Dead Men Don't Wear PlaidClassic film noir gems from yesteryear have defined the hard-boiled detective story in cinema, with steely private eyes and femme fatales. Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid is both a spoof and an homage to that style of filmmaking that helped pave the way for countless stars on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. Detective Rigby Reardon (Steve Martin) is commissioned by the lovely Juliet Forest (Rachel Ward), daughter of a noted scientist and cheese enthusiast, to investigate whether her father's untimely passing was foul play. As Rigby digs deeper into the investigation, he becomes involved in a conspiracy with some players who should be familiar to classic movie fans.
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Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid takes a novel approach to its humorous recreation of vintage thrillers and pulp detective stories; rather than simply ape the mannerisms and dress of these archetypes for comedic effect, the film actually superimposes scenes from a variety of classics and appropriates the likenesses and characters from numerous other films from the 1940s. To match the scenes stitched together like a celluloid quilt, the production design of Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid is also painstakingly similar to its progenitors. This effect is bolstered by the contributions of industry veterans including composer Miklós Rózsa and legendary costume designer, Edith Head. Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid would be her final film, a tribute to the look and feel of another age in which her talents were such a significant part. A good deal of the comedy of the film comes from seeing classic actors like Vincent Price or Bette Davis playing characters out of context with the framework of the story of Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid. The film is entirely self-aware of its roots, leading to inside jokes, like an aside Rigby makes to a girl he's trying to convince to help him on a case played by Lana Turner; he claims he regrets leaving her stranded at a counter at Schwab's. (In reality, Lana Turner was discovered at the counter of the Top Hat Cafe, but the legend still makes the joke a good one.) For those familiar with the shots and scenes from the original sources, seeing Steve Martin amble his way out of the future and into the past is surreal and also delightfully unpredictable. Characters who were presented one way in their proper films are depicted in either absurd renditions--as is the case with Barbara Stanwyck's character from Sorry, Wrong Number--or somehow heightened caricatures of their counterparts, like Fred MacMurray's character of Walter Neff in Double Indemnity. The effect is that when one of these film icons comes on screen, you get a chuckle out of what you know to be a scene played out of context, made funnier by the comedy surrounding it. Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid occupies a unique place in movies, actually exposing the audience to a variety of other great movies to seek out, for those unfamiliar with the source material. This doesn't mean that Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid requires any knowledge of these films in advance, but does offer a unique sense of enjoyment for those who are.
Even though Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid is a comedy assembled from films around forty years older than it, there is still a coherent narrative resulting from the dance between crafting a story around and within the footage. It has been joked that the story is no more complex than one of it's sources, The Big Sleep, which itself is notorious for having a complex plot spread out into various angles. But Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid is a construct built from the original works, adding and adapting, like a dance of editing and direction. Sometimes this means some shots are done with Steve Martin's face visible and a stand-in resembling a classic actor or actress (like Ava Gardner) from behind, or the other way around, with Steve Martin dressed in a suit reminiscent of the guy whose back we see in the shots. Clever editing and original music blurs the edges, and to the untrained eye--or those drawn in by the clever concept--they are indistinguishable at times. Rigby's role as a private eye conjures up the quintessential gumshoe from films like The Maltese Falcon and The Big Sleep: Humphrey Bogart. Rigby's detective buddy is, in fact, "Marlowe", albeit one who has strict rules about falling in love with clients--in macrame, no less--and a disdain for wearing ties. Rigby is quite a bit of a weirdo--even a bit of a creep--fondling Juliet when she passes out in his office, and flying into a fit when someone has the misfortune to say "cleaning woman". His absurd seriousness and all too quick willingness to cross-dress under the auspices of going undercover make him a comical satire of guys like Marlowe, and plenty of sight gags downplay the seriousness before it gets to deep, like Rigby's process of making his famous java or the simple Band-Aid Juliet employs to field dress his repeat bullet would. As Rigby seeks out the "friends and enemies of Carlotta", he steps in time to the old familiar songs of film noir; and who could turn down a collection of classic "dance partners" like these from some of Hollywood's finest?
Recommended for: Fans of classic detective movies from the Forties as well as an especially devoted spoof made all the richer by its detailed recreation of the past, resulting in a cast to die for.
Even though Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid is a comedy assembled from films around forty years older than it, there is still a coherent narrative resulting from the dance between crafting a story around and within the footage. It has been joked that the story is no more complex than one of it's sources, The Big Sleep, which itself is notorious for having a complex plot spread out into various angles. But Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid is a construct built from the original works, adding and adapting, like a dance of editing and direction. Sometimes this means some shots are done with Steve Martin's face visible and a stand-in resembling a classic actor or actress (like Ava Gardner) from behind, or the other way around, with Steve Martin dressed in a suit reminiscent of the guy whose back we see in the shots. Clever editing and original music blurs the edges, and to the untrained eye--or those drawn in by the clever concept--they are indistinguishable at times. Rigby's role as a private eye conjures up the quintessential gumshoe from films like The Maltese Falcon and The Big Sleep: Humphrey Bogart. Rigby's detective buddy is, in fact, "Marlowe", albeit one who has strict rules about falling in love with clients--in macrame, no less--and a disdain for wearing ties. Rigby is quite a bit of a weirdo--even a bit of a creep--fondling Juliet when she passes out in his office, and flying into a fit when someone has the misfortune to say "cleaning woman". His absurd seriousness and all too quick willingness to cross-dress under the auspices of going undercover make him a comical satire of guys like Marlowe, and plenty of sight gags downplay the seriousness before it gets to deep, like Rigby's process of making his famous java or the simple Band-Aid Juliet employs to field dress his repeat bullet would. As Rigby seeks out the "friends and enemies of Carlotta", he steps in time to the old familiar songs of film noir; and who could turn down a collection of classic "dance partners" like these from some of Hollywood's finest?
Recommended for: Fans of classic detective movies from the Forties as well as an especially devoted spoof made all the richer by its detailed recreation of the past, resulting in a cast to die for.