If there's one
thing that's always bugged me about Double
Indemnity, at least in retrospect several years after I last saw
it, it was the sense that everything about it was a bit too calculated
and the script so sharp that the plot and actor's have no room to
believe. Seeing once again, I was struck by how this utter
precision - evident in everything from the cinematography which casts
shadows and light in geometric shapes and patterns to the dialogue and
performances as carefully mannered and crafted as a sculpture - is
crucial in developing the film's sense of inevitabilty, giving it the
feeling of a funereal march. Every piece of dialogue and movement
of the camera and actors is designed to mirror Walter's obsessive
attention to the minutest details of the plan. Yet with every
move, as carefully and thoroughly thought through, Neff moves another
step closer to his own demise, a fate put in action from his very first
glimpse at Mrs. Dietrichson's anklet. Underlying this fate is the
dissociation between the perfect plan he hatches in his mind and the
real world where it must unfold, most importantly the fact that he must
trust Phyllis as well as keep his boss, Keyes, at bay. This
perfect dichotomy between a plan of technical perfection and an
imperfect world where such a plan cannot escape the grasp of
predestined downfall is what makes the film, at least in some ways, the
quintessential film noir. Wilder and Chandler's screenplay is not
simply flaunting its muscles, but creating a vision of haunting despair
where Neff, even in carefully sidestepping the traps as they come (the
husband at first not taking the train, the stranger from the train
coming to the office and Keyes initial hunch that another man helped
Phyllis plan the murder), cannot escape the linear death drive once its
set in motion. As Phyllis reminds him later in the film, "It's
straight down the line for both of us. Remember?"
Neff, played with
equal parts caustic wit and utter desperation by the straight-faced
Fred MacMurray, is also the perfect blank slate upon which the drama
plays out. He is a loner with no attachments aside from his job
and, even in that, he refuses to settle down to a desk job, preferring
to roam the streets, peddling insurance to strangers. In his
first iconic exchange with Phyllis, he mentions that he's learned a lot
about the world while doing his job and we get the feeling he didn't
like what he saw. His attraction to Phyllis is at first purely
sexual as he first glimpses her half-dressed as she comes in from
sunbathing, but it is not in his nature to seek permanence in any form,
so it's difficult to believe that he ever thought or even wanted their
plan to work out despite the obvious care put into it. While Neff
is ultimately shown to be a means to an end for Phyllis, the same could
be said the other way around. Neff is by nature a drifter - sure,
a drifter with a job and the respect of his boss, but still a man with
seemingly no desire to conform to the standards of society, at least in
the form of settling down with a wife or a job behind a desk. As
an outsider with no real desire to become an "insider", it appears to
me as if Neff's sexual attraction, while at first tittilating,
ultimately triggers a self-destructive psychosis. He admits early
in the film that Keyes would sniff out a scheme like theirs in no time,
yet he follows through with it for the temporary pleasure of having
Phyllis.
Phyllis
herself is certainly a prototypical femme fatale, but as much as she
pushes Neff into the situation, he lays the groundwork and executes it
while remaining aware that their is little chance of its success.
His impermanent nature again rears its head twice more later in the
film, the first time when he wants Phyllis to keep her distance as
Keyes closes in and later when he's instantly willing to let her hang
for the crime when he knows Keyes is going to pin it on Phyllis and her
secret lover, Nino Zachetti. Both instances suggest that Neff is
far from obsessed from getting the happy ending that Phyllis constantly
reminds him of while his final actions, turning Nino away from the
house and confessing to the crime before Keyes shows up, ultimately
convey his true desire simply to be left alone to die. The final
image isn't haunting so much in its reversal of roles in the lighting
of the match, as in the notion that Neff is left to die with the only
person who actually cared for him looking at him as if he doesn't
exist. And in some ways, that's what Neff was after all along.