From Noir to Neo-Noir (2025)

Though the ‘official’ film noir period ended more than 60 years ago, the enigmatic allure of noir endures, lingering like the smoke from a femme fatale’s cigarette. IMDB defines the classic film noir period of American cinema as beginning with the filmUnderworld(1927) and ending withTouch of Evil(1958), while many consider that John Houston’s The Maltese Falcon (1941), an adaptation of Dasheill Hammett’s hard-boiled detective novel, as launching the classic noir cycle. Classic noir is immediately recognisable for its characters: the brooding detective and sultry femme fatale; its themes of crime, corruption, and the seedy side of the big city; and its distinctive visual style, including a high-contrast black and white palette. With its categorisation – as genre/cycle/style – contested and argued over the ensuing years, noir nevertheless remains an essential part of our screen lexicon.

Neo-noir, a perceptible set of screen texts emerging after the classic noir era, has undergone its own rigorous contestation and evolution, with another distinct iteration, neon-noir, also emerging. Hybridisation of noir with other genres and styles has arguably always been around, and the range of texts that emerged beyond the classic era blend noir with everything from horror in Psycho(1960), science fiction inBlade Runner(1982), dark comedy in Fargo (1996), to the Western in Mystery Road(2013).

Whilst the visual features of noir are an integral part of its appeal, we must not forget that its literary roots run deep and have continued to proliferate; classic film noir arose from the novels of Hammett and Raymond Chandler, Nordic Noir had its literary roots in books from Henning Mankell and Stieg Larssen, and Australian (or ‘Outback’) Noir has emerged as a crime fiction juggernaut, with several adaptations making their way to big and small screens.

On television, Nordic Noir is in its third decade of taking the world by storm, and its influence can be traced across other national noir texts, such as the UK’s Broadchurch (2013-2017). High-quality noir-inspired productions continue to appear on streaming services, such as Netflix’s limited seriesRipley(2024), shot in sumptuous black and white. Genre hybridisation is also evident on the small screen, including quirky comedy and supernatural themes in Twin Peaks(1990-1, 2017), an influential network success with a streaming sequel, and comedy in Amazon’s Aussie hit Deadloch (2023-).

It is not the aim of this issue of M/C Journal on noir to define or redefine noir, as this is an argument no one can win, and in fact the argument itself can be ruled redundant. Rather, our authors interrogate iterations of noir from its classic roots to more recent hybridisations. Across the media of film, television, and literary fiction, these articles investigate how noir intersects with such diverse genres as the Western, children’s fiction, comedy, horror, superhero films, and documentary. Recognising the multi-faceted nature of noir, articles explore noir tropes evident in themes, characters, and style. Having broken free of its American-centric (and city-bound) classic roots decades ago, national iterations of noir continue to spread and hybridise, and continued academic and popular interest in noir is fed by its ever-changing, ever-growing oeuvre. Noir, as evident in this edition, is both instantly recognisable and generically slippery.

Tess Ezzy’s article “Black Widow: Unravelling Noir Characterisation in Charlotte’s Web’s Femme Fatale” explores the unexpected parallels between E.B. White's Charlotte’s Web and the thematic and stylistic elements of film noir. While the novel has long been celebrated as a staple of children’s literature for its exploration of friendship, mortality, and the cycles of life, this article reveals how it also delves into moral ambiguity, agency, and survival when viewed through a noir lens. Central to this analysis is spider Charlotte A. Cavatica, who embodies the femme fatale archetype: intelligent, manipulative, and morally complex. Charlotte’s actions align with the classic femme fatale, blending altruism with strategic deception to subvert oppressive systems and ensure survival. The barnyard, too, serves as a noir-like microcosm, where idyllic appearances mask existential dilemmas and ethical compromises. Characters such as Templeton, the self-interested yet essential ally, and Wilbur, the passive protagonist wrestling with existential dread, reflect a broader exploration of morally grey spaces, collective survival, and the consequences of agency. Through this lens, the article argues that Charlotte’s Web transcends its pastoral genre, weaving themes of deception, fatalism, and ethical complexity typically associated with noir into a sophisticated narrative suitable for all ages.

The article “All the Pretty Noir Horses: The Myth of the Horse in the Noir Western” by Huw Nolan, Jenny Wise, and Nathan Wise explores how Cormac McCarthy’s 1992 novel All the Pretty Horses combines elements of noir and the Western, creating a hybrid that subverts both genres. The study uses Barthes’s theory of myth to analyse how horses function as symbolic constructs, embodying tensions between freedom and control, nostalgia and progress. It argues that horses fulfill a dual role, both as romanticised icons of the cowboy ethos and as agents of entrapment that underscore noir’s fatalism. The analysis situates the novel within a landscape of industrial encroachment, where the Western’s rugged individualism and pastoral ideals degrade under the forces of modernity. Horses represent these collapsing ideals, reflecting humanity’s contradictory yearning for unspoiled nature while simultaneously exploiting it. The article also reimagines noir’s femme fatale through the mythic allure of horses, which, like the femme fatale, lead protagonists into cycles of desire, conflict, and inevitable suffering. For protagonist John Grady Cole, his idealised connection to horses intensifies his entanglement in violence and loss, underscoring noir’s themes of disillusionment and constrained agency.

In an in-depth analysis of The Batman (2022) in “Becoming the Shadows: A Gothic Noir Reading of Empathy, Psychopathy and Anti-Heroism in The Batman (2022)”, Tracey Woolrych and Chris Comerford situate the film at the intersection of gothic and noir genres. Unlike previous cinematic portrayals of the character, Robert Pattinson’s Batman is depicted as a morally ambiguous anti-hero, whose violent actions and psychological complexities reflect both noir’s archetypal hard-boiled detective and gothic tropes of trauma and monstrosity. They argue the film’s aesthetic evokes a dark, crime-ridden Gotham where Batman operates as a conflicted vigilante, alienated from societal acceptance yet driven by an overwhelming sense of justice. This iteration emphasises his psychological distress—rooted in the trauma of his parents’ murder—and explores his efforts to channel personal pain into his crusade for justice, which blurs the line between heroism and pathology. Through a psychological lens, the article considers Batman’s dark traits, analysing his aggressive tendencies, emotional compartmentalisation, and bouts of empathy, which align him with characteristics of both psychopathy and what researchers term the ‘dark empath’. Batman’s emotional detachment is seen as a protective mechanism but also as a source of tension, driving his actions and shaping his isolated persona. Further, the article contrasts Batman with the Riddler, highlighting how the film draws parallels between the two as different manifestations of violence and trauma, further complicating the dichotomy of good versus evil. Pattinson’s Batman is viewed as a complex, liminal figure who challenges traditional notions of noir anti-heroes and gothic protagonists. The authors conclude that this interpretation contributes to a richer understanding of the character and the interplay between trauma, heroism, and morality in contemporary storytelling.

Kaela Joseph’s article “Gays Burying Ourselves: Immersive and Subversive Uses of Neon Noir in I Saw the TV Glow” examines Jane Schoenburn’s 2024 I Saw the TV Glow (ISTTVG), a psychological sci-fi/horror film that uses neon-noir techniques to craft a compelling allegory for the queer experience, centring themes of internalised heteronormativity, identity concealment, and psychological liberation. The article considers the act of self-burial – both metaphorically and literally – as a complex, unsettling process of identity reclamation, tying it to queer struggles of ego death and authenticity. Drawing on noir elements – such as expressionist cinematography, morally ambiguous characters, and grim, suffocating settings – the film, for the authors, shifts traditional noir paradigms into uniquely queer territory, reimagining familiar tropes and fears through a subversive lens. Unlike traditional noir, ISTTVG trades urban landscapes for the banality of the suburban, capturing the stifling mundanity associated with heteronormative conformity. While neon-noir typically relies on cityscapes and artificial light to evoke unease, the article posits that Schoenburn shifts this tension to televisions, projectors, and other nostalgic imagery, blurring the comforting glow of serialised television with undertones of disquiet and despair. Both the setting and cinematography invoke queer temporality, suggesting a simultaneous suspension and urgency of time, reflecting the queer experience of navigating identity within societal constraints, which along with the characters complicate traditional noir archetypes.

“Who Will Control the Black Bird? Influence and Power Bases in The Maltese Falcon” is an intricate examination of power dynamics and influence tactics used by the characters in the source novel and film adaptation of The Maltese Falcon. Drawing on the noir aesthetic, Gordon Schmidt and Clint Martin consider a morally ambiguous world rife with deception and manipulation, where no one can claim true legitimacy or complete control over the prized artifact. Central to classic noir, the characters navigate a shadowy environment of mistrust, ethical compromises, and blurred morality, consistent with the genre's themes of power struggles and individual ambition. The article explores these dynamics through frameworks of positional and personal power, illustrating how the noir setting forces characters to depend on manipulation, negotiation, and influence to navigate a treacherous moral landscape. It highlights how the interplay of power and character motivations not only drives the narrative but also reflects the pessimistic, ruthless worldview inherent to noir. By analysing the transactional and tension-filled relationships through the lens of power, the article deepens our understanding of the genre’s thematic focus on human vulnerability, corruption, and the elusiveness of control in a world bound by chaos.

L. Dugan Nichols argues in “Generational Detectives: Documentary Noir, Millennials, and Conspiracy on Netflix “ that the streamer’s American Conspiracy: The Octopus Murders (2024) represents the intersecting evolution of noir storytelling, conspiracy theories, and Millennial generational anxiety. It applies the dark, paranoid tropes of film noir to the documentary format while weaving in themes of disillusionment with systemic power structures, raising questions of murder, corruption, and obfuscated truths. The series’ investigative photojournalist mirrors the archetype of a noir detective, immersed in an indifferent, malevolent world where answers remain elusive, and suspicion infects all interactions. The article argues that beyond its surface as a true-crime mystery, the documentary reflects a larger generational narrative, portraying Millennials grappling with the fallout of inherited neoliberal policies, growing economic inequality, and political disillusionment in the wake of events like 9/11 and the 2008 financial crisis. The noir aesthetic – labyrinthine plotting, dramatic sprawl, unresolved endings, and deep societal mistrust – here serves as both a narrative device and a lens through which Millennial anxieties about their precarious world are refracted. Within the broader cultural landscape, American Conspiracy fits into a subculture of podcasts and online communities that use conspiracies to dissect historical and contemporary abuses of power, creating new digital noirs for a disenchanted generation.

Noir has often been defined by its urban roots, where shadowy streets and towering cityscapes mirror the moral ambiguity and despair at the genre's core. However, noir is not confined to the chaos of the metropolis, as we find in André Francisco’s article “’Small town, big hell’: Noir and Landscape in Mare of Easttown (2018)”. Francisco examines noir themes – corruption, entrapment, and moral decay – and finds they have equally compelling expression in small towns, where intimacy and familiarity amplify tension. The idyllic façade of the small town, steeped in myths of American wholesomeness, often obscures its shared secrets, crumbling morality, and collective complicity. In this context, the TV series Mare of Easttown offers a striking contemporary example, reinterpreting noir’s aesthetic and thematic template within the confines of a suburban American community. Visually, Mare of Easttown adapts noir’s shadow-laden cityscapes into muted greys and desolate suburban landscapes. The decayed houses, barren roads, and dimly lit interiors evoke a sense of suffocating inevitability. Here, wide-open spaces paradoxically feel as restrictive as noir’s urban labyrinths, mirroring a community where violence and despair thrive not in isolation but in the oppressive closeness of intergenerational ties. Crimes in Easttown, such as domestic violence, sexual assault, and child abuse, are not random but products of a deeply broken environment. Justice is elusive, complicated by a network of relationships where everyone is implicated in some way. Like the back alleys of the noir city, Easttown itself becomes a character, embodying the moral decay noir thrives upon.

Completing this issue, Kai Qing Tan examines Yeo Siew Hua’s A Land Imagined (2018), a Singaporean noir film, to explore its commentary on migrant labourers’ exploitation, alienation, and the reification of individuals within the neoliberal, glocalised structure of Singapore. Titled “Negative Affects in the Dark Intervals of A Land Imagined”, the discussion focusses on the film’s use of ‘dark intervals’ – liminal spaces like cybercafés, highways, and reclaimed lands – to evoke moments of reflection, personal transformation, and the acknowledgment of marginalised lives. The film disrupts viewers’ preconceived notions, invoking reflective empathy by immersing them in the dreams, struggles, and vulnerabilities of the migrant workers. Visual motifs such as red lights and reclaimed land symbolise Singapore’s unceasing development, achieved at the expense of these labourers’ invisibility and systemic exploitation. In its poetic and ambivalent ending, A Land Imagined juxtaposes the characters’ pursuit of freedom with viewers’ passive observance, asking them to assess their own complicity in the societal dynamics it critiques. It concludes by emphasising the potential of non-Western noir, such as this Singaporean film, to expose hidden injustices and reimagine societal attitudes, calling for more scholarly focus on global noir traditions as tools for critical empathy and inclusive community-building.

Acknowledgment

The editors of this issue would like to thank M/C Journal, the peer reviewers, and the Popular Culture Research Network (popcrn.org) for their support of contemporary popular culture research.

Author Biographies