The Big Clock (1948) Pressbook
Many noir dramas combine studio simulations with the real thing…John Farrow’s The Big Clock opens with a panoramic view of New York at night, twinkling splendidly under the titles. After the credits, the camera pans to the right, zooming in on a particular building in the city. As the camera moves in through the window, the film shifts from the real world to one of studio fabrication. (The Dark Side of the Screen: Film Noir, Foster Hirsch)
“Did you ever get to posting that pressbook for The Big Clock?” asked Zombos, lounging on the couch while sipping at his glass of Bicerin.
I, of course, was painstakingly working on this post. I knew deep down that he relished seeing me sweat while he sipped. It was all very annoying, I can tell you. We had been rummaging–rather, he had been stumbling while I had been rummaging–through his vast closet of things. The internet couldn’t hold a candle to it, I assure you. Amazing how many pressbooks he didn’t know he had, forgetting them as he squirreled them away years ago.
“Finishing it up now,” I said, typing away on my laptop.
“Awfully good and different noir, that one,” he said.
“Yes, the opening transition from skyline to inside the building, Charles Laughton as the quirky, stern, and murderous boss, and Elsa Lanchester providing a bit of humor while Ray Milland does that self-deprecating thing with his eyes and his smooth exterior motions as he races against time to prove his innocence while he conducts the search for himself as the guilty party, trapped within that building of cavernous space and stark art deco environs. And through it all, that huge clock, the beating heart of the building and Laughton’s stark character, nicely decked out with glowing dials and levers and buttons, like a control panel from a science fiction movie.”
“Brilliant cast too, with Maureen O’Sullivan, Harry Morgan, George Macready, and the snippet of Noel Neill as the elevator operator.” Zombos followed his comment with a sip, then continued. “Morgan’s omnipresent and sinister henchman is wonderful. Maureen O’Sullivan as the moral compass for Milland’s more questionable character is minimal but still very important. And of course we have the femme fatale played by Rita Johnson, where Milland’s character gets his edges sanded a bit.
I finished the post (obviously, as you are reading it now), and left Zombos lounging as I headed to the kitchen to get Chef Machiavelli to create another one of his Bicerin delight’s for my own lounging. He shouted after me, “after you get your drink, let us watch The Big Clock again.” I strongly recommend you seek out your own Bicerin and sip it while perusing these pressbook pages. And by all means, watch the movie too.
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