Clash By Night, 1952. Directed by Fritz Lang, written by Alfred Hayes (from the play by Clifford Odets). Starring Barbara Stanwyck, Paul Douglas, Robert Ryan, Marilyn Monroe, J. Carrol Naish, Keith Andes, and Silvio Minciotti.
Available on DVD locally at Cinema Revolution.
San Xavier, location unknown. Probably it’s California, but it could be Washington, Oregon. A fishing town where the guys get up too early to snag fish and the girls stay on shore gutting the same and stuffing its rancid meat into cans. Afterwards they fight and drink and make love and maybe, just maybe, a drop of kindness squeaks out somewhere. Usually not.
Clash By Night is a simple story, a love triangle, as blue-collar as it gets. At once a naturalistic film about first-generation American fishermen (ideally Italian and Irish, though none of them appear as such), it is really about what happens to people when they’re down and out and when love–or a lack of the stuff–warps them. And it warps them good.
The facts: Enter Mae (Barbara Stanwyck). Back after ten years of chasing wealthy men around, with only a suitcase and a headache to show for it. She walks into the town of San Xavier and back to her brother’s home. This brother, Joe Doyle (played by TV stalwart and forgettable actor Keith Andres) isn’t happy. He’s a tough who just wants to fish and smack his girlfriend, Peggy (Monroe), around. Of course, Peggy’s often the one belting him across the chops, and can understand Mae’s urge to get out of this dump.
Now enter Jerry, a big lunk with a heart of gold. He owns a fishing boat, lives with his father and his uncle, the latter of the two being probably the biggest asshole I’ve seen in a movie in a long time. Perhaps Fritz Lang thought it’d be beneficial if one of the audience had an urge to throttle someone themselves. Anyway, Jerry’s a nice guy who falls hard for Mae.
Enter Earl (the great Robert Ryan). He’s something else. His wife is a burlesque dancer, on the road and spending his dough, ignoring him while she struts and sleeps her way across the country. In typical Odets fashion, Earl says he wants to “stick pins in her and see if she bleeds.” He likes Mae, and from the start it’s obvious that Mae likes him. After some awkward courtship, Jerry finally marries Mae, but not before the slimy Earl tries to get his meathooks into her.
The film is truly about men and women clashing in the night, fighting and screwing, barking at one another and cornering each other in the cramped bars and kitchens of this backwater fishing town. And it’s beautiful. Beautiful because Fritz Lang knew enough to invest in his people, to cast wonderful actors who make every moment come alive. Paul Douglas is simply riveting as the shmuck who can’t grasp that his wife is wrong for him, and when he turns into a beast it’s as real the blasts of hot air bellowing from his nostrils. There are touching moments–the father, played by Silvio Minciotti (where the hell did this actor come from?), going from irritable and lonely to quiet and pensive as he plays his accordion in the shadows to his new granddaughter.
And then there’s Stanwyck and Ryan. Two of the most pathetic creatures you’ll ever see mess up a good thing. When they’re together the lines just sizzle, exchanges like:
“You’re the type of guy who needs a new suit of clothes or a new love affair. But he doesn’t know which…”
or this one,
“You can’t make me any smaller. I’m preshrunk.”
All this under a full moon, drunk, cigarettes poking out of their mouths. But every actor resonates, they exist even when they’re not in the scene, so when we see Stanwyck and Ryan, we know that Paul Douglas is lurking in town, hurt, angry. And when he’s alone, we know his wife and her lover are out amusing themselves, and we want them to succeed, and hating ourselves for thinking such a thing.
Clash By Night has its dull spots, most notably in the scenes with Marilyn Monroe and Keith Andes. It’s a bit long in the tooth. But it’s also a film they don’t make anymore–searing melodrama, shot through with noir-style camera angles, and filled with actors who seem to have shot up with hate and bile before the director yelled “action!” There are love stories today, weak, spineless things that don’t understand that everyone who loves also hates… at times with equal passion. This one doesn’t forget.
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