
1944 · Edward Dmytryk
How Murder, My Sweet has been received, argued over, and remembered.
A hit in 1944 and one of the films French critics actually had on the table when they coined the term 'film noir' in 1946 — so its stock never crashed; it just got promoted from snappy thriller to founding document of a genre.
The forever fight: is Dick Powell the best screen Philip Marlowe — as Raymond Chandler himself reportedly felt — or does Bogart in The Big Sleep own the role?
Its hallucination sequence and hard-boiled voiceover ('a black pool opened up at my feet...') became the template for a thousand noir parodies — when a comedy spoofs a trench-coated detective narrating his own concussion, it's channeling this film.
Essential-noir syllabus material: the film noir fans hand you right after Double Indemnity and The Maltese Falcon, and a perennial 'Powell was robbed' rewatch on Letterboxd.