I wish a friend of mine were here with me in my study as I am writing this column. About two weeks ago, he told me about his experience trying to get his teenage sons interested in great films. He claimed that whenever he recommended a film, the first question they asked would be, “How old is this film?” The second question would be, “Is it in color?”
He found that if he could persuade them to take a chance and at least watch the film’s beginning, and if the beginning of the film was well written, his sons were hooked. My friend spoke to me about how important it is that a film’s first few scenes are well-written. My friend expressed his view eloquently, and I hope to discuss it with him the next time we meet.
Just by chance, the conversation with my friend took place around the time in my course on film at St. John’s University that I was about to show my students the 1941 thriller “Double Indemnity,” which starred Fred MacMurray, Barbara Stanwyck, and Edward G. Robinson. When I created the course a few years ago, I chose “Double Indemnity as one of the films the students had to view because of its extraordinary dialogue. I think it has exceptionally well-written dialogue and a first-class Hollywood director in Billy Wilder.
Before “Double Indemnity,” MacMurray was mostly involved in light romantic comedies. Edward G. Robinson, who was a star at that time, was not happy about getting third billing. Barbara Stanwyck did not want to play a femme fatale because she thought it might hurt her career. Wilder asked her, “What are you, an actress or a mouse?” That removed Stanwyck’s hesitancy, and she received an Academy Award nomination for her performance.
What interested me most about screening the film was its relation to my friend’s comments about how the opening scenes of a film are crucial to winning viewers’ attention. (Spoiler Alert: The next few paragraphs will reveal the answers to the mystery in the film.)
“Double Indemnity” opens with Fred MacMurray driving recklessly in the middle of the night to his office at the All Risk Insurance Company. He settles into his desk chair, takes out a dictograph, and sends a message to his co-worker and friend, Keyes (Robinson).
The message he is sending begins with the following comment. “Keyes, I want to straighten you out on the Diedrickson case. You were right in claiming that Diedrickson had been murdered, but you could not figure out who had killed him. I’ll tell you who killed him. I did. I did it for money, and I did it for a woman. I didn’t get the money, and I didn’t get the woman.”
The stage has been set. In the classroom, you could hear a pin drop. The students’ attention had been captured. MacMurray’s opening statement has told us the entire film. What follows is a 90-minute flashback showing in detail what led up to Macmurray’s statement on the dictograph. What is amazing is that even though we have been told what happened leading up to MacMuray’s confession, the movie is very suspenseful. Even though we know what is going to happen, we find ourselves totally engrossed in watching it happen, as though we do not know the outcome of the film.
I am going to call my friend and offer “Double Indemnity” as an excellent example of his claims that the way that an opening scene is written is crucial to the beauty of a film. Great writing is beautiful, and it can significantly contribute to our appreciation of beauty.
Reflecting on “Double Indemnity” and other great films, I think of how much the thought of Pierre Teilhard de Chardin has influenced my view of reality. In Teilhard’s view, anything good, true, and beautiful moves us more deeply into the cosmic movement toward Christ. Even a murder mystery? Yes, even a murder mystery reveals to us something about the mystery of person. Something about the mystery of each of us and the mystery of reality.
Teilhard offers us the type of vision of our involvement in Christ’s redemptive activity in which all that is good, true, and beautiful can play a role. Nothing that Teilhard wrote was published before his death.
I believe the experience of Vatican II contributed to the rediscovery of how deep Teilhard’s view of the human person is and the redemptive action of Christ. I can still recall how excited I was when I first read Teilhard’s “The Divine Milieu,” a book I recommend to all readers of this column.
Father Lauder is a philosophy professor at St. John’s University, Jamaica. His new book, “The Cosmic Love Story: God and Us,” is available on Amazon.com and at Barnes & Noble.
