REVIEWS THE DEFINITIVES READER’S CHOICE PATREON

Search …

THE DEFINITIVES
Critical essays, histories, and appreciations of great films

Laura
Essay by Brian Eggert | November 13, 2021

Director: Otto Preminger
Cast: Gene Tierney, Dana Andrews, Clifton Webb, Vincent Price, Judith Anderson

Rated: Unrated

Runtime: 88 min.

Release Date: 10/11/1944

Laura opens on a portrait of Gene Tierney, an actress Darryl F. Zanuck called, “The most
beautiful woman in film history.” Tierney’s tragically short career was often judged by her
appearance and privileged early life. Introduced as a debutante by her well-heeled Connecticut
family, Tierney earned headlines for her romances with mogul Howard Hughes, future president
John F. Kennedy, and Prince Aly Khan. She was seen as glamorous and serene to a fault,
leading to occasional negative reviews of her mannered performances. Her character in the
1944 film, too, is lauded like a goddess by almost every character. “Her youth and beauty, her
poise and charm of manner captivated them all,” extols one of Laura Hunt’s admirers. “She had
warmth, vitality. She had authentic magnetism. Wherever we went, she stood out. Men admired
her. Women envied her.” Such infatuation grows into an obsession with the idea of Laura more
than the person behind her appearance, leading to her violent murder before the film opens.
And while Tierney did not suffer that grim fate in life, her role and off-screen life share a similar
downswing. Both Laura and the actor performing her were shaped according to a fantasy
image, causing immeasurable damage in both the film and Tierney’s life. 

Often cited as an essential film noir, Laura begins with an atmosphere of murder and nostalgia.
Newspaper columnist Waldo Lydecker (Clifton Webb) recalls, “I shall never forget the weekend
Laura died.” He receives a visit from Det. Mark McPherson (Dana Andrews), a simple, gum-
chewing detective who occupies his mind with a child’s baseball diamond pocket game.
Lydecker tells McPherson about Laura in voiceover and flashbacks, proclaiming he was “the
 Lydecker tells McPherson about Laura in voiceover and flashbacks, proclaiming he was “the
only one who really knew her.” He explains how Laura received her start as an ambitious and
successful career woman in New York advertising, and how she was Galatea to his Pygmalion;
he helped raise her up from humble beginnings into the life of a sophisticate. And Lydecker
expresses a sense of pride and ownership over his creation. But Laura was killed, shot in the
face in her apartment with two rounds of buckshot by an unknown assailant. McPherson heads
out to interview Laura’s friends, and quite implausibly, Lydecker joins him to observe. There is
Shelby Carpenter (Vincent Price), her weaselly fiancé who lies about everything and, when
caught, quickly admits his deception. There is Bessie (Dorothy Adams), Laura’s worshipful
housekeeper. And there is Laura’s wealthy aunt, Ann Treadwell (Judith Anderson), who loves
Carpenter and wants him for herself. Everyone’s a suspect.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to use the site you

are agreeing to our use of cookies.

OK Privacy Policy

During his investigation, McPherson spends his nights in Laura’s apartment, reading her diary,
thumbing through her letters, sniffing her perfume, drinking her booze, and falling in love with
her portrait, which she has vainly hung over the fireplace—a flourish suggested by Lydecker no
doubt. After peeking in her underwear drawer, McPherson looks at himself in the mirror with
shame, but not so much that he removes himself from the case. He is compromised and he
knows it, but he continues anyway. The twist comes when Laura, who has not been murdered,
arrives home and finds McPherson passed out in her apartment. The real victim, a model
named Diane Redfern from Laura’s agency, had been in her apartment with Carpenter. Once
McPherson sees that Laura is alive, she becomes the obvious suspect. Nevertheless, the other
suspects remain so devoted to Laura that they’re willing to cover up evidence to protect her
from suspicion, even if she’s actually innocent. Carpenter assumes Laura is guilty and takes
:
 from suspicion, even if she’s actually innocent. Carpenter assumes Laura is guilty and takes
steps to make her appear less so. McPherson wants to find the killer, of course, but he also
hopes to clear Laura’s name for selfish reasons. He has fallen in love with the idea of Laura,
which deepens once he sees her in the flesh. 

Laura’s screenplay doesn’t retain much from the source material. Author Vera Caspary’s story,
first serialized in Collier’s Weekly as Ring Twice for Laura, was published in book form in 1942.
After Twentieth Century-Fox acquired the screen rights, director-producer Otto Preminger
championed the adaptation, despite being on the outs with Fox’s production chief, Zanuck. The
two had clashed during the studio’s big-budget adaptation of Robert Louis Stevenson’s
Kidnapped from 1938, and Zanuck had removed Preminger from the picture, stalling the
director’s career in the process. But while Zanuck was away serving as a war photographer in
Europe, executive assistant William Goetz quietly maneuvered Preminger back into the studio
to develop Laura. A loose adaptation of the book, the screenplay was credited to Jay Dratler,
Samuel Hoffenstein, and Betty Reinhardt. The writers used Caspary’s gimmick of finding a dead
woman who gets mistaken as Laura, only to have Laura return as a prime suspect, but not
much else. Most of the characters and other details were reworked for the screen. Bryan Foy,
head of Fox’s “B” movie unit of programmers, led the production initially. But few besides
Preminger, Foy included, believed in the project. Caspary, too, felt her source material would be
underserved by a “B” grade film, while Foy and others complained about the script’s quality. But
Zanuck read the script and, according to Preminger, liked that it didn’t have a single scene
inside a police station. Since Foy wasn’t interested, Zanuck took the project and gave it an “A”
budget—an unlikely outcome given Zanuck and Preminger’s rocky past.  

Still, Zanuck refused at first to allow Preminger to direct the picture. He sent the script to his
studio’s other top-tier directors, many of whom passed, until Rouben Mamoulian, who had not
worked for years and needed the money, agreed to take on the project with Preminger serving
as a producer. But Mamoulian and Preminger disagreed about how Laura should be cast, shot,
and scored, and others seemed unimpressed with the material. Jennifer Jones and Hedy
Lamarr both turned down the leading role, leaving Laura to Gene Tierney, then 24, who had cut
her teeth on a few underwhelming roles for Fox. However, after the first few days of shooting,
Zanuck, Mamoulian, and Preminger were unsatisfied with the early footage. Preminger went to
Zanuck and received permission to fire Mamoulian and take over the production himself.
Approving Preminger’s takeover was a risky move on Zanuck’s part. Preminger had not yet
developed into the autocrat behind the camera that he would eventually become; his output to
this point consisted of a few “B” movies. And yet, after Laura, for which he would earn his first of
three Oscar nominations for Best Director, he became one of Fox’s most important and edgy
sources of film noir in the 1940s and 1950s. He followed it with Fallen Angel (1945), Whirlpool
(1950), and Angel Face (1953), among others. 
:
 In her 1979 autobiography, Self-Portrait, Tierney noted feeling unmoved by the part: “The time
on camera was less than one would like. And who wants to play a painting?” Perhaps she
resented playing a character who had no agency and whose image was obsessed over by
others. Ever since director Anatole Litvak first spotted the 17-year-old Tierney on the Warner
Bros. lot with her parents and ordered her a screen test, she was an object of desire. After that
moment, the Hollywood career she so desired would slowly destroy her. When she finally
signed a contract with Fox, they instructed her to start smoking to lower her voice. Years later,
she would die of emphysema from her smoking habit. In the meantime, the stress of preserving
her star image weighed on her. She was forced into a restrictive diet that she begrudgingly
followed for twenty years. She also had a family to support: an ailing mother; the wavering
fashion design business started by her husband, Oleg Cassini; and the trauma of her first child
—who was born deaf, with partial blindness and severe intellectual disabilities. In another tragic
irony of Tierney’s celebrity shaping her life, she later learned that her daughter’s conditions
resulted from the actress contracting the German Measles from an enthusiastic fan who left
quarantine to meet her. 

With pressures mounting in Tierney’s personal life, she needed roles like Laura Hunt, even if
she thought little of them. “Really, I was in no position to be picky,” she wrote. Even after her
career bloomed with roles in Leave Her to Heaven (1945), The Ghost and Mrs. Muir (1947), and
Night and the City (1950), she continued to struggle in Hollywood. By the age of 34, Tierney
was not only physically transformed by Hollywood but her mental state became increasingly
fragile. Stress, depression, an undiagnosed bipolar disorder, and guilt over her first daughter’s
institutionalization took their toll. She underwent psychotherapy and shock treatments. Between
institutionalizations, she considered suicide when she stepped out onto the ledge of her New
:
 York apartment before a crowd of onlookers, among them her second daughter. Eventually, she
retreated from the public eye to look after her mental health at a clinic in Topeka, Kansas, where
she was advised to take a sales position in a local shop to adjust to people again. She was
soon recognized and pestered by reporters while at work; the story made headlines, and
Tierney was forced to quit her job. By the early 1950s, her film roles became intermittent. Within
a few years, she retired from Hollywood and lived out her remaining decades with a quiet life in
Houston. 

Besides Tierney—who hadn’t revealed her full potential by 1944—Laura is full of unlikely
casting choices. There’s Dana Andrews, an unproven “B” actor with few credits; he would soon
become a film noir staple and make four more films with Preminger. Price is memorable as
Laura’s husband-to-be, a far slipperier character than the types of intimidating roles he would
take in Roger Corman and William Castle’s films. And while Judith Anderson’s role as Laura’s
wealthy aunt isn’t as iconic as her Mrs. Danvers from Rebecca (1940), she delivers a complex
character that this essay will touch on later. Then there is queer icon Clifton Webb, a Broadway
star who had not appeared in a film since 1930. Webb was championed by Preminger, despite
warnings to Zanuck that “he flies”—a reference to Webb’s sexuality. Noir scholar James
Naremore observed wryly that Laura bears a camp quality given these actors who invite “a
mood of fey theatricality.” But only in retrospect, when viewing Anderson’s closeted lesbian role
in Rebecca, Price’s bisexuality as an open secret in Hollywood, and Webb’s open
homosexuality, does Laura play as Naremore suggests. 

On the surface, Laura doesn’t offer outright queer characters or even readable subtexts.
Though, it’s easy to call Lydecker characteristic of classic Hollywood’s long line of effeminate
:
 Though, it’s easy to call Lydecker characteristic of classic Hollywood’s long line of effeminate
villains, such as Claude Rains in The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938) or Farley Granger
and John Dall in Rope (1948). Note the scene when Lydecker first meets McPherson. He sits in
the tub—not nude as some have noted but in trunks, and evoking Dalton Trumbo—and stands
before asking McPherson to hand him a robe. But it hardly feels like a come-on, as some have
suggested. Perhaps Lydecker intended the moment as a power grab, forcing McPherson to feel
intimidated by a naked (or mostly naked) man. Or maybe he’s trying to distract from his guilt.
“How singularly innocent I look this morning,” he reflects as only a guilty man would. “Have you
ever seen such candid eyes?” Then again, perhaps viewers have projected on Lydecker what
they know about Webb. As we will see later, Lydecker remains obsessed with Laura to such an
extent that it drives him to murder. His acidic, egomaniacal, and what some might call
stereotypically bitchy characterization gives Laura its sharp wit and darkly comic appeal, carried
by an egoist who believes “in my case, self-absorption is completely justified” and “I’m not kind.
I’m vicious. It’s the secret of my charm.” 

Visually, Preminger’s approach to Laura proves static and detached, especially when compared
to his later work. But this is purposeful. Using plan américain photography shot by
cinematographer Joseph LaShelle, Preminger captures characters in profile as they discuss
their motives and alibis. Rather than cutting a scene down in a two-shot structure, alternating
between McPherson’s question and the suspect’s answer, he allows us to observe them from
an objective vantage point and judge their behavior. In larger settings, Preminger employs whip
pans to transition from one character to the next, which allows for movement without telling the
viewer where to look or how to feel about the characters. As a result, Laura’s cinematography
sometimes feels impersonal, as though the visuals give the viewer no clear indication about
where our sympathy should lie. Moreover, much of the film’s action unfolds in well-lit interiors—
Laura’s apartment above all—far removed from the moody shadows and expressive camera
angles commonly found in film noir. Alternatively, David Raskin’s score accounts for much of
Laura’s noir flavor; it haunts the film like the idea of Laura haunts other characters. Written after
receiving a Dear John letter from his wife, the music became a best-selling standard recorded
by names like Nat King Cole, Charlie Parker, and Frank Sinatra. Raskin’s melancholy notes
build substance into the affections, memories, and obsessions that turn into murderous
impulses, tonally situating Laura into the film noir genre. 

While Laura is often lumped into this stylized genre because of certain plot elements and its
score, the film lacks many of the common characteristics associated with film noir. Perhaps if
Laura had murdered Diane Redfern out of jealousy or, say, pinned the murder on Lydecker or
Carpenter to escape their hold, then she would have been an archetypal femme fatale. As is,
she remains wrongly accused, if central to the motivations of other characters. But she is hardly
the duplicitous, seductive, and amoral woman often featured in film noirs. Further, McPherson
isn’t the shady cop found in so many genre offerings. As far as we can tell, he is a decent
detective with one central flaw: he allows himself to be emotionally invested in the case—a
:
 detective with one central flaw: he allows himself to be emotionally invested in the case—a
condition the story rewards when it hints that McPherson and Laura will end up together. If
McPherson’s fixation had been a punishable moral crime in the film’s eyes, or those of the
Production Code, there might have been another scene showing him reprimanded or Laura
turning him down romantically. Instead, we believe they will end up together because the film
believes his obsession is justified and his love is true. To be sure, there have been far more
corrupted noir protagonists who walk the line between hero and antihero. Take Preminger’s
Where the Sidewalk Ends (1950), where Andrews again plays a cop, but this time he goes to
prison for killing a suspect while questioning him. 

However, almost every character in Laura is capable of, shall we say, moral flexibility. Each of
them exists in varying shades of gray. There’s Ann Treadwell, Laura’s aunt, who offers honest
self-appraisal in her speech explaining why she and Carpenter belong together: “He’s no good
but he’s what I want. […] We belong together because we’re both weak and can’t seem to help
it. That’s why I know he’s capable of murder; he’s like me.” Each character is driven toward their
singular desire—which is usually Laura—except in Ann’s case. Even Bessie hides important
evidence because she worries that it might reflect poorly on Laura. Meanwhile, no one cares
about poor Miss Redfern—not even Carpenter, who, we must assume, was having an affair with
her. And while this general atmosphere of moral ambivalence makes Laura a film noir, the
climax’s plot mechanics help as well. Taking a cue from the Thin Man series, McPherson
gathers all suspects at a party and proceeds to make a show of identifying his prime suspect.
Outwardly, he pins the murder on Laura, but it’s a ruse to expose the real killer: Lydecker,
whose jealous brand of “If I can’t have you, no one will” logic has driven him to murder. 
:
 Though every character has their motivations, none is more obsessed than Lydecker, who cuts
Laura down in their first introduction and builds her up again in his image. “Laura had innate
breeding,” he explains to McPherson. “But she deferred to my judgment and taste. I selected a
more attractive hairdress for her. I taught her what clothes were more becoming to her. Through
me, she met everyone—the famous and the infamous.” Anticipating James Stewart’s Scottie in
Alfred Hitchcock’s Vertigo (1958), Lydecker demonstrates the textbook behaviors of a stalker or
controlling lover: he follows her, finds excuses to stroll past her apartment, showers her with
attention and gifts, but he also expects her to conform to his idea of her. Laura’s willingness to
bend to his vision feeds his ego, his only true love. Based in part on the famously snobby New
Yorker theater critic Alexander Woollcott, Lydecker’s colorfully violent language in the
screenplay (“If you come a little closer, my boy, I can crack your skull”) hints at his capacity for
murder. In the end, Lydecker’s spell over Laura is broken. The film’s last shot rests on the clock
Lydecker gave her, identical to one in his own apartment of course. Lydecker shatters it when
he shoots at Laura and misses, just as officers gun him down. The symbol of Lydecker’s hold
over Laura is destroyed. 

Tierney was subject to a similar brand of destructive obsession in her life and career, and one
wonders whether she made the connection between the character and herself. Critics, above all
in The New York Times, often wrote about Tierney in terms of her appearance and regularly
called out her surface beauty, privileged upbringing, and role as a debutante. A review of Bell
Star (1941), in which she plays the title role of an American outlaw, notes that “her youth and
fancy finishing school background betray her.” The review of Laura was just as unkind, stating
Tierney “simply doesn’t measure up to the word-portrait of her character. Pretty, indeed, but
hardly the type of girl we had expected to meet. For Miss Tierney plays at being a brilliant and
sophisticated advertising executive with the wild-eyed innocence of a college junior.” More
recent appraisals have acknowledged that Laura isn’t Tierney’s best performance. Roger Ebert
was right when he observed that Tierney “never seems emotionally involved” in her role. Then
again, perhaps Preminger intended Tierney to appear detached. Laura remains a character
whose identity is assumed and assigned by those who regard her or her portrait. She’s almost
as absent from the picture as the titular character from Hitchcock’s Rebecca, which charts the
lingering impact of a woman’s memory. 

Laura is a beautiful portrait, an image onto which, like Lydecker, Carpenter, and McPherson, the
viewer projects meaning. Preminger and Tierney create a character whose beauty, success,
and sophistication become surface traits that reduce Laura to a concept more than a flesh and
blood human being. But as Laura transitions from a film noir charting a murder investigation
during the first half, it centers us in the midst of a romantic mystery during the second half.
McPherson, thus the viewer, like the others, has fallen for the fantasized idea of Laura, even as
the character herself—her personality, her tastes, her sense of humor—remain elusive and
undefined. Sadly, then, Laura, a film about how fantasies build up, blur, and dehumanize one
woman, provides a lens through which we can understand Tierney’s life as a celebrity. Tierney
:
 woman, provides a lens through which we can understand Tierney’s life as a celebrity. Tierney
gave a more nuanced performance in Leave Her to Heaven and a more affecting turn in Night
and the City, but her presence haunts Laura well beyond the final shot. Onscreen, Tierney
plays an icon who entrances everyone around her, but the performer’s life off-camera lends the
role tragic insight that makes the film unforgettable. 

(Editor’s Note: This review was commissioned on Patreon. Thanks for your continued support,
Elizabeth!)

Become a patron

Bibliography:

Bogdanovich, Peter. Who the Devil Made It? Ballantine, 1997. 

Hirsch, Foster. Otto Preminger: The Man Who Would be King. Alfred A. Knopf, 2007. 

Janovich, Mark. “‘Vicious Womanhood’: Genre, the ‘Femme Fatale’ and Postwar America.”
Canadian Journal of Film Studies, vol. 20, no. 1, 2011, pp. 100–114. JSTOR,
www.jstor.org/stable/24411857. Accessed 1 May 2021.

McNamara, Eugene. “Laura” as Novel, Film, and Myth. Edwin Mellen Press, 1992.

Naremore, James. “American Film Noir: The History of an Idea.” Film Quarterly, vol. 49, no. 2,
1995, pp. 12–28. JSTOR, www.jstor.org/stable/1213310. Accessed 1 May 2021.

Tierney, Gene. Self-Portrait. Wyden Books, 1979. 

:
 ALSO ON DEEP FOCUS REVIEW

The Celebration (1998)

Drive My Car (2021) – – Deep Focus Review The Last Duel (2021) – Scream
Deep Focus Review … … Deep Focus Review … Focus

9 months ago 1 comment a year ago 3 comments a year ago 2 comments 9 months ago

Sponsored

15 000 € à placer ? Les EHPAD vous rapportent jusqu’à 6 %

Actu - Ehpad

Logement étudiant: investir en Espagne vous rapporte jusqu’à 10,75%

Actualités | Finance et Investissement Lire la suite

The Celebration (1998)

Drive My Car (2021) – – Deep Focus Review The Last Duel (2021) – Scream
Deep Focus Review … … Deep Focus Review … Focus
Apple désigne l'une des meilleures app de mémorisation au monde
A télécharger sur l'App Store | NeuroNation Installer

C'est officiel : Pompe à chaleur subventionnée à une seule condition : être

propriétaire
LesNewsEnFrance

Ces panneaux solaires hybrides sont subventionnés à une condition : être

propriétaire
:
 propriétaire
Solaire Pas Cher

Les propriétaires qui ont + de 21 000€ de crédit conso peuvent essayer ceci
Bons plans propriétaires Lire la suite
:
:
 2 Comments 
1 Login

Join the discussion…

LOG IN WITH
OR SIGN UP WITH DISQUS ?

Name

Sort by Best  ⥅

Anthony Baker − ⚑
7 months ago
Laura wasn't a Pygmalion, She was a Galatea.
△ ▽ Reply
Brian Eggert > Anthony Baker − ⚑
7 months ago
Correct - I will fix my reference.
△ ▽ Reply

✉ Subscribe & Privacy ⚠ Do Not Sell My Data

Sponsored

Investir dans un logement étudiant au Portugal vous rapporte jusqu’à 10,75%

Actualités | Finance et Investissement Lire la suite
:
 15 000 € à placer ? Les EHPAD vous rapportent jusqu’à 6 %
Actu - Ehpad

Ces panneaux solaires hybrides sont subventionnés à une condition : être

propriétaire
Solaire Pas Cher

Les 4 conditions pour avoir des panneaux solaires subventionnés

LesNewsEnFrance
:
 PATREON
become_a_patron_button@2x

FOLLOW

RELATED TITLES
Song of the Thin Man Rebel Without a Cause
:
 Song of the Thin Man Rebel Without a Cause

Song of the Thin Man Rebel Without a Cause The Great Escape

RECENT REVIEWS
Stars at Noon ☆
★☆★☆
★☆★
Patreon Exclusive: V/H/S/99 ☆
★☆★☆
★

TÁR ☆
★☆★☆
★☆★
Halloween Ends ☆
★☆★

Patreon Exclusive: Hellraiser ☆

★☆★
Patreon Exclusive: Villains ☆
★☆★
Amsterdam ☆
★☆★☆
★

Patreon Exclusive: Blonde ☆

★☆★
Piggy ☆
★☆★☆
★☆★
Deadstream ☆
★☆★☆
★
:
 Deadstream ☆
★☆★☆
★

My Best Friend's Exorcism ☆

★☆★
Smile ☆
★☆★☆
★

Bros ☆
★☆★☆
★☆★
Sissy ☆
★☆★☆
★
Sidney ☆
★☆★☆
★

Don't Worry Darling ☆

★☆★
The Silent Twins ☆
★☆★☆
★
Goodnight Mommy ☆
★☆★

RECENT ARTICLES
Twin Cities Film Fest 2022

Zurich Film Festival Dispatch – Part 7

Reader's Choice: Eastern Promises
Zurich Film Festival Dispatch – Part 6

The Definitives: A History of Violence

Zurich Film Festival Dispatch – Part 5
Zurich Film Festival Dispatch – Part 4

Zurich Film Festival Dispatch – Part 3

The Definitives: Clueless

Zurich Film Festival Dispatch – Part 2

MAIN
Home
The Definitives
Reader’s Choice
Donate

REVIEWS
Reviews A-Z
The Definitives
Reader’s Choice
Patreon Exclusive
:
 FEATURES
Archive
Lists
Film Editorials
On Moviegoing

LISTS
Top 10 Films of 2021
Top 10 Films of 2020
Top 10 Films of 2019
View All

LEARN MORE
About DFR
Bibliography
Contact Us
Privacy Policy

FOLLOW
Twitter
Letterboxd
LinkedIn
Rotten Tomatoes

Deep Focus Review © 2006-2022. All rights reserved.

: