10/08/06: CAT PEOPLE (Jacques Tourneur, 1942) ***1/2
The first film in a series of 9 low-budget horror classics, produced by Val Lewton at RKO, manages to be effortlessly eerie: the curiously prophetic sketch; the scene in the pet shop; the ‘cat woman’ at the wedding party (played by Elizabeth Russell, who would eventually return for the sequel – THE CURSE OF THE CAT PEOPLE [1944] – but in a different role!); the bird’s death at the hands of the doomed heroine (in which she goes from innocent playfulness to being ridden with guilt); the simple yet stunning hallucination sequence; the girl turning her frustration onto the sofa, tearing it with her fingernails as a cat would. Besides, the two major stalking sequences are still effective after several viewings – with the swimming-pool set-piece inspired by an incident in director Tourneur’s own life; but so are the two scenes involving a genuinely prowling panther (the film, in fact, can be seen as an alternative take on the werewolf myth): mainly it’s done suggestively – being, in essence, a study in sexual frigidity – and was intended to be happening all in the heroine’s disturbed psyche (but commercial minds prevailed!). Other assets are to be found in De Witt Bodeen’s smart dialogue and the thoughtful performances – suitably enigmatic yet enticing Simone Simon, likeable Kent Smith, sexy but complex ‘other woman’ Jane Randolph (the film carries a subtle yet potent erotic subtext) and suavely shady Tom Conway.
While we all love the coziness and the sheer entertainment value that the Universal horrors provide (particularly during their second coming), it’s undeniably refreshing to be able to get a soupçon of intelligence along with the fun and the cheaply yet professionally-crafted atmosphere – Tourneur, here on his first significant assignment (and first great film), was assisted by legendary cameraman Nicholas Musuraca, resident RKO composer Roy Webb and editor Mark Robson (soon to be promoted to director under the aegis of Lewton himself!). In fact, having just gone through a number of Mexican horror films (and, particularly, trash like THE BRAINIAC [1962] and NIGHT OF THE BLOODY APES [1969]), watching something like CAT PEOPLE couldn’t fail to be an infinitely rewarding experience
…and, though I was initially somewhat wary of having to go through the Val Lewton films in quick succession (since I had previously watched all but three of them a number of times), I began to look forward to experiencing them all over again – particularly with the wealth of supplements that Warners saw fit to shower their Box Set!
The transfer, however, is disappointing – displaying as it does a surprising amount of damage! Greg Mank’s Audio Commentary is quite good at exploring the symbolism throughout the film and detailing behind-the-scenes anecdotes, as well as biographical data for the cast and crew – though his clipped delivery does rather necessitate the listener’s full attention (ditto for the few interventions by the film’s late star Simone Simon, given her heavy accent)!
10/09/06: I WALKED WITH A ZOMBIE (Jacques Tourneur, 1943) ***1/2
Val Lewton and Jacques Tourneur’s follow-up to CAT PEOPLE (1942) may not be as readily enjoyable – leaving some rabid genre fans underwhelmed as well – but, if anything, it’s even more complex and mature (Tourneur himself considered it the best film he ever made): while Kent Smith was essentially bland, here we have two rather dark male leads in Tom Conway and James Ellison (both of whom turn in fine performances far beyond their usual standards); in fact, characterization is very well thought out all the way (considering it’s a B horror piece barely over an hour in length!).
Frances Dee makes for a very sympathetic heroine, while Edith Barrett gives another multi-layered portrayal as Conway and Ellison’s mother (the two men are half-brothers) who herself bears a guilty conscience; Sir Lancelot is a native troubadour who sings a haunting tune – actually reprised in the 1945 spoof ZOMBIES ON BROADWAY, co-starring Bela Lugosi! – about the zombie ‘plague’ and its connection to Conway, Ellison and Christine Gordon (as Conway’s ‘afflicted’ wife). The creepy-looking Darby Jones also makes an undeniable impression as the zombie guardian Carrefour (and even returned for the aforementioned ZOMBIES ON BROADWAY).
J. Roy Hunt’s
noir-ish cinematography is masterly throughout (particularly its penchant to shoot through venetian blinds), allowing for several effective sequences: Frances Dee being stalked first by Christine Gordon and then by Darby Jones (who mistakes her for Gordon, because she’s wearing her nightgown – as picked up in the perceptive Audio Commentary by the ultra-enthusiastic Kim Newman and Stephen Jones, this actually symbolizes Dee’s having taken Gordon’s place in Tom Conway’s affections!); the celebrated title sequence leading up to the zombie rituals; and the tragically poetic finale.
It’s regrettable that, following George A. Romero’s NIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD (1968), all zombie films presented the creatures as flesh eaters since the early examples of the genre, motivated by voodoo – as here but also (to name just the landmark titles) WHITE ZOMBIE (1932), THE PLAGUE OF THE ZOMBIES (1966), and even the superb Bob Hope spoof THE GHOST BREAKERS (1940) – gave the monsters an eerie, quasi-mystical quality that was eventually largely eradicated! The script of this film (co-written by Curt Siodmak) is actually an interesting transposition in straight horror terms of Charlotte Bronte’s popular and oft-filmed gothic romance “Jane Eyre”. The Audio Commentary (given the great fun that this track proved to be, I look forward to listening to other Newman/Jones Commentaries such as – all R2 exclusives – THE OLD DARK HOUSE [1932; I actually brought it forward in my Halloween schedule because of this!], COUNTESS DRACULA [1971], HANDS OF THE RIPPER [1971], THE MEDUSA TOUCH [1978] and THE DEAD ZONE [1983]) also mentions a number of deleted scenes which were shot but, presumably, haven’t survived; still, in its current compact form, the film could hardly be improved upon!
10/10/06: THE LEOPARD MAN (Jacques Tourneur, 1943) ***
Apart from its classic murder sequences (particularly the first with its bloody pay-off), this one has an original, audacious structure (criticized at the time because it
was not understood) with the narrative following minor characters every once in a while and veering off into seemingly unrelated subplots – a half-century prior to Tarantino’s would-be seminal PULP FICTION (1994), but also Luis Bunuel’s THE PHANTOM OF LIBERTY (1974)!!
Dennis O’Keefe is a wonderful lead as the sleuth figure; in fact, the film is actually more of a thriller since the murders do not have a basis in the supernatural (as was the case with the previous two Lewton/Tourneur collaborations). Though Jean Brooks is ostensibly the heroine, Margo is given more screen-time and her role is a lot more interesting: her performance as the doomed
artiste – frequently resorting to her fortune-teller friend Isabel Jewell, who unfailing turns up the death card! – is quite moving. James Bell underplays his pivotal role as the musuem curator/animal expert (which is similar to the brief doctor part he essayed in I WALKED WITH A ZOMBIE [1943]); also fine is Abner Biberman as the owner of the escaped leopard, who blacks out during his frequent drinking binges and thinks he may be the murderer.
The small-town atmosphere is brilliantly captured on a studio set (marred only by some corny elements in the script intended to accentuate the local color, such as the over-use of Margo’s castanets – to the point where they even become a motif – or the birthday song delivered to the second victim of the titular creature…but, especially, the infuriatingly stupid mother of the little girl – who bullies her innocent and fearful daughter to an early grave!); the ‘outdoor’ climax, then, is given an added touch of strangeness by taking place in the midst of a procession headed by a group of caped villagers!
Curiously, both the Leslie Halliwell and Leonard Maltin film guides give the running-time as a mere 59 minutes; however, the two times I’ve watched the film, it’s always been by way of the full-length 66-minute version! William Friedkin’s Audio Commentary is a good listen, despite his tendency to describe the on-screen action (though almost always accentuated by his own interpretation of events); this was his favorite among the Lewton horrors – and, in fact, it’s very much underrated among fans but, personally, I loved it immediately!
10/11/06: THE SEVENTH VICTIM (Mark Robson, 1943) ***1/2
This had been one of the most elusive of Lewton’s classic horror films and, in fact, I only first caught up with it a couple of years ago on Italian TV (where it was dubbed, of course). While I recall being very impressed with it then I only rated it a *** and, given that I boosted the rating now, one would naturally assume that I loved it even more; however, the film’s low-key nature doesn’t make it ideal viewing after a long day’s work – but, then, Steve Haberman’s excellent Audio Commentary proved quite enlightening (pointing out some of the subtleties I might have missed) so that, by the time I was done with the DVD, I felt that I had ‘got’ it sufficiently to merit that extra half a star
!
As with the first three entries (after which a change of director was ordered by RKO – but, then, he had to fight for first-timer Mark Robson!), the film basically revolves around a number of highly-charged and brilliantly-handled suspense sequences: the walk down the dark corridor of the cosmetics shop (the firm is pretentiously named “La Sagesse”, meaning Wisdom) where an opportunistic but sympathetic pint-sized detective meets his doom; a Hitchcockian scene aboard a train; the shower sequence in which a member of the devil cult bursts in on lead Kim Hunter, warning her not to get involved any further (though entirely different in development, this could well be the cinematic fore-runner of the legendary scene in PSYCHO [1960]!); yet another walk across a dark alley with a threat to one of the characters which could come at any moment and from any corner.
The film is undercast, but effectively so: Kim Hunter is impressive in her debut performance; her two suitors, however, are rather too fey – though the poet character is, at least, intriguing (if giving rise to a decidedly over-literate script, already peppered with Lewton’s typically pretentious quotations!); Tom Conway actually reprises his role from CAT PEOPLE (1942), making it one of cinema’s first examples of a prequel – since his character died in the earlier movie!; Jean Brooks – writer/director Richard Brooks’ wife – was a somewhat vapid heroine in THE LEOPARD MAN (1943), but this quality (accentuated by her dark wig, which is every bit as iconic as the one sported by Louise Brooks in PANDORA’S BOX [1928] and
must have inspired Uma Thurman’s look in Tarantino’s would-be seminal
PULP FICTION [1994]) actually fitted like a glove her enigmatic and nihilistic character here! Even though the latter does not make an appearance before the 30-minute mark of this 71-minute film – and she only has about 10 minutes of actual screen-time in all! – her presence permeates the entire movie, much like Orson Welles’ Harry Lime would in THE THIRD MAN (1949).
Though, at first glance, the devil cult may not seem particularly sinister (apart from their leader, Ben Bard) the scene where they finally catch up with Brooks and attempt to induce her to suicide is superbly done; then again, its depiction of Satanists as normal people who lead normal social lives anticipated ROSEMARY’S BABY (1968) by a quarter of a century! The script also manages to sneak in several allusions to lesbianism (which are there for anyone who cares to pick them up); certainly an unusual emphasis for the time. It also features one of the bleakest endings to any film (particularly coming from a Hollywood studio product!), featuring yet another brief but haunting turn from Elizabeth Russell as a dying woman; even though I was aware of how it was all going to end, it still took my breath away (the closing lines – from a sonnet by John Donne – are unforgettable and among the greatest ever, in my opinion)!
The Audio Commentary (perhaps the finest in this Box Set) goes into some detail about deleted footage that expanded on the interesting relationship in the film between Conway and the young poet, and also between Conway and a one-armed member of the cult (whose role is severely diminished in the final film!); as a matter of fact, Conway’s motives here are even more obscure than in CAT PEOPLE: he’s seen as a prominent figure at the parties given by the devil-worshippers, and yet it’s because Brooks spilled the beans to him that the latter want her dead (he, meanwhile, seems intent on harboring her despite his cynical veneer)! Haberman also mentions the efforts of British film-makers to watch THE SEVENTH VICTIM in wartime (American films of this era only reached foreign shores after the end of WWII!) – among them the Boulting Brothers, Carol Reed and Michael Powell (the last, according to DVD Savant but which I can well believe, since Kim Hunter was cast in the added subplot for the alternate U.S. version of The Archers’ A CANTERBURY TALE [1944]!) – and a hilarious anecdote of scenarist De Witt Bodeen (the script was co-written with Charles O’Neal, father of actor Ryan!) attending a real devil-worship meeting in which harmless-looking old ladies cast terrible spells on Hitler while nonchalantly sipping tea!! The theory of doubles he comes up with is interesting, too, if one I hadn’t actually picked on myself; regrettably, however, the Commentary omits biographical data for cast and crew members, which is usually thorough for even the minor characters (as I would have liked to know more, for instance, about the actors who memorably played the ill-fated detective and an old newspaper woman – despite their limited screen-time).
10/12/06: THE GHOST SHIP (Mark Robson, 1943) ***
The least ‘horrific’ of Lewton’s films (the title is certainly misleading) and, for this reason, generally the least appreciated – though the fact that it remained unseen for decades due to accusations of plagiarism(!) didn’t help matters. However, it’s conistently interesting and, naturally, highly atmospheric; the film is also notable for being largely set in one location, as well as for utilizing voice-over from a lesser character (a mute, played by the cadaverous Skelton Knaggs, acting as a sort of Chorus throughout but who is instrumental during the climax).
Again, Lewton and Robson make the most of their second-rate cast – beginning with a ripe performance from lead Richard Dix (he was a Silent star who had achieved his greatest success with the original version of CIMARRON [1931; a Best Picture Oscar winner which I’ve had on VHS for a good number of years but have yet to watch!], so that his presence here is surprising – if also a typically offbeat touch by Lewton – but the film did lead him to “The Whistler”, a series of 7 low-budget thrillers which I’ve always been intrigued by); especially good, as ever, is Edith Barrett (at the time, Mrs. Vincent Price!) in the film’s solitary female role; Sir Lancelot, who appeared with Barrett in I WALKED WITH A ZOMBIE (1943), is one of the seamen but his role here is largely undistinguished; hero Russell Wade is okay under the circumstances (he had played a bit part in THE LEOPARD MAN [1943] and would eventually appear as Henry Daniell’s young assistant in THE BODY SNATCHER [1945]) – his role is interesting in that he suspects ship’s captain Dix of being unbalanced and a homicidal maniac after his own blood and, while being ‘trapped’ with him at sea, can’t bring himself to convince the rest of the crew to his point of view (a situation which creates some genuine tension throughout)!
However, as a result of having no end titles attached to it (a direct contrast to the neverending ones for today’s films!), there’s a regrettable omission in mentioning significant characters like the one played by the legendary Lawrence Tierney!! With this in mind, it’s all the more unfortunate that no Audio Commentary was recorded for the film…
10/13/06: THE CURSE OF THE CAT PEOPLE (Gunther V. Fritsch and Robert Wise, 1944) ***1/2
Knowing it wasn’t really a horror film, I had missed out on this on Italian TV; then, when it was released on PAL VHS, I kind of purchased it so as to go along with the other Lewtons that had been released up to that time…but, when I finally sat down to watch it, I was very much impressed with the film and was, naturally, surprised to find it so compelling – to say nothing of unusual! In fact, the film is a delicate psychological fantasy largely seen from a child’s viewpoint – and a highly original one at that.
Kent Smith and Jane Randolph reprise their roles from CAT PEOPLE (1942) but take a back seat to their daughter (Ann Carter) – who, distressingly, is beginning to display some of the perplexing traits which had afflicted her father’s tragic first wife (Simone Simon – who also returns here, appearing as the child’s imaginary friend)! The cast also highlights former Silent-screen star Julia Dean (as an eccentric old lady whom Carter befriends) and, also from CAT PEOPLE, Elizabeth Russell (as Dean’s long-suffering daughter, unrecognized by her dotty parent and understandably jealous of Carter’s ‘stolen’ affection); Sir Lancelot also features as the sympathetic manservant in the Smith/Randolph household.
Simon’s mystical appearances are economically but effectively rendered by means of light and shadow; despite her top-billing, she appears very little (but, as was the case with Jean Brooks in THE SEVENTH VICTIM [1943], her presence is felt constantly throughout) and, unfortunately, seems to look down on the film as an unwarranted sequel mandated by the studio (though it ended up being nothing like what they had expected!) – as opposed to CAT PEOPLE, for which she remained grateful to Lewton her entire life!! The latter, on the other hand, was more involved than on virtually any other of his films: the project was very personal to Lewton, being largely inspired by his own troubled childhood (as well as the producer’s love/hate relationship with his own daughter – who, eerily, died of her father’s same ailment at the exact same age!).
The film was started by documentarist Gunther von Fritsch but his extremely slow progress saw him quickly ousted and replaced by former editor Robert Wise; Lewton was evidently pleased with the end product (though he continued to ache over the film’s climax and eventually ordered a complete rewrite – the strain, however, landed the producer in hospital!), and Wise was subsequently engaged to direct the period drama MADEMOISELLE FIFI (1944; also with Simone Simon) and Lewton’s next horror outing – and acknowledged masterpiece – THE BODY SNATCHER (1945). The same comments I made in reference to the Greg Mank/Simone Simon Audio Commentary on CAT PEOPLE more or less apply to their second helping here.
10/17/06:
SHADOWS IN THE DARK: THE VAL LEWTON LEGACY (Constantin Nasr, 2005; TV) ***
Serviceable rather than outstanding documentary (close to one hour in length) about Val Lewton, the celebrated producer of a series of nine classic – and highly influential – horror films made at RKO in the 1940s; it’s part of Warner’s 5-Disc THE VAL LEWTON COLLECTION Box Set (included as a double-feature with THE SEVENTH VICTIM [1943]).
Apart from the films themselves (which are dealt with in more detail – though not all of them! – in the individual Audio Commentaries on their respective discs), it touches upon his entire life and career. Therefore, I was somewhat disappointed to find that CAT PEOPLE (1942) takes up a lot of the running-time – having been the first film in the series – while THE GHOST SHIP (1943) and ISLE OF THE DEAD (1945) are once again overlooked; in fact, the three Boris Karloff films are discussed simultaneously – with, for instance, BEDLAM (1946) cited as being Lewton’s best film but with no proper context provided to back up such a statement (with which many would argue to begin with, myself included)!
Still, all the participants – including film-makers such as Joe Dante, William Friedkin, John Landis, George A. Romero and Robert Wise (at the time, the sole surviving member of Lewton’s “Snake Pit” unit), as well as the critics/writers who contributed to the various Audio Commentaries (it was especially nice to be able to see the face behind the voice) – are clearly well-informed, enthusiastic and reverential about their subject, so that, in the end, the documentary proves well worth viewing (if not the penetrating look at the man himself – what
really made him tick, essentially – one would have wished for).
