I, the Jury (1953)

Bordering on self-parody to the point I'm not entirely certain what was and wasn't intentional, "I, the Jury" might be the most Christmas noir movie I've come across to date. From start to end, this wants you to know it's set during the holidays. As for noir, it encapsulates the style, tone, and tropes of the quasi-genre to the point of absurdity. The movie lacks subtlety to the point it honestly feels closer to the sort of parody or homage you'd see in a TV sitcom dream sequence about a cynical private eye surrounded (and I do mean surrounded) by femme fatales.

None of that is inherently good or bad, depending on what you're in the mood for. More accurately, it's not enjoyable or unenjoyable: the writing, acting, and directing is all pretty bad here (though the cinematography and set design is quite good). If cheesy noir mystery sounds like a fun way to spend your evening, this absolutely delivers that experience.

Dissecting how this came to be didn't take much work. "I, the Jury" is an adaptation of the first of Mickey Spillane's Mike Hammer novels. Hammer was originally envisioned as a comic book character before Spillane reworked him for a series of books. While there are exceptions, the majority of comics of the era were extremely simplistic - that simplicity seems to have remained intact into at least Hammer's first cinematic incarnation.

It probably didn't help that this was filmed to be shown in 3D, though if IMDB's trivia page is to be believed it wasn't consistently shown that way. I can't say for certain how much of the movie's bold directing was an attempt to recreate the flavor of the source material and how much was trying to lean into the larger than life feel of 3D, but the film feels as though it's perpetually trying to convince you that you're seeing something big and exciting. This is the sort of movie that sets out to be a spectacle.

Perhaps it achieved that in 1953. But whatever impact this had faded. I'm sure the barrage of inuendo from women trying to seduce Mike Hammer came across as salacious at the time, but after six decades of cinema unshackled from the Hays Code, it feels almost quaint now. Same goes for the violence, which lacks the visceral, brutal realism modern action cinema aims for. I'm skeptical that Biff Elliot's performance ever had the effect it was going for, but he now seems more comical than edgy as he barks threats at grieving women and picks fights. The movie implies he's tough, effective, and relentless, but he just comes across as a dumb asshole.

Peggie Castle is a little better (or at least more interesting) as Charlotte, the movie's central femme fatale (we'll get to why "femme fatale" requires an identifier). She's playing a psychoanalyst connected to the murder of one of Hammer's friends, and the two quickly fall in love. Like everything else in this movie, her performance is lacking in subtlety: if you don't realize she's going to be the killer because she's literally the only character in this Hammer seems to like, she tosses in some blatantly villainous expressions at key moments.

In addition to Charlotte, there are two other women serving as love interests for Hammer: his secretary and a wealthy woman with a twin (the secretary is not treated as a femme fatale; both twins are). Meanwhile, the fiancé of the man killed at the beginning has a past that comes into play, and she winds up dead in the end. Then there's another woman Hammer interrogates who gives private dance lessons and winds up yet another victim. All are beautiful, and most at least try to flirt with Hammer (who in turn screams at and/or accuses them of murder at one point or another).

Not misogynistic enough for you? He winds up shooting Charlotte in the stomach at the end of the movie in what's presented as just payback for the similar murder of his friend at the start. Her last words are asking him how he could do it, to which he coldly replies, "It was easy."

There are, of course, some extenuating circumstances (she was holding a gun at the time, though it's actually not clear whether he knew that), but the story is manipulated to justify an unrelenting war veteran murdering a woman he's involved with (he shoots her while kissing her, in fact). If it's any consolation, all this comes off much less offensive than it otherwise would because it's impossible to take any of them seriously as characters.

Charlotte's motive, incidentally, is money and power: she's trying to take over a criminal racket by eliminating her competition, as well as the man who was investigating them (that'd be Hammer's friend from the beginning). She tries to convince Hammer to join her when he figures all this out by promising the world can be theirs, only for him to tell her he never wanted the world. My understanding is that this sequence was taken from the book, and I suspect it planted seeds in Ian Fleming's imagination that inspired aspects of Casino Royale and the Christmas novel/movie On Her Majesty's Secret Service. But the Bond installment this is even closer to is the one spun off of the latter: the post-Fleming movie The World Is Not Enough features a villain extremely similar to Charlotte, who's gunned down by Bond in a scene extremely reminiscent of this one.

The character's profession is also interesting. A beautiful, manipulative psychoanalyst is of course something of a suspense archetype at this point. I kept wondering if the revamped Harley Quinn from the new Amazon Batman series might have been partially inspired by her, but it's not too hard to think of more famous examples.

The rest of the plot is pretty ridiculous. Hammer spends the movie trying to chase down leads that ultimately lead him to an overly complicated conspiracy involving a forty-something year-old masquerading as a twenty-year-old college student recruiting for a syndicate fencing stolen artwork. I guess they were drug dealers in the book; most likely the movie was trying to steer clear of the Hays Code. At any rate, the original leader of the syndicate (who Hammer kills in a gun fight) is played by Alan Reed, who also voiced Fred Fintstone.

None of that's really a reason to watch this, though, unless you're really curious about the origins of pulp action and associated genres (and even then you'd probably be better off with the book). But as I said at the outset, this movie does offer a generous helping of noir tropes within an unambiguously holiday setting.

The story and characters are steeped in the genre, to the point of absurdity. But it's the tone and look of the thing that's most likely to interest connoisseurs. This features the extreme angles, dark shadows, and heavy contrast you'd expect, along with images of beautiful actresses looking and behaving seductively. If you're looking for something to recreate the feel of a pulp crime cover (or at least as close as the prudish motion picture guidelines allow), this is about as close it gets (at least within the era of authentic noir). There's also a fight sequence atop a massive open staircase that makes for a pretty impressive piece of set design.

But the Christmas stuff is what we're really here to discuss, and - in my opinion, at least - this where the movie really stands out, particularly in the ways it clashes with the noir elements. The film opens with warm holiday music in an appropriately decorated home office. All this quickly changes when the door opens, a gun barrel sticks in, and a gunshot sounds. The music changes to suspense, as the wounded figure starts trying to crawl across the floor as the credits play over this, culminating with him collapsing dead. It's an extremely blatant use of contrast, a technique that would become commonplace in the decades to come. I have no idea whether this specifically influenced Shane Black (this is far from the only Christmas noir flick out there), but it wouldn't surprise me.

This isn't a one-off use, either: the movie integrates Christmas throughout, typically with a similar goal of playing up the disconnect between a time of supposed peace and goodwill with violence, corruption, and crime. The most interesting and memorable technique involves using a series of holiday post cards to mark scene transitions to new locations. Supposedly this was due to budget limitations, as the movie couldn't afford to get these shots on location in New York. I'm a little skeptical - they could probably have used stock of the city decorated for Christmas if they'd wanted to. Instead, you're shown an idealized portrait of the city, coupled with what's presented as a seedier reality.

The music plays with this, as well, using cheerful holiday music that's replaced with a dark, dramatic soundtrack that retains elements of the Christmas songs. I'm not sure if it's effective, but I certainly had fun listening to bits of Jingle Bells in the score to a hardboiled detective movie.

"More fun than effective" is probably a good summary of the movie as a whole. Aside from the cinematography, this isn't a good movie by most measurements. But it's enjoyable seeing one of these embrace the holidays as a setting while doubling down on its dark, nihilistic genre. I love Cover Up (which actually is a good movie), but that's a Christmas movie with noir elements. "I, the Jury" is a noir through and through that's covered in Christmas paraphernalia. It doesn't really have anything of value to say, but the existence of the thing itself is a sort of guilty pleasure.

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