Detour

Outside the more established film studios of the time, a small group of resource-strapped studios (Republic, Monogram, Producers Releasing Corporation, and others), collectively nicknamed Poverty Row, produced a steady stream of short-duration genre films with lesser known (or unknown) casts, noticeably bare-bones production values, and minimal marketing. As the paragon of Poverty Row noir, Edgar Ulmer’s Detour holds a special place in the noir canon: economic constraints forced Ulmer to use his wild imagination to craft one of the most tautly effective, perfectly paced thrillers of the cycle, a sort of low-key, 68-minute symphony about two hitchhikers tangling with fate. Goldsmith’s script is replete with bitterly hard-boiled voice-over narration from hitchhiking pianist Al Roberts (Tom Neal, who resembles Brando at certain angles) and icy zingers from Vera (Ann Savage), the conniving, witch-like hitchhiker he picks up after “inheriting” a Lincoln Continental from another driver whom he accidentally killed. Aware of his crime, Vera agrees not to turn in Roberts to the police as long as he follows her orders, which lead to no good (“There ought to be a law against dames with claws”). With a shooting schedule lasting a mere six days (some dispute this), Ulmer created a perfect microcosm of the noir universe: suspicion and world weariness layered on thick, a list of now-standard noir settings (highway, roadside diner, hotel room, nightclub), and budget-driven shortcuts adding visual inventiveness (using spotlights to simplify production design, an over-sized coffee cup to simulate perspective, etc.). Notably, Ulmer’s brisk and economical pacing is maintained by frequent, rapid transitions, especially wipes, and the steady voice-over and flashback narration.