By Owen Glancy Asst. Arts & Features Editor The early 1940s was undoubtedly one of the most tumultuous times not just in film history, but in world history in general. As World War II continued to ravage the world, many countries lost decades of film history to Nazi censorship, and many more countries were forced to make propaganda films. Even Hollywood was not completely free from this as American studios began to lean heavily into the escapist genres of romance and horror so as to offer a brief reprieve from the horrors of WWII. One of the genres born in this desire for escapism was the film noir. While its roots existed in movies like “M” and “Daybreak,” it wasn’t until the 1940s that we’d see the true emergence of the genre with early classics like “Out of the Past” and “The Maltese Falcon.” However, among these early film noirs, “Double Indemnity” stands out. Unlike many noirs, this film features no detective, instead following an insurance agent who is convinced by his client Phyllis Dietrichson to commit insurance fraud by killing her husband after he buys accident insurance. Admittedly, this doesn’t initially sound like the most engaging story, but it very quickly reels you in with its stylish filmmaking and iconic performances. Barbara Stanwyck owns this movie and is perhaps the biggest reason for its continued reverence. As one of the first ever femme fatales in film, Stanwyck had a lot riding on this performance, yet she delivered in spades. Her subtle seduction and manipulation of the men around her, while nothing new now, was revolutionary and became the standard for the genre. Another big reason as to why this film soars so high above its competitors is Billy Wilder’s direction. The dramatic lighting, the Dutch angles, the perfect blocking - it’s not hard to see why this has become so beloved when taking these all into account. While Wilder has made films that are similar to “Double Indemnity” in either tone or subject matter - “Sunset Boulevard” and “The Apartment” come to mind - neither lean as heavily into the noir elements. This film is defined by its moody atmosphere and dark tone that is perfectly set up by the opening scene. The audience is immediately drawn in as Walter Neff stumbles his way into his office, bleeding from a gunshot wound, as he picks up an audio recorder and begins to recount the events that led him to that moment. Right off the bat you’re left wondering what happened to get him into this predicament, as well as if he will eventually get out of it. A rarely discussed aspect of this film is the homoerotic undertones of a couple of its main characters. Neff and his boss Barton Keyes share an incredibly close bond, undeniably one beyond that of simple boss and employee. However, with the introduction of Phyllis Dietrichson, their relationship becomes strained as Neff attempts to hide his plan for murder from his boss, essentially stealing money from him in the form of insurance fraud. It isn’t until the very end of the film, where Neff is at the end of his rope with nowhere else to go, that we finally see the two come face to face. Neff knows he will die soon, and Keyes knows all of Neff’s schemes as he heard much of the audio recording. Despite this, we feel as if there’s very little animosity felt between the men. This isn’t an interaction of spite and hatred, but rather regret and melancholic disappointment. As the two men sit in the lobby, they share a smoke together, something often emblematic of a close relationship between partners during a time where anything remotely sexual was considered taboo to show in film. Despite everything Neff has done, we still can feel that Keyes cannot bring himself to hate him. This is undoubtedly the most underrated of Wilder’s works as it often doesn’t get the same mainstream attention as “Some Like it Hot,” “The Seven Year Itch,” or “Sunset Boulevard,” but its memory lives on in the minds of film noir fans and movie scholars alike as an undisputed classic.