Charles Vidor’s Gilda (1946) is many things: a noir classic, psychological thriller, romantic comedy, backstage musical, Hays Code decoy, even a drinking game. But be warned, viewers who sip whenever the name Johnny is mentioned could pass out since it’s said 101 times!
Cinema 101
Technically speaking, Gilda belongs to a specific subset of the film noir genre: exotic noir. It sidesteps the tropes of a hard-boiled gumshoe or a regular Joe getting stung by a femme fatale. While many traditional noirs—The Maltese Falcon (1941), Double Indemnity (1944), The Big Sleep (1946), and The Postman Always Rings Twice (1946)—are set in a sunless California, exotic noirs take place on foreign soil.
From Casablanca to Tangier, the geopolitical instability of a border zone echoes the antihero’s emotional insecurity. Instead of a black-and-white world of grimy crime, exotic noirs present a glamorous gray space where the male protagonist’s real danger comes from inner demons, not the dame he desires. Simply put, murder-driven noirs investigate “whodunit,” while this romantically challenged sub-genre asks, “will they or won’t they?”
Like Casablanca (1942), To Have and Have Not (1944), and Notorious (1946), Gilda’s prime focus is on the love story. A tungsten monopoly subplot is barely mentioned and something as monumental as WWII is addressed in one nonchalant line: “By the way, about that time, the war ended.”
Yes, the witty and intricate script (by feminine-named men Marion Parsonnet and Jo Eisinger, plus an uncredited Ben Hecht) is absolutely terrific as are the performances, sets, and Rudolph Maté’s cinematography.
Genre-Fluid
Shot during the Hays Code, the 110-minute flick opens on a dock in Buenos Aires. Here, an American expat/possible draft dodger (Glenn Ford) is on his knees, shooting craps with sailors. He’s Johnny (sip) Farrell and he’s about to get mugged. But as soon as he’s rescued by German millionaire Ballin Mundson (George Macready), the film’s gangster setup morphs into queer-coded camp, what with Ballin wielding a blade-tipped cane nicknamed his obedient little friend.
Ballin takes Johnny (sip) under his wing (among other things). Once cleaned up, the up-and-comer runs Ballin’s swanky casino. Presumably his services extend after hours since Johnny (sip) moves into Ballin’s posh estate. It’s all hunky dory until Ballin takes a trip to the interior and comes back with a bride! She’s Gilda and she’s played by Rita Hayworth at her absolute best.
Johnny (sip) may be a gambling man, but he has a terrible poker face. The second he sees the new Mrs. Mundson, it’s obvious they share a romantic past. But rather than showing their cards, she bluffs with bravado and he antes up. At this point, Gilda shifts into a twisted rom-com with a meet-cute that’s more meet-cut.
When introduced, Gilda says, “So this is Johnny [sip] Farrell. I’ve heard a lot about you,” to which he replies, “Really? Now, I haven’t heard a word about you.” Moments later she feigns forgetfulness, saying, “Johnny is such a hard name to remember, and so easy to forget. Johnny.” (That’s two more sips!)
Battle of the Exes
After tactfully giving Ballin back his house key, Johnny (sip) starts sleeping at the casino. Why not? He runs the joint. He’s also tasked with shadowing and chauffeuring Gilda to ensure she doesn’t flirt with any men. Knowing this, Gilda flirts with plenty of men. Seeing Johnny (sip) spin his wheels is the only way she can gauge his affection.
As Johnny (sip) chases his tail, the sardonic script lets him quip, “Pardon me, but your husband is showing.” The banter continues as a manic Johnny (sip) asks a flirtatious Gilda, “Doesn’t it bother you at all that you’re married?” to which she taunts, “What I want to know is, does it bother you?”
Of course it bothers him; the thought of her with another man is triggering. Johnny (sip) fiercely tries to resist Gilda but can’t contain his passion which fluctuates from rage to attraction. Yet when dancing together, his mask begins to slip…
Gilda: You used to say “talk or dance, but don’t do both things at the same time.” And you used to say—
Johnny: I still say it.
Gilda: I have to keep talking, Johnny [sip]. As long as I have my arms around you, I have to keep talking. I might forget to dance, Johnny [sip].
Johnny: What do you think you’re trying to do?
Gilda: I’m not even trying very hard, but I’m doing it.
Bizarre Love Triangle
Johnny (sip) and Gilda, Johnny (sip) and Ballin, Ballin and Gilda—this is no ordinary love triangle. It’s a three-sided prism where the characters share a vocabulary of obsession, even repeating each other’s words. Both Johnny (sip) and Gilda tell Ballin, “I was born the day I met you.” Ballin informs Gilda, “Hate is a very exciting emotion.” She then says the same to Johnny (sip).
In separate scenes, Hayworth and Ford recite the rhetorical question: “Who do you think you’re kidding?” As Gilda and Johnny (sip), they’re not fooling each other or the audience since their onscreen chemistry is palpable. That the two characters wind up in the same place (Argentina) with the same man (Ballin) is proof of their entangled trajectory.
From a structural standpoint, Ballin isn’t a true pillar of the throuple. He is a narrative device used to reunite Johnny (sip) and Gilda despite the film’s homoerotic subtext which can be heard in the dialogue (“You must lead a gay life”) and seen in Ballin’s phallic cane. Cigarettes serve a similar purpose—especially for Gilda, whose smoking reflects her loneliness and frustration.
Queer theorists claim Johnny’s (sip) animosity towards Gilda is proof of his love for Ballin per Freud’s reaction formation defense mechanism. This 19th-century concept says repressed people express the opposite of their feelings. If so, it confirms Johnny’s yearning for Gilda as evidenced in his inner monologue, “I hated her, so I couldn’t get her out of my mind for a minute. She was in the air I breathed—and the food I ate.”
Crazy in Love
Viewing Johnny (sip) through 20th-century attachment theory accounts for his erratic behavior. As an anxious-leaning fearful avoidant, he’d seek (and find) the deep intimacy he craves with Gilda. But as the label suggests, he’s as fearful of losing her as losing himself in the relationship. As such, a fearful avoidant can blindside a partner by preemptively breaking up in search of a low-stakes replacement.
Johnny (sip) likely cycled through brief encounters before landing on Ballin. In the 1940s, a homosexual retreat could provide physical benefits without the emotional risk required in a heterosexual arrangement. And because avoidant discards are notoriously brutal, it’s no surprise a heartbroken Gilda would rebound with the seemingly secure Ballin.
Even when fearful avoidants reclaim their partners, they often maintain emotional distance by imagining wrongdoings. Under the guise of protecting Ballin, Johnny (sip) assumes the worst of Gilda to justify his cruelty. But she eventually pushes back with her famed striptease.
Female Gaze
While dressed in her iconic Jean Louis gown, Gilda sings “Put the Blame on Mame.” The lyrics mock how Johnny (sip) in particular and society at large unjustly blame women for all kinds of natural and manmade disasters.
Cinematically, the scene indicts film noir itself for creating the femme fatale from a psychological projection of male anxiety. As the Gilda-inspired Jessica Rabbit says in Who Framed Roger Rabbit (1988), “I’m not bad. I’m just drawn that way.”
Chicago native Virginia Van Upp produced Gilda and had a hand in rewriting the original story, which was penned by another woman: E.A. (Elpha Anita) Ellington. Perhaps that’s why Gilda flips the male gaze by calling men “pretty” and “beautiful.” But when objectification leans into emasculation with her observation, “How very pretty you look in your nightgown,” a guarded Johnny (sip) tightens his robe belt. That is, until he’s finally ready to shed his emotional armor.
Faux Fatale
Apart from Gaslight (1944) and the like, most noirs are told from a male perspective. The exceptional Gilda is no exception. Desperately trying to spin the story in his favor, Johnny (sip) narrates Acts 1 and 2. Yet his biased voiceover drops off altogether in Act 3. This signals his evolution as he starts to relinquish control and acknowledge his chaotic behavior. Ultimately, Johnny’s (sip) hostility was never a sign that he didn’t want Gilda, but rather a symptom of how he was terrified of wanting her.
Gilda is many things: a singer, dancer, smoker, nonsmoker, rebound bride, strategic flirt, emotional catalyst, sarcastic siren, and vulnerable vixen. She’s a superstitious woman who learns to make her own luck and, when she graciously forgives the near-unforgivable, she’s a total heroine. There’s no femme fatale in the mix.
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Highly recommended, Gilda (Sep. 7) can be seen on the big screen during Music Box Theatre’s Noir City: Chicago series (Sep. 4-9). Other films being shown include Sweet Smell of Success (Sep. 4), To Have and Have Not (Sep. 5), and The Wrong Man (Sep. 8).