sword or blade is an archetypal symbol for the penis. The fact that it is bent seems symbolically to represent a psychological image of impotence or emasculation. Which is what Dix (a phallic name in and of itself) has felt after leaving the military and returning to a world where he can’t lawfully exert his male killer instinct. It is a life which has placed women in some traditional roles assigned to men, so there has been “gender inversions” (as noted in another of Julie Grossman’s essays: “Looking Back: Modern Women and the Fatal(e) Progeny of Victorian Representations”). Laurel comes into the kitchen and says she’ll take over, since she knows that Dix is used to the traditional role of the woman in the kitchen. To his credit, he says he wants to take care of breakfast for her. She asks what happened to the knife, and she tells him that it’s supposed to be curved, stressing his lack of the culinary and, thus, traditional female activities.

She says she finished typing the script and that she liked the love scene. He says that’s because a good love scene is more than about love. He says that the scene they are in, with him cutting the grapefruit and her sitting there sleepily, shows that they are in love. His lines are spoken in a movie commenting on screenwriting as they present a character that is a writer analyzing screenwriting. It’s art reflecting on the art process itself. But, in this case, the scene is deceiving, since the characters have misgivings about each other. He says that Effie said that they should get married so she can clean the apartments. She says, “isn’t there an easier way?” If they were truly in love they would be cheerful and showing playfulness. But instead they look sad, and Laurel actually seems like she wants to avoid marriage talk with her comment, which under other circumstances would make them laugh.

They sit down for breakfast and his face registers her morose feelings. He asks about the sleeping pills and wonders why she didn’t say anything about them, which is a red flag for him, signaling her troubled feelings. She says she loves him, but then follows with “But there’s no reason to rush into anything.” From the beginning she said she doesn’t like to be rushed and all he does is try to push her into things, especially from this point onward. She’s having those “second thoughts” following her initial second thoughts when they met. He makes an attempt at being clever as he talks about not moving too fast, as long as she agrees to marry him in the next ten seconds. But he sounds more desperate than witty. She runs out of the room into the kitchen, using the coffee being ready as an excuse. She hesitates, but he pushes for an answer to his marriage proposal. She says yes, but while they kiss, she keeps opening her eyes, as if on the lookout for danger lurking behind the show of affection.

Dix goes out and tells Effie that she’ll be able to clean the apartments the next day. Mel arrives and hears from Effie about the impending marriage. Mel enters Laurel's apartment overjoyed as Laurel is trying to reach Martha, probably sending out a plea for her support. She leaves a message to have Martha call her. Then Laurel starts crying, saying she can’t marry Dix because she is afraid of him, doesn’t trust him, and now isn’t sure he didn’t kill Mildred. She asks why can’t he be like “other people.” But Mel says she knew he was different from average folks. She probably was attracted to him because, as Mel says, he was like “dynamite,” and “he has to explode sometimes.” There is this fascination and fear with what is dangerous in humans. Mel says he tried to get Dix to see a psychiatrist. He says that his violence is part of what he is, and he learned that to accept him one has “to take the good with the bad.” But, Laurel can’t accept both parts of Dix, and she wants to get out before she gets hurt, which is what Dix said early on about how she behaves. Mel says she never should have said she’d marry him, because Dix, wrapped up in his own ego, can’t accept defeat. Mel says that if the movie executive likes Dix’s script, then that will be the time to say no to the marriage, because, “If Dix has success, he doesn’t need anything else.” So, despite his scorn for the star system, Dix craves acceptance, too, and the fact that approval is all Dix requires is a sure sign that Laurel should leave. She gives Mel the finished script and says it is wonderful. After he leaves, Dix returns. Laurel is on the phone inquiring about a plane reservation, and she has to hang up. He wants her to go with him to get fitted for the engagement ring. She tries to stall, but again he uses violent language, saying he will have to “drag” her if he has to.

The drunken actor, Charlie Waterman, arrives at the restaurant where the couple’s supposed engagement party is taking place. He asks what they have been doing. Laurel says that first there was the ring buying. Then came the clothes shopping for their honeymoon, and then even house hunting. Dix is feverish about sealing the deal, probably subconsciously worried that Laurel will revert to her tendency to be a “quitter,” as he called her early on. Charlie notes that Laurel has been picking the polish from her nails, revealing her anxiety. A worried look crosses Dix’s face as he says that she has been acting strangely. Fran Randolph, the actress, whose nose Dix supposedly broke, makes an appearance. Her presence and Dix’s past violence against her just adds to Laurel’s anxiety. Fran says she’s up for the part in his new movie. Dix becomes angry because he didn’t know about the submission of the script. Mel says he took it, but Laurel confesses she gave it to him. Dix blames Mel, and then suspects that the studio didn’t like it or else Mel would have said something. Mel says they did want Dix to do a faithful adaptation of the novel, which is not what Dix wrote. Dix starts to become agitated as he calls the book trash and Mel a thief for taking his screenplay. Laurel is told she has a call. She wants to leave the table, but Dix won’t let her, and tells her to take the call at the table. When she says for the caller to reach her at her home, his distrust is in full gear now, saying that she is hiding the phone conversation from him. He is, of course, correct about the nature of the phone call, but does not understand that he is to blame for Laurel not trusting him. When the phone arrives at the table, he grabs it. It’s Martha, and Dix asks sarcastically if she is phoning for Mr. Baker, to whom Laurel was previously engaged. Dix is in a jealous rage now. When Mel tries to take the phone away for Laurel, Dix hits Mel.

Dix then knocks the phone off of the table. As he gets up, Lloyd Barnes, the director, arrives and says that the studio loved Dix’s script. Dix goes into the bathroom to see how Mel is, now showing concern for any injury he inflicted, and experiencing the guilt which followed what happened to Mildred and Mason. Dix tells him that the movie executive liked the screenplay. Dix asks if Mel wants him to get another agent, but Mel says he needs the business, and shakes his hand. But Dix finds out that Laurel left. Dix goes to look for her and misses the call from Brub who wants to tell Dix that Kesler, the boyfriend, confessed to the killing of Mildred. Despite Kesler’s benign appearance, he is another male who, too, could not contain his violent tendencies toward women.

Dix wants Laurel to let him into her apartment. She is packing and says that she was sleeping because she had a headache. She puts on a dressing gown to pretend she was in bed. He tells her as he knocks, “don’t make me ask you again” to let him in. There seems to be a threat behind many of his actions. At first he says he’s sorry about grabbing the telephone and hitting Mel. But, his ugly side reappears when she isn’t wearing the engagement ring, demanding, “You should never take it off your finger.” He orders her to put it on. She locked the bedroom door, and he wonders who’s in there. She lies, saying it’s a mess because she was packing for the honeymoon. She goes to get the ring. She left a goodbye letter for him, and she grabs it now to hide it. He is shaking and grills her about whether she was packing or sleeping when he arrived. He then accuses her of leaving him like she left Baker, stealthily running away. He is volatile, but right in his suspicions, and she has been deceptive, and strung him along, but out of fear for what he might do. He answers her call from the airline. He grabs her and starts to choke her saying he’ll never let her go. But, the phone rings, breaking off his attack. It’s Brub and Lochner, who want to apologize, saying, ironically, that Dix is cleared of all wrongdoing, when he almost strangled somebody else. Dix walks away and Laurel paraphrases Dix’s lines form his script: “I lived a few weeks while you loved me. Goodbye Dix.”

Laurel was the only one who had a shot at saving Dix, to help him deal with his demons. So any chance at the redemption he could have achieved is lost. At the end he makes a solo exit, into a lonely place, both physically and mentally, unable to experience love’s healing powers.

The next film is The Pianist.