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raveled during the making of the film, Van Upp had a close relationship with the actress, provided her a safe haven, mentored the star, and super-vised the writing of the project (by screenwriter Marion Parsonnet) while producing the picture. When compared to earlier gothic heroines (manu-factured and refined by małe filmmaking personnel such as Selznick and Hitchcock), women morę actively involved in such creative or executive po-sitions as writing or producing noir films—whether Turney coscripting Mildred Pierce, Brackett coscripting The Big Sleep, Harrison producing Phantom Lady, or Van Upp producing Gilda—contributed to morę fully de-veloped and unpredictable noir heroines who were morę complex and as-sertive (often nontraditional or career women) variations on the conven-tional femme fatale.

Gilda, Mildred Pierce, and Laura are female-centered noir stories that be-come sex melodramas within a małe crime milieu, where the central heroinę is surrounded by men who find her sexually attractive and consorts with many of them. Gilda is brazen, openly defiant, and cognizant of her own sexuality. She is irreverent in her active pursuit of her independence. As a dangerous femme, Gilda is deviant in using the power of her erotic female image to arouse and manipulate men for her own pleasure. She strives to be a “working girl,” pursuing a career singing, dancing, and performing striptease in a cabaret of wildly ecstatic małe patrons. Hayworth’s beauti-ful, strong-willed temptress iii Gilda is daringly aware of her female allure and boldly uses her sexuality to titillate and elicit applause. Hayworths performance—like her dangerous spider woman in Lady from Shanghai or Turner’s role in The Postman Always Rings Tmce—is a fine example of how classical Hollywood cinema sells fascinating gender roles codified as “małe threat” by the end of the war.

Despite her transgressive behavior, however, like the female gothic in-genue, Gilda is not evil or malicious but, instead, a victim of the abusive, violent men around her, entangled in a series of bizarre relationships that accentuate her gender distress. Openly rebellious rather than demure, Gilda does not behave like a typical bride or widów. Although she is married to Mundson, she taunts and tantalizes Johnny as he manages her husband’s il-legal business affairs and then agrees to wed her ex-flame when the king-pin is belieyed dead. Marital bliss is rather a wedded nightmare for Gilda as twisted intimate relations imprison her in these domestic unions. Like Mildred and Laura, Gilda transcends her diva sexuality and image as a femme who men desire, evolving into a sympathetic, multidimensional noir heroine. She is human, has flaws, and even exhibits self-destructive behav-ior. In Gilda Van Upp and Hayworth create a complex protagonist who si-

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multaneously embodies an independent woman, a victim, a redeemer, an active working girl pursuing a career of sorts (albeit interrupted by a vio-lent slap from her tormented tough-guy husband), and a sexual femme fa-tale wreaking havoc in men’s lives (as they battle their own demons). Ulti-mately defying lethal femme stereotypes, however, this dangerous classic noir woman has a heart. Gilda’s provocative and alluring image as ąuintes-sential 1940S femme fatale—like Hayworth’s famous wartime pinup poster—is ultimately all for show, an act, a masquerade to save her pride (and no doubt appease censors). Her sexual exploits are allegedly not for real, just meant to emotionally hurt her tormented beau, with whom she has a history. In the end Gilda actually turns out to be a “good girl” (despite her bad-girl image) who is less naive than other gothic redeemers (such as Fontaine in Suspicion), and morę comfortable with her own sexuality, but who ultimately tames her unruly independence, makes amends, and gets together with her man—in a noir finale where the Hollywood couple dis-appears into the dark.    V

Virginia Van Upp was a production executive at Columbia Pictures from 1945 to 1947. She began as a writer, scripting the 1938 Paramount gangster film You and Me, directed by Fritz Lang (with songs by Kurt Weill), and later the wartime Columbia musical Cover Girl (1944), starring Rita Hayworth and Gene Kelly. Van Upp “tailored” the female role in Cover Girl for Columbia^ star Hayworth', groomed the actress, and even organized her cos-tumes.⁴⁸ Moving on to producer ranks, she became a powerful female writer-producer, working with Hayworth at the studio. Van Upp eventually rosę as an executive to Columbia’s head of production for two years during, and after, the war. On January 7,1945, the New York Times noted: “This week Virginia Van Upp, the scenarist, will step into the position of execu-tive producer at Columbia ... Miss Van Upps new berth is considered to be the most important executive position yet for a woman at a major studio. She will have the over-all supervision of the preparation and actual filming of twelve to fourteen top-budget pictures to be madę by Columbia during the year. Working under her will be several associate producers—all men.”⁴⁹ The Hollywood Reporter elaborated on Van Upp’s executive promo-tion at Columbia, stating that the producer “will select stories, okay casting, and generally keep an eye on the biggest attractions the company will make. Needless to say the ‘woman’s angle’ will be kept in mind,” and this would “undoubtedly please exhibitors everywhere when they start count-ing the take. Women have long edited some of the nations most popular magazines, and their policy, in most instances, has upped circulątion and profits.”⁵⁰    \