James M. Cain - The Complete Crime Stories

You may all know the essential noir film Double Indemnity, based on James M. Cain’s classic novel. But in The Complete Crime Stories, we finally get all of Cain’s shorter works collected in one place, with an insightful introduction by Otto Penzler.

Unlike Hammett, Chandler, or Ross Macdonald, Cain was essentially a noir writer in the sense that his fiction contains no private investigators—only flawed, unsympathetic protagonists who usually stumble into trouble, often involving a woman. It can be argued that his work reflects the anxieties and hardships of the Great Depression era.

Cain originally wanted to be a singer, but he didn’t have the voice for it. He turned instead to journalism, where he was noticed by H. L. Mencken, who helped launch his writing career. His essay Paradise is still admired by critics.

His other notable novels include The Postman Always Rings Twice, which inspired a landmark noir film, as well as Mildred Pierce, but Serenade and Love’s Lovely Counterfeit are also worth reading.

Cain was fundamentally a short-form writer. As Otto Penzler notes in the introduction, none of Cain’s novels run much longer than 150 pages, and Cain himself once wrote that the short story is far superior to the novel. He also remarked that one of the weaknesses of American fiction is its dependence on the “sympathetic hero.”

Cain wrote in simple, direct language, believing that prose should sound like the speech of ordinary people on the street. Because of this style, he was sometimes called a writer of “tabloid murder.”

This collection of stories is very strong overall, but two stand out as the best: - Carreer in C Major, is one of Cain’s most unusual crime stories—there is no murder, no insurance scam, no getaway plan. Instead, Cain writes about a frustrated man in a dull marriage whose wife is an amateur singer. When he meets another woman, a professional vocalist, she discovers that he has a surprisingly good natural voice. As she trains him, he rises from an ordinary, unnoticed man to someone who can hold his own on an opera stage. But this new talent creates tension and jealousy between the two women in his life, and Cain turns what could have been a simple musical tale into a sharp study of vanity, desire, and emotional conflict., and Money and the Woman (Embezzler),tells the story of a bank employee who gets drawn into a moral and romantic trap. When his colleague, in debt, falls ill, the colleague’s wife asks the protagonist to assist in resolving her husband’s financial troubles. As they scheme to recover the money, unaware of the dangers around them, the protagonist falls in love with her, all the while suspicious of her intentions. Cain explores jealousy, temptation, and the consequences of human weakness, leading to a tense climax where plans unravel, loyalties are tested, and violence erupts. The story captures Cain’s signature noir style: ordinary people, flawed decisions, and a sense of inevitability that makes every choice carry weight. Great story that is reminiscent in some way of Double Indemnity. All in all, this is great short story collection for all noir lovers. French writers recognized existential elements in Cain prose and he was one of the first writers to appear in Gallimard imprint of American crime novels Serie Noire.

The Leopard Man (1943)

The Leopard Man (1943) is one of the defining works of Val Lewton's production unit at RKO Pictures and a standout example of the way film noir and horror can blend into a unified genre. Directed by the master of suspense, Jacques Tourneur, and based on a short story by Cornell Woolrich, The Leopard Man stands as a significant work in both genres. It is a film where the eerie atmosphere of horror and the shadowy world of noir intersect, demonstrating how these two genres, though often distinct in tone and approach, can use similar thematic tools and stylistic techniques to evoke tension and fear.

A Noir-Horror Hybrid: Similarities in Tone and Method

At its core, The Leopard Man is a murder mystery with a chilling supernatural edge. The story revolves around a series of killings that seem to be the work of a leopard, but the audience is left to question whether the animal is responsible or if something far more sinister and human is behind the crimes. While this premise draws on the conventions of horror — the fear of the unknown, the supernatural, and the grotesque — it is fundamentally structured as a noir thriller. The film’s moody cinematography, tight framing, and characters driven by paranoia, guilt, and hidden motives are all staples of the noir tradition.

In film noir, crime and moral ambiguity are central, and in The Leopard Man, these themes are amplified by the horrific, almost dreamlike elements introduced through the serial killings. The tension is not only created by the possibility of a human killer lurking in the shadows but also by the looming fear that an unstoppable, wild force — symbolized by the leopard — is at play. Much like in classic noir films, the characters are trapped in a web of deceit, and the city itself, an essential element of many noirs, becomes a murky, threatening environment.

Jacques Tourneur’s Direction: Building Suspense Through Shadows

Tourneur, a director renowned for his mastery of suspense, plays a pivotal role in blending these genres. He is best known for his work with Val Lewton on several low-budget horror films that relied heavily on suggestion, atmosphere, and psychological tension rather than explicit horror. In The Leopard Man, Tourneur expertly uses the shadows and unseen forces, a hallmark of both noir and horror, to evoke an atmosphere of dread.

The film’s most famous sequence, involving the off-screen presence of the leopard and the horrifying off-screen deaths, is a perfect example of how Tourneur uses implied horror to create unease. The audience never fully sees the threat — the leopard is often only heard or seen in fleeting glimpses, which amplifies the tension in the same way that noir films often suggest moral corruption and violence without explicitly showing it. This technique mirrors the way noir films suggest danger lurking beneath the surface of everyday life, a theme that resonates deeply with the eerie unknowns in horror.

Val Lewton's Role: Merging Noir and Horror

As the producer of The Leopard Man, Val Lewton played a crucial role in shaping the film’s tone and blending elements of horror with the stylistic traits of noir. Lewton was known for his ability to craft psychological horror films that didn't rely on graphic violence or gore, but instead created a sense of dread and unease through atmosphere and suggestion. His work with Tourneur often centered on the idea that what is unseen is far more terrifying than what is shown — a philosophy that resonates with the ambiguity and existential dread of film noir.

Lewton’s films, including The Leopard Man, often explore the dark, hidden sides of human nature, which is a key characteristic of both noir and horror. In a typical noir film, characters are often motivated by greed, lust, or vengeance, leading them into morally dubious situations. In The Leopard Man, the horrors of the human mind — manifested in the disturbed characters, and the terrifying unknown presence of the leopard — serve as a reflection of these noir themes of isolation, fear, and the darkness within.

The Intersection of Genres: Horror and Noir as Complementary Forces

Though horror and noir are often treated as distinct genres, they share a great deal in common. Both are interested in the darker aspects of human experience: fear, violence, corruption, and the unknown. In The Leopard Man, these themes converge, with the horror of the leopard killings providing a backdrop to the noir world of deception and dread. Both genres rely on atmosphere, mood, and tension rather than overt action, and both frequently feature characters who are trapped in situations that seem inescapable, whether due to an external malevolent force (like a monster) or their own moral failings.

Moreover, the blending of noir and horror allows The Leopard Man to explore the psychological aspects of fear and anxiety in a unique way. Just as in classic noir, the characters in The Leopard Man are not simply victims of an external threat; they are also haunted by their own inner demons, guilty secrets, and fragile sense of self. This duality — the external horror and the internal conflict — creates a richer, more complex narrative than either genre could achieve on its own.

Conclusion: A Legacy of Suspense and Psychological Terror

The Leopard Man is a prime example of how noir and horror, when fused together, can create a film that is both deeply unsettling and thematically resonant. Directed by Jacques Tourneur and produced by Val Lewton, this film is a standout in the 1940s horror cycle, demonstrating the way psychological suspense, shadowy atmospheres, and complex characters can work in harmony to explore fear — both supernatural and psychological.

In this film, the boundaries between genres blur, and it’s clear that noir and horror are not so different after all. Both are concerned with the fragility of the human psyche, the dangers of the unknown, and the shadowy forces that drive people toward violence and destruction. Through its haunting visuals, suspenseful pacing, and moral ambiguity, The Leopard Man continues to stand as a fascinating exploration of how these genres can intertwine, creating a chilling experience that resonates long after the film ends.

Noir Thriller - Lee Horsley

As in her Companion to Crime Fiction, Lee Horsley’s Noir Thriller Crime Files division of Palgrave MacMillan is a deep dive into the world of noir, exploring its literature and film through a mix of historical, cultural, and stylistic perspectives. Horsley treats noir not just as a genre, but as a viewpoint—dark, morally complex, and rooted in the harsh realities of urban life.

The book is structured chronologically: it starts with early noir during the Great Depression Hammett, James M. Cain, Horace McCoy), moves through the Golden Age (1945–1970), covers the post-1970 era—including cyberpunk noir like Gibson’s Neuromancer—and ends with a short chapter on contemporary noir in the 2000s. My favorite part is the 1945–1970 section, where she highlights some of the most influential works that shaped the genre (Cornell Woolrich, Jim Thompson, Patricia Highsmith, David Goodis).

What works:

• Horsley gives a fresh perspective on the fatal woman in noir films, showing how cinematic portrayals often demonized women, while literary noir offered more nuanced and complex characters.

• The discussion of cyberpunk noir and questions of what it means to be human adds a modern, philosophical layer that’s really engaging.

Critiques:

• Sometimes her focus on extra-literary factors—like politics or social context—can distract from the stories themselves.

• The book covers so many works that a casual reader might feel overwhelmed, losing some of their personal connection to the novels.

• She mostly focuses on American and British noir, leaving out contributions from Europe, Japan, and other regions.

• One notable oversight: she labels Frankenstein as a science fiction novel, when it is more accurately a horror classic—a small but telling example of where her categorization feels off.

Overall, Noir Thriller is an excellent resource for serious noir fans. Its academic tone might not appeal to everyone, but for readers like me who love the genre, it offers insights, context, and new ways to think about classic and modern noir alike.