I devote an entire chapter in my book about Spartacus. Coincidentally, my first glimpse of McGraw on screen was also as Marcellus, the brutal gladiator major domo; I saw the film when it came out in 1960, a most vivid impression.My first conscious awareness of Charles McGraw was in the film, Spartacus (1960), where he plays the "drill instructor"/head tormentor of the slaves in gladiatorial training. I understand that the making of this movie was rather contentious. Did McGraw like working on it? Was he disturbed by the firing, (or was it quitting?) of Anthony Mann, with whom he'd worked many times before? Did he have an opinion of the director who replaced him, Stanley Kubrick?
Spartacus was the most expensive film ever made in its day and there was a lot of contentiousness behind the scenes. Anthony Mann, who only used Jimmy Stewart (8 films) more than Charlie McGraw (6 films) was either fired or quit depending on which story that one chooses to believe and replaced by Stanley Kubrick.
Charlie's reaction to Mann's departure went unrecorded, but he was a professional actor used to bending with the proverbial breeze. I do know from Jean Simmons that everyone ended up respecting a young Stanley Kubrick who did a masterful job dealing with the colossal egos in the cast, most especially Kirk Douglas. McGraw was more than unhappy when Kirk Douglas broke his jaw during their fight sequence when Spartacus plunges Marcellus' head into a vat of soup and drowns him. Charlie had no love for Douglas (neither did most of the cast and crew) who he believed took advantage of the situation to treat him roughly and disrespectfully. Overall, though, it was a great part for McGraw and it reunited him with many of his stuntmen buddies that he drank with for years in the bars of Studio City.
2.)
I think it is absolutely true that people identify with the characters and situations in these movies. Certainly there is a sense of immersion in a story of a wronged person seeking to settle personal scores outside the law. In the world according to noir, the law is frequently an ambigious, bureaucratic or corrupt affair. What matters is the personal code of the protaganist attempting to square away a mess of a life ( Re: Mitchum in Out of the Past), discovering if the man she loves is really a cold blooded murderer (G.Grahame in In a Lonely Place) or risking all for love and being double crossed (B. Lancaster in Criss Cross). Frequently, the characters are compelled to act as they do, even if the ultimate price is fatally steep. In noir as in life, sometimes you start out being screwed... and then it goes downhill from there.A friend made an interesting comment to me recently. He asserted that Film Noir was an attempt to work out the problems inherent in being male in our society. Each gender finds a deep satisfaction in these types of films, especially in their bursts of violence, since they are a kind of wish fulfillment and a cri de coeur, even when characters seem to endure punishment for their actions. Do you see any truth in this?
3.)
Ambivalence at best. Remember who originated film noir. Without exception, the novelists and pulp writers were men along with most of the screenwriters (Lenore Coffee, Virginia Kellogg, Leigh Brackett are some notable exceptions). I don't think I need to explore the traditional male viewpoints of women as eye candy, fallen fruit or Suzy Homemaker during the mid 20th century. It is also important to remember that noir was a style in step with the prevailing culture. Expectations for women were different in 1945. However I think Mildred's "penalty" for following her own bent was dictated more by the prevailing societal mores and studio compliance with the Breen office than with latent stereotypes and sexism.Sometimes it seems that the attitude toward women in film noir seemed to liberate them from conventional behavior and demonize them, often simultaneously. While most of the time women are arm candy, or an opportunity for some not so innocent fun, when they start to think for themselves, they may wind up regretting it big time. For example, the Joan Crawford character in Mildred Pierce or The Damned Don't Cry eschews domesticity for power, (though of course, in Mildred's case it's her domestic skills that get her out of the kitchen). Naturally, she's also punished for trying to "escape" her destiny. Do you think that film noir had, at best, an ambivalence toward women?