ROADBLOCK (RKO, 1951)

D: Harold Daniels. P: Lewis J. Rchmil. W: Richard Landau, Daniel Mainwaring, Steve Fisher, George Bricker. Ph: Nicholas Musuraca. M: Paul Sawtell. St: Charles McGraw (Joe Peters), Joan Dixon (Diane), Lowell Gilmore (Kendall Webb), Louise Jean Heydt (Harry Miller), Milburn Stone (Egan)


“Can happiness buy money?” 

The barred shadows of Double Indemnity loom over this tale of an insurance investigator lured to the dark side by his materialistic mistress. Roadblock is a distillation of Indemnity’s central theme – itself a noir staple – of a good man who loses his moral compass through love of the wrong woman. When she repents, the film accrues a layer of cruel irony, its protagonist locked into a course of action that can only result in his downfall.  

The setup has gold-digger Diane playing upright Joe Peters for a sucker, posing as his wife at the airport ticket desk to get a discounted flight to LA. During a weather-enforced stopover, verbal jousting displaces sexual tension, as was often the case in noir, as Joe’s growls of disapproval – “I don’t like chisellers” – ricochet off Diane’s cynical rebuttals. Belittling “Honest Joe” for his lack of ambition, she nevertheless finds him attractive; Joe, for his part, is caught in her web – McGraw may have been the stone-faced heavy nonpareil, but his evocation of Joe’s crumbling self-esteem, his moral certitude visibly punctured by Diane’s jibes, is no less convincing.
 
 
Far less plausible is Diane’s realisation, as if at the flick of a switch, that she’d be happier with Joe and his modest salary than with the flashy racketeer Kendall Webb, who swathes her in (stolen) furs. It is Webb with whom Joe, hoping to buy Diane’s affections, conspires to intercept a currency shipment underwritten by his company. Diane’s change of heart, imparted with typical B-movie brevity, makes her a less dynamic presence; Dixon, so sharp in those early rounds of sparring with McGraw, has fewer opportunities to shine as the film goes on. 

Nonetheless, this development does sharpen the irony of Joe’s predicament – he becomes a criminal for no reason – as well as the focus on a prominent trope of these postwar thrillers: once the wheels of a plan are set in motion, it is impossible to put the brakes on, as Joe finds when he tries to back out of his arrangement with Webb. Assigned to the robbery case by his superiors, he becomes, like the protagonists of Somewhere in the Night and The Big Clock, a man effectively investigating himself.
 
 
McGraw is as purposeful as ever, effortlessly carrying the plot to its ruthless but logical conclusion after a desperate car chase along the much-filmed LA River culvert. Roadblock is a solid platform for McGraw’s too-often untapped talents as a leading man, but it is no Double Indemnity. It moves at a fair clip but in a straight line, avoiding the bends and twists of the more compelling noir narratives, and Daniels’ direction is pedestrian. Perhaps as a consequence, the photography by the great Nicholas Musuraca is uninspired on this occasion.
Kevin Grant
 
 

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