It's hard to imagine how the producer Val Lewton managed to pull off these spooky, understated little films at RKO. The studio, envious of Universal's monster series, kept throwing these ludicrous titles at him. "The Cat People." Did "The Cat People" make money? Okay, then, "The CURSE of the Cat People." If Universal had "The Wolf Man," they threw "The Leopard Man" at Lewton. Yet he kept constructing miniature gems on these fragile foundations.
This is one of them, from 1943. It won't scare the kids as much as "The Cat People" did because there are fewer unexpected shocks ("buses", Lewton called them). But adults will find it about as interesting as any of Lewton's other fantasies, especially if they're at all familiar with Hitchcock's "Psycho" or "Rosemary's Baby" and are able to connect dots with any facility.
Here's the opening, in which the tenor of the film to follow is fully laid out. I'll use it as an example and then pretty much quit.
Mary (Kim Hunter, in her first role) is a student at some academy outside New York. Mrs. Lowood, the headmistress, calls her into the office and explains that Mary's sister, Jacqueline, has stopped payments for Mary's tuition without explanation. Mrs. Lowood has been unable to contact Jacqueline. Mary says she intends to go to New York and look into her sister's incommunicado. Mrs. Lowood offers to help pay Mary's tuition and adds that if Mary is unable to find Jacqueline, she is always welcome to return to the school as a teacher.
In the hallway, Mary is stopped by a young teacher, Mrs. Gilchrest, who pleads with her not to come back to the school. She herself was once in Mary's position and has regretted her return ever since. At this point we hear Mrs. Lowood's commanding call from inside -- "Gilchrest?" Mary leaves the school after a fond look at a grandfather clock in the hallways.
From the beginning everything is askew, not what we expect from a cheap B movie, not quite "normal". The apparent disappearance of Mary's sister Jacqueline is only the most obvious part of the puzzle. Mrs. Lowood seems to be treating Mary with sympathy, yet her demeanor is strangely ominous, giving us a sense of something going on that we aren't aware of.
Gilchrest's anguished warning in the hallway suggests that our unease is justified. I mean -- what the hell HAPPENED to Gilchrest when she came back to the school? Or is she frankly nuts? Lowood's demanding call leads us to believe that Gilchrest knows whereof she speaks. Neither Lowood nor Gilchrest is ever seen in the film again.
And the grandfather clock? What's that about? If anything.
Some of these apparent dead links may be due to hasty editing, attempts to trim the film down to a B-movie slot in the local theaters. But then why do Lewton's movies leave behind this sense of languorous dread when other, completely forgettable B movies, show plot holes because the actors are rushing through the film so that instead of mysterious digressions we wind up with plot holes? Mary's investigation takes her to Greenwich Village and puts her through a maze with odd characters as guides or red herrings. In the most clearly violent scene one of her acquaintances, a creepy detective, prowls through a dark and deserted building with her. Hearing a noise in the hallway ahead, he steps into the shadows, while Mary waits trembling, and after a few moments staggers back wordlessly with a fatal wound.
I think I'll let it go at that. Don't bother watching this if you expect a slasher movie or even a horror movie. Watch it some night when you feel ready to let its sluggish current take you along on a ride through a phantasmagorical setting that is anything but Disneyland.
This is one of them, from 1943. It won't scare the kids as much as "The Cat People" did because there are fewer unexpected shocks ("buses", Lewton called them). But adults will find it about as interesting as any of Lewton's other fantasies, especially if they're at all familiar with Hitchcock's "Psycho" or "Rosemary's Baby" and are able to connect dots with any facility.
Here's the opening, in which the tenor of the film to follow is fully laid out. I'll use it as an example and then pretty much quit.
Mary (Kim Hunter, in her first role) is a student at some academy outside New York. Mrs. Lowood, the headmistress, calls her into the office and explains that Mary's sister, Jacqueline, has stopped payments for Mary's tuition without explanation. Mrs. Lowood has been unable to contact Jacqueline. Mary says she intends to go to New York and look into her sister's incommunicado. Mrs. Lowood offers to help pay Mary's tuition and adds that if Mary is unable to find Jacqueline, she is always welcome to return to the school as a teacher.
In the hallway, Mary is stopped by a young teacher, Mrs. Gilchrest, who pleads with her not to come back to the school. She herself was once in Mary's position and has regretted her return ever since. At this point we hear Mrs. Lowood's commanding call from inside -- "Gilchrest?" Mary leaves the school after a fond look at a grandfather clock in the hallways.
From the beginning everything is askew, not what we expect from a cheap B movie, not quite "normal". The apparent disappearance of Mary's sister Jacqueline is only the most obvious part of the puzzle. Mrs. Lowood seems to be treating Mary with sympathy, yet her demeanor is strangely ominous, giving us a sense of something going on that we aren't aware of.
Gilchrest's anguished warning in the hallway suggests that our unease is justified. I mean -- what the hell HAPPENED to Gilchrest when she came back to the school? Or is she frankly nuts? Lowood's demanding call leads us to believe that Gilchrest knows whereof she speaks. Neither Lowood nor Gilchrest is ever seen in the film again.
And the grandfather clock? What's that about? If anything.
Some of these apparent dead links may be due to hasty editing, attempts to trim the film down to a B-movie slot in the local theaters. But then why do Lewton's movies leave behind this sense of languorous dread when other, completely forgettable B movies, show plot holes because the actors are rushing through the film so that instead of mysterious digressions we wind up with plot holes? Mary's investigation takes her to Greenwich Village and puts her through a maze with odd characters as guides or red herrings. In the most clearly violent scene one of her acquaintances, a creepy detective, prowls through a dark and deserted building with her. Hearing a noise in the hallway ahead, he steps into the shadows, while Mary waits trembling, and after a few moments staggers back wordlessly with a fatal wound.
I think I'll let it go at that. Don't bother watching this if you expect a slasher movie or even a horror movie. Watch it some night when you feel ready to let its sluggish current take you along on a ride through a phantasmagorical setting that is anything but Disneyland.