Noirvember Fatale Attractions: Joan Bennett in Scarlet Street (1945)💋

She purrs his name like it’s a secret — “Johnny…” — and just like that, his world begins to unravel. In Scarlet Street (1945), Joan Bennett sheds her earlier glamour to become Kitty March, one of film noir’s most vicious, irresistible heartbreakers. She’s a femme fatale without the polish, without the satin gloves. Just grit, greed, and a survival instinct sharper than a knife.

Directed by Fritz Lang, this bleak and fatalistic film adapts the French novel La Chienne (meaning “The Bitch”) by Georges de La Fouchardière, a story rooted in betrayal, desire, and moral corruption. It centers on Christopher Cross (Edward G. Robinson), a shy cashier who becomes an aspiring painter. Christopher rescues Kitty from a late-night beating in a rain-soaked New York street, he falls for her instantly. Kitty sees an easy mark. Her boyfriend, played by a deliciously sleazy Dan Duryea, sees dollar signs. Together, they bleed Christopher dry of money, art, and eventually, hope. What begins as a simple con turns into one of noir’s most tragic unravelings.

"He tried to kiss me today. And don't think I liked it."

That line is pure Kitty. She isn’t the cool, calculated ice queen of Double Indemnity. She’s raw, streetwise, messy, and absolutely shameless. Bennett plays her as a woman carved by bad choices and worse men, someone who learned young that manipulation pays better than sincerity. There’s no remorse in Kitty, just appetite. Lang’s direction turns the city into a moral maze, cramped rooms, harsh shadows, and windows that feel like cages.

Lang reunites his Woman in the Window trio (Robinson, Duryea, Bennett), but this time pushes them into even darker territory. Robinson gives one of his most vulnerable performances, Duryea revels in sleaze, and Bennett, with those dark bangs and that sly little smirk, becomes a full-fledged noir goddess.

Scarlet Street was so scandalous for its time. Adultery, murder, and exploitation it was banned in three states (New York, Ohio, and Atlanta). Fritz Lang fought for Joan Bennett to take on Kitty. He wanted her “dangerous,” not dainty. A massive shift from her 1930s ingénue image. She later called Kitty one of her favorite roles because it let her be “wicked, but human.” Bennett and Lang made a creative dream team (and sometimes a nightmare). Lang pushed her relentlessly, demanding harder edges and a colder heart. The result? The best performance of her noir career.

Kitty doesn’t play by noir’s usual rules. She isn’t haunted, conflicted, or tragic — she’s only haunted by what she can’t have. She toys with men because she can, and when the game turns bloody, she doesn’t flinch.

She doesn’t wear her heart on her sleeve…
She sells it, one lie at a time.

Fade to black… until the next Fatale Attraction. 🖤