We may tend to think that Hollywood was built on the big-budget spectacle, put together by masterful craftsmen that had strong directorial vision, and guide by the watchful eye of the tyrannical producers that kept them on the straight and narrow. However, what we soon come to realize after a while is that, while important, few of these films were as influential as the B-movie, which is just as essential to the construction of the modern film industry as those that nearly bankrupted studios – and considering a lot of these other films were made by studios that were teetering on the edge of bankruptcy themselves, there is poetic justice in seeing them succeed in ways that their more bombastic counterparts never could. One such film is Detour, which has been elevated to cult status, becoming one of the most widely-embraced films of Hollywood’s first few decades. Based on the novel by Martin Goldsmith, who adapted it alongside Martin Mooney, and directed by Edgar G. Ulmer in what was clearly a very restricted production, the film has somehow become one of the most definitive of an era that is almost entirely defined by major productions – and almost as if it were some perverse joke, the one that went against nearly all such principles is the most interesting of them all. An iconic work of both early Hollywood independent filmmaking (decades before it would be embraced), and an early entry into a genre that was still finding its footing at the time, Detour has been suitably reappraised as a masterpiece in many circles, and has continued to grow in the estimation of viewers across generations, and has somehow managed to influence more filmmakers than many other productions, which is the most endearing aspect of this film and its reputation as a whole.

What we often find with B-movies (as well as the rise of independent film, which emerged almost as a direct result of these films) is that, even at their cheapest, they often aim to create a scenario in which they’re trying to convince us that they had access to the same resources as much bigger films. This is far from the case with Detour, which was produced by Producers Releasing Corporation, as a studio that made it very clear that they were working from a limited set of resources, being one of the many examples of the Poverty Row film studios that depended on a few measly dollars and the ambition of some audacious young filmmakers to have their work produced, which is an intriguing chapter in Hollywood history (if one can even consider this as being part of Hollywood, rather than adjacent to it). Leaning into the restrictions on the film was smart, since there is nothing particularly daring about Detour on a visual level, so acknowledging a few of its limitations allows us to know exactly what to anticipate, only to have our expectations shattered by the realization that Ulmer made a genuinely brilliant work that is as influential to modern cinema as any other film that far more expensive, and is actually far more entertaining. This is a truly transfixing film, with some of the most genuinely nightmarish imagery contrasting with the screenplay, which may contain an abundance of cliched adages we normally associate with this kind of hardboiled crime drama, but yet is still extraordinarily riveting if we can suspend disbelief and just peer into this bleak, harrowing world that Ulmer seems to be so invested in creating, which gives Detour its distinctly nihilistic tone which has become just about as iconic as the film itself, an unexpected (although not unwelcome) surprise for the first-time viewer.

Looking back, it’s difficult to find much fault in Detour – this is a good example of a cheaply-made film still having merit, based solely on the narrative. It helps that the story is quite good all on its own – for instance, the plot is kept extremely simple, with the premise of a wayward pianist fleeing after the accidental death of a stranger in his presence, only to encounter a sinister young woman who knows his secrets, is a good starting point for this insidiously brilliant little independent drama – and many have called this one of the most important entries into the film noir genre, which is an intriguing concept, especially since many of these films were made with a very distinct style, which is exactly what Ulmer is protesting against here, despite the genre still being somewhat in its infancy, long before the more subversive works started to emerge. Yet, this is the beauty of purely independent films, since they’re given free-reign to critique and dismantle even the most cherished of standards without much risk of major consequences – after all, there are very few stakes in a film without any major stars or big investment from producers who treat the industry like nothing more than a business. The more artistically charged a film is, the more it takes the form of a game of chance, and Detour certainly does not deviate from this in any notable way, becoming a simple but expertly-crafted psychological thriller that uses its genre well, never depending on it to be fully realized, but knowing how to utilize certain elements in a way that is refreshing and interesting, predating many of the more intentionally subversive films that would be created to challenge these same conventions.

While it is true that Detour does not feature any actors of note (at least at the time), the film does contain a pair of incredible performances, which once again proves that the best artists are often those who reside just out of view, and that obscurity can sometimes be a blessing for some actors, since they’re able to make a mark on film history without carrying the burden of being a part of an industry that can be extremely cutthroat, especially at this particular moment in time. Tom Neal is a remarkably capable lead – while his personal life may have been mired with hardship and tragedy in later years, he is rightfully remembered mostly as the lead of this film, possessing the exact kind of raw, masculine energy required to play this character. It’s a challenging role, but not one that the actor is incapable of working with, especially since there’s a level of detail to his performance that is quite intriguing, and which a more polished actor may have struggled to convey. He is joined by Ann Savage, who enters into the film at the midway point, but becomes one of the most unforgettable aspects of it – from her first moment, she is absolutely spellbinding, her commitment to the role being absolutely incredible, and proving (much like with Neal) that casting a relative newcomer, or rather one who worked almost exclusively in B-movies, was an incredibly wise and interesting decision, since they bring an authenticity to the proceedings that is difficult to ignore, especially in the more brutal moments, which classically trained actors may have fumbled through not realizing the true darkness that lurks beneath these characters.

Detour may have been made by a studio that obliquely referenced its limitations, but it was not in any way a bad film, and while it lacked resources, it more than makes up for them through sheer audacity. Ulmer is not a director who is widely acclaimed despite having made dozens of films, nearly all of them low-budget B-movies that indicated a director who was more than content to work in this realm, rather than aspiring to greener pastures. In many ways, Detour is one of the only reasons we even know him in the first place, since none of his other films outside of The Black Cat made over a decade previously had earned the supposed “The King of PRC” much of a reputation. However, if you are going to be remembered for one film, at least make sure it is something as memorable as Detour, which possesses such a unique and uncompromising energy, it seems almost inexplicable that it isn’t more widely appreciated, since it contains so many iconic details that have been copied (whether intentionally or by pure coincidence) in several later works. Fascinating in concept, brilliant in delivery, there’s very little room to truly criticize Detour, which is undeniably a film that knows what it wants to be, and has the self-awareness to know its boundaries, but still finds a way to challenge them anyway, which is what makes it such a tremendously entertaining, but oddly terrifying, work of early film noir, a genre that owes a lot of credit to this film and its undying dedication to showing the darkest recesses of humanity.