The Maltese Falcon, in 1941, constructed a dark, amoral universe that would become the home of the noir hero, eventually defining an entire movement. Film noir is a mindset, a total package that consists of plot, theme, characters, and mise-en-scene working together to encompass an overriding sensation of darkness and amorality. Though critics tend to define the end of film noir with Orson Welles’ 1958 thriller, Touch of Evil, the movement’s presence is still with us today in neo-noir movies such as Curtis Hanson’s L. A. Confidential.

Film noir usually has a central hero, typically an amoral detective with a strong sense of duty for his client. L. A. Confidential does not have a central character; rather the role is divided amongst three characters, Bud White (Russell Crowe), Jack Vincennes (Kevin Spacey), and Edmund Exley (Guy Pearce). The movie begins by showing each of the three characters in their respective environments, White is saving abused women, Vincennes is at a Hollywood party, and Exley is at L. A. Police headquarters. Each character represents a different facet of the typical noir hero and their equal time introductions mirror their equal importance to the movie. If you combined White’s strong-armed tactics, Exley’s calculating detective mind, and Vincennes’ Hollywood, do-anything-for-money approach to the job, you would have the foundations for a single noir hero. However, behavior isn’t the only deciding factor in making the noir hero, beliefs and morality also need to be considered.
White, Exley, and Vincennes each have a complex code of morality constructed from past experiences; none of the three are entirely good. White makes his decisions, even if they are heavy-handed, because of his childhood memories of domestic abuse. Exley makes his decisions both because of his desire to live up to his legendary dad’s reputation and because of his desire to catch Rollo Tomasi, or the guy who gets away with his father’s murder. Finally, Vincennes makes his decisions out of a lust for fame and money. While each character’s motivation differs, they all make their decisions with an underlying loyalty to the department and sense of justice. White and the corrupt police captain, Dudley Smith, see justice as putting someone away for a crime, regardless of whether or not their guilt is certain. This persuasion of justice initially clashes with the by-the-books view of Exley, but, by the movie’s conclusion, Exley has resolved to come around to White and Smith’s way of thinking. At the beginning of the movie, when the bloody Christmas fight ensues at the police station, Exley yells, you’re all going in my report, showing his gumshoe adherence to police doctrine. Then about mid-way through the movie, after being exposed to the obvious corruption of the police force at length, Exley begins to become jaded and says to Vincennes, its supposed to be about justice, but somewhere along the way that was lost. Finally, at the movie’s conclusion, Exley has come to terms with the nihilistic, amoral reality of L. A. police life. Exley says to White, [the department is] using me, so for a little while, I’m using them. Exley ultimately decides it is impossible to be the good cop. White, Exley, and Vincennes with their high sense of professionalism, duty to the department, sense of justice, and often-amoral activities, make up the many aspects of the noir hero.
Kim Basinger’s character, Lynn Bracken, embodies the many aspects of the femme fatale of classic film noir. Bracken wields her sexual power over both Exley and White. Interestingly, Bracken is a prostitute that looks like Veronica Lake, a 1940s sex symbol who often played the role of the promiscuous and seductive femme fatale in noir films (also of note, during Vincennes’ introductory scene, an admiring lady friend calls Vincennes the real thing, not a fake cop like Robert Mitchum. Robert Mitchum was a common film noir hero [a few films include Crossfire, The Locket, and Out of the Past]). Through the course of L. A. Confidential, we see Bracken transform from the typical, dangerous femme fatale into a softer more caring individual and this transformation is heightened through Hanson’s use of mise-en-scene. When Bracken is introduced, she is in a long, black, hooded jacket and buying liquor, showing her to be a mysterious and seemingly dangerous woman. As the movie progresses, however, Bracken is shown in white outfits and in white environments, emphasizing her seeming innocence. When Vincennes and Exley spy on Bracken, she is repeatedly shown either framed in the front doorway or moving from one room into another inside her house, signs of transition. Finally, as the movie approaches its conclusion, we see Bracken’s warm, yellow bedroom, complete with a pillow from Arizona, and we see Bracken wearing a yellow dress. Bracken is no longer the black mysterious vixen or the white, innocent prostitute; she is a tender, warm, and loving girlfriend to Bud White.
L. A. Confidential’s mise-en-scene is dominated by darkness and isolation. The introduction of the initial characters, nearly every arrest, the murders, and the climactic ending of the film all take place at night. Each of the main characters works independent of the others and Hanson chooses to introduce them individually to emphasize their isolationism. The narration at the beginning of the film by Danny DeVito’s character, Sid Hudgens, romanticizes Los Angeles as a paradise. This narration plays over pictures of L.A. postcards and videos of quintessential American life. Los Angeles’ potent dramatic presence is evident from the very first shot. The Victory Motel represents the dark, corrupt side of the L.A, police force; thus, Hanson shows it as a dilapidated building, falling apart at the seams, surrounded by oil wells (mechanistic reminders of the never-ending, filthy underbelly of the L.A. police department). During the showdown at the movie’s conclusion, White and Exley stand in the Victory Motel parking lot as the car lights from over the horizon silhouette the oil wells’ movement on the ridge. This one scene encapsulates virtually all of L. A. Confidential’s noir mise-en-scene elements; there is night for night lighting, a heightened light against dark contrast (silhouetted oil rigs), the approaching car lights signal impending chaos and violence, and there is an overriding sensation of isolation and alienation (the tiny frames of White and Exley from the overhead crane shot with the lone, hardworking oil wells pumping in the distance [White and Exley are being hunted by their own police force]).
Sid Hudgens’ opening narration concludes on the ominous note that there is Trouble in Paradise. Hudgens explains the recent arrest of Mickey Cohen, a local organized crime boss, and the vacuum that such an arrest has created in the organized crime community. L. A. Confidential’s antagonist, Los Angeles Police captain, Dudley Smith, eventually steps in to fill that void by bribing officials and killing men that could be a possible hindrance to his acquiescence of power. Smith proves to be as morally complex as White or Exley, at some points he ruthlessly seeks justice and at others he murders individuals in cold blood because they knew too much (as was the case with Dick Stensland). L. A. Confidential’s plot is driven by organized crime and police corruption. There is a sense of meaninglessness and pointlessness surrounding overcoming this police corruption as evidenced at the movie’s conclusion. Exley resolves to use the corrupt officials and White moves away, the corruption can never be overcome; you have to learn to work within the system.
The dark plot of corruption, the amoral protagonists that make up their own view of right and wrong, the sultry femme fatale with her sexual power, the dark and isolated mise-en-scene, and the romanticized yet seedy underbelly of Los Angeles as the backdrop of the action, all of these elements combine to form an overriding sensation of darkness and amorality, the feel of a film noir. The L. A. Confidential movie poster advertises that Everything is suspect, everyone is for sale, and nothing is what it seems, the quintessence of film noir. Though the noir period officially ended in 1958, its presence is still very much with us today in films like L. A. Confidential.

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