Val Lewton was born in Russia and emigrated as a child with his family to America. He worked around the outskirts of Hollywood for a while before becoming a producer of what were called horror films at RKO Studios. This was in the early 1940s. He died shortly after the end of the war, of a heart condition.
During his active period, this melancholy and retiring man -- who rewrote all his scripts without taking any screen credit -- led a unit of friends and compatible colleagues that produced some of the most haunting, small-budget, eerie movies to come out of Hollywood, about nine all together.
This documentary by Martin Scorsese is an appreciation of Lewton's work, and nicely done it is. Lewton deserves all the attention and thought that went into the documentary. There are abundant excerpts from his films and interesting commentaries from a handful of talking heads, including that of the little girl from "The Curse of the Cat People", now fully grown.
"The Curse of the Cat People" is emblematic of the titles and material being thrown at Lewton while he was at RKO. The studio had just produced "Citizen Kane," a ruinously expensive flop at the time, and its new motto was "Showmanship, Not Genius." An additional impetus to the formation of Lewton's unit came from the success of Universal Studios' monster movies: "Frankenstein," "Dracula," "The Wolfman," "The Curse of Frankenstein," "The Briss of Dracula," and what not. The intention was for Lewton to make competitive monster movies at less cost. He did considerably more than that. He was stuck with the lurid titles and the sometimes irrational plots but he managed to polish the stories and see that they were filmed with impeccable taste.
The narration is well written and insightful. Here's an instance of what I mean. I'd never realized it before but the most hair-raising moments in Lewton's movies are handled very briefly. They last only an instant or two -- a bus hissing to a halt, a trickle of blood under a door, the hoof beats of a horse turning into a flapping old automobile tire -- whereas today one would find these effects not only made more explicit but lingered over until the audience was on the edge of exhaustion or maybe beyond that.
For those who are interested, there is a boxed set of nine of Lewton's best films now available on DVD, and each film is accompanied by a knowledgeable commentary.
During his active period, this melancholy and retiring man -- who rewrote all his scripts without taking any screen credit -- led a unit of friends and compatible colleagues that produced some of the most haunting, small-budget, eerie movies to come out of Hollywood, about nine all together.
This documentary by Martin Scorsese is an appreciation of Lewton's work, and nicely done it is. Lewton deserves all the attention and thought that went into the documentary. There are abundant excerpts from his films and interesting commentaries from a handful of talking heads, including that of the little girl from "The Curse of the Cat People", now fully grown.
"The Curse of the Cat People" is emblematic of the titles and material being thrown at Lewton while he was at RKO. The studio had just produced "Citizen Kane," a ruinously expensive flop at the time, and its new motto was "Showmanship, Not Genius." An additional impetus to the formation of Lewton's unit came from the success of Universal Studios' monster movies: "Frankenstein," "Dracula," "The Wolfman," "The Curse of Frankenstein," "The Briss of Dracula," and what not. The intention was for Lewton to make competitive monster movies at less cost. He did considerably more than that. He was stuck with the lurid titles and the sometimes irrational plots but he managed to polish the stories and see that they were filmed with impeccable taste.
The narration is well written and insightful. Here's an instance of what I mean. I'd never realized it before but the most hair-raising moments in Lewton's movies are handled very briefly. They last only an instant or two -- a bus hissing to a halt, a trickle of blood under a door, the hoof beats of a horse turning into a flapping old automobile tire -- whereas today one would find these effects not only made more explicit but lingered over until the audience was on the edge of exhaustion or maybe beyond that.
For those who are interested, there is a boxed set of nine of Lewton's best films now available on DVD, and each film is accompanied by a knowledgeable commentary.