DETOUR (1945)

Director: Edgar G. Ulmer

Writer: Martin Goldsmith (and uncredited Martin Mooney) adapting Martin Goldsmith’s 1939 novel Detour: An Extraordinary Tale

Producer: Leon Fromkess

Cast: Tom Neal, Ann Savage, Claudia Drake, Edmund MacDonald, Pat Gleason, Tim Ryan, Esther Howard, (and uncredited cast) Eddy Hall, Don Brodie, Harry Strang, Roger Clark, Harry Mayo

Piano player Al Roberts (Tom Neal) is hitchhiking from New York City to Los Angeles, California to reunite with his vocalist girlfriend, Sue Harvey (Claudia Drake). In Arizona, Al gets a lift from gambler Charles Haskell (Edmund MacDonald). Due to a chronic health issue, Haskell literally drops dead. The panicked and destitute Al appropriates Haskell’s wallet, money, and vehicle to continue his journey. When Al stops at a gas station, he offers a lift to a young woman hitchhiker named Vera (Ann Savage). Vera soon confronts Al about his ownership of the car he is driving. She recognizes the vehicle because she had been traveling with Haskell and recently abandoned him. Vera immediately sizes up Al as someone in a jam whom she can control.

The Flashback Fanatic movie review

Director Edgar G. Ulmer was a European immigrant in America who made some Hollywood films that seemed to be ahead of their time. Ulmer strove for mainstream success while imposing edgy themes and atmosphere into his genre films. The two films Ulmer is now most revered for are 1934’s horror classic The Black Cat, made at Universal Pictures, and 1945’s film noir classic Detour, made at PRC (Producers Releasing Corporation). While the former film was made on a modest budget at a major studio, the latter was made for the smallest outfit on Hollywood’s "poverty row." Both movies were very profitable and have become cult films. At either end of the production scale, Ulmer could create personal and distinctive films that probably have more fans today than many of his big-budget contemporaries’ efforts.

Detour is an apt title for this utterly bleak tale. The film detours the hopes of its characters and the expectations of its audience toward dead ends. Its only true film noir trope is a femme fatale who is certainly a bad influence, but her control is not sexual. Al Roberts is put off by Vera’s manner almost immediately; she simply dominates him with coercion. Another subversion of genre expectations is that the grandest scheme that Vera aspires to is never carried out. Al finally shows some commonsense backbone when he refuses to attempt the very risky scam that the reckless Vera insists they can profit from. Nothing in this film leads to grandiose narrative payoffs, which mires it in dismal reality instead of dramatic extravagance.

Film noir is a genre always stressing murky morality in its characters and the temptations that can lead them to ruin. Within the genre, Detour is remarkable in its simplicity as it dispenses with many film noir trappings. There are no mysteries to solve or complex criminal schemes perpetrated. The “crime” that starts the tension is Al Roberts neglecting to report the death of Charles Haskell, the man he was hitchhiking with. Haskell may have already been dead when he seemed to fall asleep in the car, yet Haskell fell out of the car and hit his head because Al opened the car door. Both Al and the audience can’t be sure if he accidentally killed Haskell. Al fears that the authorities will think he intentionally committed murder. Since Haskell was shown to be a generous and friendly guy with a very shady past, Al may feel guilty while still able to justify his acquisition of the dead man’s money and automobile. The destitute Al still seems like a decent guy who is just doing what it takes to reunite with his girl.

Al Roberts is certainly Tom Neal’s most famous role. Neal plays our hapless hero who is just not decisive enough when he needs to be. If he had accompanied his girlfriend on her move to Los Angeles, all his ensuing problems could have been avoided. Instead, he reacts to Sue’s decision to leave New York to pursue her singing career as if it’s a rejection. Then, when he acts impulsively to follow her by hitchhiking, he heads into big trouble. To his credit, Al remains dedicated to his gal and his goal of reuniting with her. But his good intentions don’t keep his life from going to hell in a handbasket due to bad luck and bad reactions.

The entire film is shown from Al Roberts’ viewpoint. Director Ulmer graces us with some stylistic flourishes to depict Al’s forlorn and desperate frame of mind. The film’s low budget may have dictated some production short cuts, yet Ulmer turns that limitation into an advantage. A New York City nighttime stroll for Al and his gal, Sue Harvey, is suggested by a set with a few streets signs and dense fog that obscures everything else. When Al imagines the success his vocalist girlfriend will be having in Los Angeles, we only see her singing in front of the shadows of the playing musicians cast on the blank backdrop behind her. In the cramped and lonely diner, Ulmer’s surreally lit closeups of Al fill the screen with stress and sorrow. Ulmer goes to the trouble to have Al’s coffee cup represented by a giant prop in the foreground of one shot in the diner, as if to show how desperate this distraught loner is to find some small solace in the brew. Ulmer’s film stresses the isolation of Al Roberts and his single-minded focus on the love of his life.

While director Ulmer deserves kudos for lavishing style on this uncompromisingly bleak and rudimentary story, Ann Savage steals the show as she costars with Tom Neal for the fourth time. I find more to admire about Savage’s performance every time I watch this film. Her Vera is a hard-boiled harpy who can run right over Al Roberts with her motormouth and quick thinking. It’s practically a jump scare the first time Vera glares at Al with her amazing eyes. As fearsome and crazy as she seems keeping Al under her thumb, she also seems a bit pathetic. Vera’s suggested health problem provides the impetus for her volatility and impatience. While Vera has obviously fallen on hard times and is relying on her opportunistic aggression, there are a couple of fleeting moments when she may be reaching out for a bit of affection from the unresponsive Al. Then Vera reverts right back to her combative and coercive posture. It is a riveting performance that makes me feel a bit of compassion for someone so intimidating. Although we learn very little about her, Ann Savage’s Vera is a fascinating character.

In films we usually want things to happen for a reason. We expect plots driven by the deliberate goals of the characters that lead to satisfying climaxes. Detour has no such direction as it steers us toward arbitrary tragedy. Although Al’s fatalistic narration keeps reminding us about how fate can screw us over, all his tragedy results from his bad decision. However, that bad decision is one that, if we are honest with ourselves, we also might have made if we were in Al’s sorry situation. Desperate circumstances can cloud judgement and morality, even in decent people. Without a lot of wild plot points and climaxes to distract us, we are left to ponder how even a bad decision made without malice can still lead to disaster. In a dire situation, many of us may take a handy detour to a dead end.