I aften skal der ses film noir på det store lærred:

“I’ll When it came to picking the killer, you picked the wrong guy. You want to know who killed Dietrichson? Hold tight to that cheap cigar of yours, Keyes. I killed Dietrichson – me, Walter Neff, insurance salesman, 35 years old, unmarried, no visible scars… (He glances down at his shoulder wound.) – until a while ago, that is. Yes, I killed him. I killed him for money and for a woman. I didn’t get the money and I didn’t get the woman. Pretty, isn’t it?”

Vor Helts tilståelse pr. diktafon der indleder filmen. Filmen er Noir, når det er mest klichéagtigt – eller rettere dette er prototypen, som Noir-genren er gjort efter:
Vor Helt lader sig lokke ud i uføre & fordækt spil (lyst, mord & dobbeltspil) af Femme fatale, eller han vælger at gøre det (for hendes skyld) uden manipulation? Elsker hun ham mon, eller bliver hun forventeligt hans undergang, og hvem slår i sidste ende hvem ihjel?

Dialogerne er fantastisk absurde, som nu denne flirt:
Phyllis: Mr. Neff, why don’t you drop by tomorrow evening about eight-thirty. He’ll be in then.
Walter Neff: Who?
Phyllis: My husband. You were anxious to talk to him weren’t you?
Walter Neff: Yeah, I was, but I’m sort of getting over the idea, if you know what I mean.
Phyllis: There’s a speed limit in this state, Mr. Neff. Forty-five miles an hour.
Walter Neff: How fast was I going, officer?
Phyllis: I’d say around ninety.
Walter Neff: Suppose you get down off your motorcycle and give me a ticket.
Phyllis: Suppose I let you off with a warning this time.
Walter Neff: Suppose it doesn’t take.
Phyllis: Suppose I have to whack you over the knuckles.
Walter Neff: Suppose I bust out crying and put my head on your shoulder.
Phyllis: Suppose you try putting it on my husband’s shoulder.
Walter Neff: That tears it. [He takes his hat and briefcase after his advances are coldly rebuffed.] 8:30 tomorrow evening, then.
Phyllis: That’s what I suggested.
Walter Neff: You’ll be here too?
Phyllis: I guess so, I usually am.
Walter Neff: Same chair, same perfume, same anklet?
Phyllis: I wonder if I know what you mean.
Walter Neff: I wonder if you wonder.