Dahlia 4-Ever

The resilience of the 1947 Black Dahlia murder case is pretty astounding. With the 2003 publication of Steve Hodel’s controversial, intermittently convincing and occasionally unbelievable book, Black Dahlia Avenger, in which he points his finger at his own father as the murderer of Elizabeth Short, there has been another resurgence of articles, TV specials (Hodel was even on The View!). Next year, when James Ellroy’s novel, The Black Dahlia, finally makes it to the silver screen, interest will likely spike again. But, for my money, one of the more fascinating Dahlia-inspired cultural artifacts is the 1947project. Thanks to Molly Schranz for alerting me to the site, which posts daily news articles from Los Angeles papers from the year 1947. The blog’s mission statement:

Los Angeles in 1947 was a social powderkeg.  War-damaged returning soldiers were threatened by a new kind of independent female, who in turn found her freedoms disappearing as male workers returned to the factories.  These conflicts worked themselves out in dark ways.  The Black Dahlia is the most famous victim of 1947’s sex wars, but hardly the only one.  The 1947project seeks to document this pivotal year in L.A., through period reporting and visits to the scenes as they are today.

The site is addictive, filled with alternately creepy and Ed Wood-style humorous tales of post-WWII Los Angeles. Hyperlinks on every location mentioned in the news articles pinpoint the site for you on a Google map. You can also buy an admittedly gruesome Elizabeth Short t-shirt (“Elizabeth Short got a ride to 39th & Norton… and all I got was this dumb t-shirt!”). I have not indulged.

On the subject of 1947, I just enjoyed the new DVD package of Nightmare Alley (released in ’47).  If you don’t know it, it’s best described as carny noir, with Tyrone Power (finally getting to show his chops) starring as a sideshow barker-turned-hustler spiritualist.  The infamous "geek" scenes, which almost give Tod Browning’s Freaks a run for its money, are about as creepy as they come.  I just read the source novel by William Lindsey Gresham and it’s even more hard-edged and chilling–as well as filled with absorbing material about the mechanics of confidence games and . . . . psychoanalysis (makes me wonder if it was an influence on David Mamet’s House of Games).