The Black Dahlia

by Ari

The Black Dahlia marks the second noir-inspired, investigative period-thriller in two weeks (following the forgettable Hollywoodland), but with a far more distinguished talent at the helm and an even more intriguing premise at its core. And yet, despite being directed by one of cinema’s foremost visual stylists, The Black Dahlia amounts to a whole lot of nothing, an exercise in pretty images and period decor that never reaches the mystery, horror, or drama of the real-life incident that inspired the story. Perhaps this is because the infamously grisly and unsolved 1947 murder of aspiring actress Elizabeth Short is reduced to a center-piece detail of a much larger and convoluted plot involving too many characters, twists, and conventions for its own good. Like Hollywoodland, The Black Dahlia has no real insight into its mystery, only speculation and fiction that desperately ties the characters together in acts of sheer absurdity. This is yet another messy screenplay that segues into many different directions, some intriguing, some excessive, some outrageous, all eventually reverting back into each other to appear important, surprising, and sensible. The only reason anything approaches entertainment is because Brian De Palma can direct the most ludicrous of situations and make them seem relatively smooth, cinematic, and compelling. His bravura is what we respond to in The Black Dahlia, and it’s certainly on display at specific moments, whether through his beautiful camera-work or tense editing. The Black Dahlia is an undeniably lavish production filled with many signature De Palma touches - meaning that your overall enjoyment is dependent on how appealing you find his stylistic tendencies.

De Palma has stated that the story is less about the actual investigation and more about how the case infects the characters involved, turning them towards immoral activity and decadence. The idea that this film delves into hidden facts and secrets of Short’s murder is deceiving. The murder (as everyone knows) is still unsolved, so author James Ellroy concocted a fictitious thriller surrounding her perplexing and brutal death. I haven’t read the novel, so I can’t say whether Josh Friedman successfully adapted the book or not. I can only comment on what I saw on-screen, and that was a muddled, confused period-thriller that often becomes self-parody with its extravagancies. The over-the-top sensibilities (which occur in just about every sequence) hinder the dramatic possibilities of the characters and story, leaving little to no room for suspense, complexity, or realism. The Black Dahlia is nothing but a more elegant and adult version of Sin City, a hollow fantasy of mood and style. The potential is there, especially since the cast is surprisingly effective with only mildly interesting roles. If Friedman added a greater sense of character complexity - something to reach the audience and make you invest in their lives, then De Palma would have something special. Style can engage for only so long, and after The Black Dahlia’s highly entertaining first act concludes, the tedium sets in.

Dwight "Bucky" Bleichert (Josh Hartnett) is an ex-boxer who gets enrolled in the police department alongside his other boxing acquaintance, Leland "Lee" Blanchard (Aaron Eckhart). They become partners, a dynamic duo that enjoys the rush of the job and the success that ensues. The first act is an introduction to late 1940’s Los Angeles, and De Palma immediately engrosses you with the many fascinating details of the time and his and Dante Ferriti’s masterful recreation of the period. Caught between Lee and Bucky is the beautiful Kay Lake (Scarlett Johansson), who lives with Lee, flirts with Bucky, and has a dangerous past with a brutal criminal that becomes one of the film’s semi-interesting, but unnecessary subplots. The world of Los Angeles is the story for the first thirty to forty minutes, with Hartnett’s constant, conventional voice-over providing all the exposition to follow the images. It’s entertaining up to a point, which interestingly enough is when the Black Dahlia murder is introduced.

Once the mutilated victim is found, the plot splits into several different parts, with Bucky investigating and eventually uncovering twists and turns that somehow manage to include every single character, no matter how far-fetched it seems. Along the way he gets romantically entangled with one of his suspects, the sexy and mysterious Madeleine Linscott (Hilary Swank), who’s wealthy family may or may not have something to do with Short’s murder. Following each new twist becomes tiring after a while, but De Palma uses his directorial skill to create a rousing finish despite the screenplay's emotional shortcomings. Hartnett and Eckhart are particularly good, doing their best to liven their tame, uninspired material. Hartnett comes across as a new Dana Andrews, a stoic, occasionally edgy presence that fits into the noir universe with ease. It will be interesting to see how he handles a character with more depth in the future. Hartnett is a capable actor, so it’s unfortunate that his role of Bucky limits any chance of emotional range.

The cinematography by Vilmos Zsigmond is beautiful. The visual aspects of The Black Dahlia are easily its most attractive features, and De Palma and Zsigmond create some wonderful set-pieces and imagery. The tracking shots are masterfully choreographed, the first-person perspectives are highly entertaining, and the use of slow-motion is as assured and stylish as De Palma has presented. The film takes you on a journey through 40’s LA, from seedy back-alleys to motels to nightclubs to upper-class mansions, creating an old-fashioned Hollywood studio-system theatricality. At least De Palma knows how to make the film look like a noir. And that about best describes the experience of the Black Dahlia: Pretty, but empty.