We love the film noir cycle as a time capsule of social and aesthetic change in Hollywood. This poster for the 1981 version of The Postman Always Rings Twice signals that, once again, it’s time for a look at a film noir remake, a practice we’ve periodically indulged in with films such as Body Heat (original: Double Indemnity), Sharky’s Machine (Laura), and Against All Odds (Out of the Past). To an extent we can include Once You Kiss a Stranger in that group, though we don’t consider its progenitor Strangers on a Train a film noir. But close enough. This isn’t the more widely known Postman poster, but it’s the one we like best. More promos, as well as numerous production stills, appear below.
The Postman Always Rings Twice had been adapted to film in France in 1939 and Italy in 1943, but the 1946 version with Lana Turner and John Garfield was the first in English. The effort we’re discussing today (hereafter “new Postman“) stars Jack Nicholson and Jessica Lange as the ill-fated Frank and Cora from the 1946 version, and from James M. Cain’s 1934 source novel. The story should ring a few bells: a man of malleable morals crosses paths with a dissatisfied wife, the two fall into each other’s feverish clutches, but can’t openly be together without radical action. After weeks of illicitly being Jacked off, Jessica decides life would be much sweeter without her husband’s presence curtailing their passion. Murder seems to be the best option, but fate trips them up seemingly every step of the way—before and after the deed.
It’s universally agreed that new Postman is visually proficient. In the hands of director Bob Rafelson and legendary cinematographer Sven Nykvist, the stylings of film noir have been swapped for a dusty, WPA feel, like a Depression documentary in hazy 40-watt illumination. In terms of script, the story has been sanitized where needed. Old Postman entirely wiped out the racist provocations of James M. Cain’s novel; new Postman brings back its ethnic Greek backstory but makes sure the two leads don’t use ethnicity as a reason for murder. Other changes were made, all sensible, we think.
And new Postman goes in heavier on sexuality—how could it not, compared to a movie from the 1940s? Yet the film lacks a strong heartbeat, and fails to significantly upgrade or illuminate old Postman. Even the sexual focus is muted considering the possibilities of loosened 1980s censorship. Nicholson offers a bare ass; Lange shows nothing. Because we’re not puritans, prudes, or sexually embarrassed here at Pulp Intl., we unequivocally equate filmic eroticism with performer nudity. Acting out a fully clothed love scene intensely is not a substitute, in our view, for an honest exploration of the sexual obsession that would make a man risk high voltage death to murder another. We can only assume most moviegoers were disappointed too.
All that said, this is still a decent movie. Some things are immutable: Nicholson’s grittiness, Nykvist’s vision, Lange’s beauty, and Cain’s seedy imagination. As for retooling old noirs, we think, now decades after the ’80s remake wave washed across Hollywood, that the new versions are time capsules of their own, measuring the courageousness of filmmakers who got hold of once restricted material at a time when the possibilities for more challenging and emotionally honest productions were endless. Rafelson and Paramount Pictures wimped out, and Nicholson wasn’t remotely challenged by his role. But watching him work is always a pleasure. New Postman premiered today in 1981.
