The Black Dahlia
Directed by Brian De Palma
- crime
- thriller
- drama
The story
In 1940s Los Angeles, two former boxers-turned-cops must grapple with corruption, narcissism, stag films and family madness as they pursue the killer of an aspiring young actress.
What it’s like
Lush, overheated noir light: sodium-yellow streetlamps, bruised purple night skies, sunlit Hollywood gloss turned sour, and a palette of gold, shadowed blue and blood red. Brian De Palma's camera glides and cranes in long, showy tracking shots, circles around tableaux, and lingers on mirrors, staircases and doorways, with a constant sense of being watched. The score swells in lush, melodramatic strings over a city that feels humid, dusty and faintly corrupt, its clubs, bungalows and studio backlots all staged like sets. The mood is feverish and seductive, a stylised fever dream of obsession rather than a grounded procedural, its rhythm deliberate and sometimes languid, building toward a jolt of violence. Intensity is high: a brutal, graphic murder is shown in unsparing detail, and sexual content, nudity and pornographic film material appear across the story, with cruelty and a steady undertow of menace. It suits a late, unhurried night for those who love style-heavy neo-noir, lingering on the sleaze under the glamour, and it is not for anyone wanting something gentle or easy to sit with.
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