The Misunderstood Femme Fatale of Detour

The common line on Detour (1945) is that it features one of the nastiest of femme fatales—a fascinating, feral creature. It’s true that Ann Savage as Vera is a powerhouse, and I can’t stop watching her. But is she really all that bad?

**Some plot reveals.***

So many reviewers skim over the incident that made Vera so raw in the first place. Yet to me, her reaction to that incident is what makes this B film worth watching. Can anyone honestly say they root for the sad-sack, self-pitying musician, Al Roberts (Tom Neal)?

What a dud this hero is. The movie is nothing until Vera enters the screen, and it’s nothing after she’s gone.

As far as her dangerousness, let’s review, shall we? Vera is a hitchhiker picked up by Charles Haskell Jr (Edmund MacDonald). We learn about her secondhand from Charles, who is complaining to his current passenger, Al, about the deep scratches on his hand. Charles says an “animal” inflicted the wounds on his body. “You know there ought to be a law against dames with claws,” he complains.

The reason for their disagreement is soon clear: “Give a lift to a tomato, you expect her to be nice, don’t you?….After all, what kind of dames thumb rides, Sunday school teachers?”

In other words, he thought she should be forced into sex with him because she must be that kind of girl. This dude felt entitled to rape her because she’s a hitchhiker. He assumes all men will agree with him (as Al does) that she’s nasty because she hurt him defending herself.

What’s intriguing—and unusual—about Detour for its time is that it gives voice to this assaulted woman. As soon as we meet Vera, we know she’s suffering from PTSD and doesn’t know how to manage her pain. Even Al, hardly an empath, says, “Man, she looked as if she’d just been thrown off the crummiest freight train in the world.”

Her angry words soon reveal that Charles is hardly the first man who has felt entitled to mistreat her: “I’ve been around,” she tells Al, looking at him intently, “and I know a wrong guy when I see one.”

That she lashes out at Al might be because of what she thinks he’s done—but it’s not the only reason.

Now Al is not the smartest dude, as Vera quickly realizes: “…You don’t have any brains.” He picks up a stranger right after he accidentally killed Charles and exchanged identities with him. If he were a smooth-talking liar, you could see him getting away with this move. If he were quick, you could see it too. But Al is not smooth. He is not quick. He is not smart. And he lies with all the skill of a toddler. He’s also unlucky because whom should he invite for a ride, but the only one who knows his identity is false? While many of his grievances are self imposed, it’s hard to argue with him that when it comes to encounters like his with Vera, fate was putting “out a foot to trip you.”

Vera’s instantly brutal to Al, whom she thinks killed her attacker. But she feels kinship with him too. She’s aiming for connection, an us-against-the-rich plan. She’s Bonnie and this idiot won’t be her Clyde. It pisses her off.

She wants him to recognize that they’re both presumed bad, that they don’t have a chance, so why not go for a con? Why not enjoy the advantages they have before everything goes to hell, as it certainly will, for people the deck is stacked against, like themselves? And when he won’t give in, she tries blackmail.

Her plan is not nice. She’s not nice. But I don’t find her nasty—even if some of her actions (and plans) are cruel. I find her tragic. She believes Charles’s wealth is part of what made him feel entitled to rape a poor girl, like her. She’s met a lot of men who act that way. Unfortunately, she didn’t find a man who could empathize with her suffering, or even enjoy a drink with her. She looked for something approximating an ally, and all she got was Al.

Oh Al. What a worthless character. He is a homme fatale BY ACCIDENT. He falls to pieces when a woman yells at him. He breaks into hives when he tries to sell a stolen car. Some theorize that he’s an unreliable narrator, deluding himself that he didn’t kill. Personally, I think he’s just deluded himself that his girlfriend wants him back. I don’t find Al’s psychology complex enough for any more sophisticated delusions.

But Vera? We lose her far too soon. If this film were the revenge fantasy this character deserves, she’d be living it up in Charles’s family mansion, smiling archly at the family as they bemoaned the loss of their heir.

“Oh yes,” she’d say, holding up champagne and affecting a snooty tone, “Wasn’t it a shame for Charles, all those women who did him wrong?”

This post is part of the Movies are Murder! blogathon hosted by the Classic Movie Blog Association (CMBA). Go check out all of the great entries.