Woman On The Run (Norman Foster, 1950)

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Walking his dog one evening, artist turned window dresser Frank Johnson chances on the murder of the key witness on a gangland trial. Informed by Police Inspector Ferris (Robert Keith) that he’s now going to be filling the dead mans shoes in the witness stand, Johnson decides not to stick around and promptly goes to ground. Cue Eleanor Johnson (Ann Sheridan), the sardonic ice maiden married – but only barely – to Frank. From initial unconcern, the danger that her husband is in begins to sink in and a change registers. Before you know it, she is traversing the San Francisco rooftops in high heels, Dennis O’Keefe’s pushy yet charming reporter in tow, in an attempt to track down Frank before the killer, or police, get to him first.

Norman Foster’s taut thriller contains all the deep shadows, canted angles, narrow staircases and watery endings of classic noir, but without missing a beat Foster takes the drama into other areas of melodrama. Finding her spouse requires following a clue that has her searching not only the streets of the city, but also into the crags of her own marriage. To a crescendo of insinuation that Frank may actually be running from her, Eleanor is also forced to the realization that she may not know her husband as well as she thinks. Reversing the noir stereotype of a weak man lured off the rails by a dangerous woman, in Woman On The Run a straight woman seeks to rescue her sap of a husband from danger while discovering that he actually might be a great guy.

The resources put into the beautiful 2015 restoration of this movie by the Film Noir Foundation might be justified by the images it provides of mid-century San Francisco alone. Foster makes full use of the photogenic city locations, as Eleanor’s quest takes her from the hills to the wharf, into its narrow bars, and unusual subterranean haunts: the eerie mannequin workshop in which Frank works on a familiar line in cadavers, the city morgue, and to a Chinatown cabaret act which reminds one that while the Orson Welles’ vehicle Journey Into Fear might be the film Norman Foster is best remembered for, he also had a clutch of orientalist Charlie Chan and Mr Moto mysteries under his belt. Throughout, Mohr’s cinematography imbues the film with a glistening, seductive gleam.

At the heart of the film is the superb performance from Ann Sheridan. Her Eleanor is sharp and resourceful, her dialogue a riot of zingers unleashed with deadpan solemnity. At around the halfway mark Foster ups the tension with a big, if not entirely surprising, twist and the film builds to a thrilling fairground climax where Eleanor’s rollercoaster ride turns from the metaphorical to the literal. Nonetheless, while the pace of the adventure never lets up, it is Sheridan’s handling of Eleanor’s faltering interior journey, her transformation from jaded disenchantment to love renewed, that lets Woman On The Run stand out as a true classic of crime melodrama.