Moontide

Following a string of successful films in the style of poetic realism, French superstar Jean Gabin starred in Archie Mayo’s Moontide, his first of two films for Hollywood, where poetry far outweighed realism at the time. In fact, it’s the Hollywood studio sheen that makes Moontide such an enjoyable noir, Charles Clarke’s foggy, crepuscular lighting and Thomas Little’s elaborate, waterfront sets establishing an almost supernatural atmosphere in which distant foghorns and nearby phonographs complete the sensory immersion. Gabin stars as French immigrant and “bait barge” worker Bobo, who wakes up with no memory of his night of inebriation (which includes a fantastic montage of drunken imagery) but having in his possession the hat of a man who had been choked to death during the night, which worries the goodhearted Bobo enough to halt his plans to leave town with his best pal Tiny (Thomas Mitchell). Later that evening, Bobo rescues a hopelessly suicidal woman named Anna (Ida Lupino) and offers her shelter in his shack; this soon turns to attraction, then a relationship, then marriage, which incenses the jealous Tiny, who hints that his knowledge of Bobo’s violent past may have blackmail potential; Bobo angrily ejects Tiny from his life, but he will be back. In a relatively peripheral part, Claude Rains plays night watchman Nutsy, a trustworthy friend who “hasn’t slept since 1936,” and Jerome Cowan plays the wealthy Dr. Brothers who constantly recruits Bobo’s assistance in repairing his boat. While Gabin’s talents may not have been a natural fit for Hollywood, his performance here is fine, especially in the romantic scenes with Anna that comprise a large middle section of the film (in the scene where Anna serves him eggs, Gabin is seated at the table in a low chair looking child-like, like an actor not fitting the Hollywood mold). Don’t expect a story as compelling as the greats of the cycle, but Moontide is a visual marvel, and its lost souls — more pretty than gritty — will pull you in deep.