The Night of the Hunter

Until the other day, I was sure I had never seen The Night of the Hunter.  Yet, as I watched I had a few moments of déjà vu and it brought back my childhood weariness of boisterous preachers.  From the harping televangelist, to a broad rimmed hat spouting trite ideas on faith, I somehow grew up with an odd suspicion of many ministers, most of whom where probably very decent men.  Robert Mitchum’s character here is the is the icon of evil men who use religion as a cloak to lure the trusting masses in and I was ever mindful to not be the next chump.  It makes me wonder now if I might have seen The Night of the Hunter as a small child and have no solid memory of the event.  Is there such thing a repressed cinematic memory?

In the movie, the phony preacher learns of a newly widowed woman, whose husband hid ten thousand dollars he stole somewhere near their home.  When this man, Harry (Mitchum), finds the widow and her two children, he turns on his preacher-man charm and wins over everyone but the son, John (Billy Chapin).  Skeptical John and his doll-faced little sister, Pearl (Sally Jane Bruce), know where the money is hidden, but promised their dead father they would never tell anyone where, not even their mother.  After Harry marries their mother (Shelly Winters), he becomes even more menacing and inescapable.  The more he asks where the money is, the more he pits their naive mother against the children.  Eventually, the children have no choice but to run, joining other wandering children of the depression era.  But Harry is a cunning and tireless hunter, always pursuing them.

Mitchum created one of the most unforgettable characters in classic cinema in The Night of the Hunter.  Harry is perfectly menacing with his booming voice.  The way he can almost always keep it so calm and cheerful with every word patiently elongated only heightens the tension he creates, especially in his threats.  And the respectable Reverend act he puts on to gain trust everywhere he goes is despicable.  Loosely paraphrasing a bible story, singing and letting little ones sit on your knee seems like the small town trifecta for acceptance.  And the songs he always sings always have a lingering air of dread in them.  I get chills just thinking about him singing, “Leaning… leaning… leaning on the everlasting arms.”

The film is full of haunting images, a few of which contributed to that bit of déjà vu.  Some of them make the film have an oppressive feeling, like a horror film.  One that people remember most from this movie are the tattoos on Harry’s knuckles, reading LOVE on the right and HATE on the left.  Part of me is afraid to wonder if there is a different story as to how Harry got those.  The image of Harry on a horse in the distance is wonderfully unsettling, especially when you think about how far away he is and how close his voice sounds.  And without giving anything away, that underwater shot has the same kind of eerie beauty present in the opening scene of Sunset Boulevard.

It is interesting to think of the film as an odd type of modern fairy tale.  It focuses on the children, their struggles and most of the adults around them are useless against Harry, who is the obvious monster.  A wolf disguised as a sheep if you will.  Many times, the point of these types of stories back in Grimm’s time was to give children guidance against good and evil.  Perhaps The Night of the Hunter serves to help children uncover evil lurking under clever disguises.

Unfortunately, The Night of the Hunter was received so poorly, it made Charles Laughton vow to never direct another film again.  And sadly, he stuck to that promise.  It did not earn any Oscar nominations.  No awards at all for that matter.  However, it is in the National Film Registry.  Today, classic film buffs still clamor about the wonderfully artistic images throughout the film and revel in Mitchum’s magnificent character.

“I can hear you whisperin’ children, so I know you’re down there.  I can feel myself gettin’ awful mad.  I’m out of patience children.  I’m coming to find you now.”

Mutiny on the Bounty

Back when I reviewed the 1962 remake of Mutiny on the Bounty, I was left with many questions about the original, mostly was the remake necessary.  It was not.  Not at all.

The HMS Bounty is about to leave for a two year mission to Tahiti to bring back a supply of bread fruit.  Ran by the notorious Captain Bligh (Charles Laughton), he dishes out harsh punishments for minor infractions in order to keep the men in line.  The men are worked so hard by fear that first mate Fletcher Christian (Clark Gable) starts to question Bligh’s command.  Tensions nearly mount as they land in Tahiti and the six months the men spend on the island are bliss compared to the Bounty.  When it’s time to sail back, Bligh is worse than ever and decides to severely ration the water in order to keep all the bread fruit plants healthy.  Christian and the men can only take so much before they declare a mutiny against Bligh.

Laughton plays the perfect Captain Bligh.  With his half opened eyes and thick lips, he can strike a perfectly indifferent expression that can easily border onto cruel, especially during whipping scenes.  His round face ensures us that he is still eating while the forces extreme rationing on the men.  The great thing about Laughton’s Bligh is that the less he does, the more sinister and cruel he seems.  The whippings were less frequent and less graphic than the remake, yet I feared this Bligh much more than Howard’s portrayal.

In the first few minutes on deck, all I could think about was how wonderfully they captured the beauty of this ship.  We see the men climbing all over it so high with no harnesses.  These men have some balls.   When the sail opens and captures the wind, ah!  It was like the ship was coming to life and blooming before our eyes.  This is truly something to marvel at and the film captured this man-made majesty perfectly, much more satisfying than any CGI trick.

Some of the things I wondered about in the remake came through just as I thought they would in the original.  While the natives are still very friendly, the sex is not played up so much.  Neither is the whipping.  And we don’t have to watch these men suffer as long since the original is just over two hours long, as opposed to the remake’s grueling three.  Basically, the original has a little less of everything, but here, less is so much more.  It is better and more effective in every way.

“When you’re back in England with the fleet again, you’ll hear the hue and cry against me. From now on they’ll spell mutiny with my name.”

Les Misérables

Based off of Victor Hugo’s novel, Les Misérables tells the tale of Jean Valjean (Fredric March), who is sentenced to ten years in the galleys for stealing food to feed his sister’s children.  The conditions are brutal and when Valjean’s sentence finally ends, he still has to live the life of a convict, where he is welcome nowhere and has to check in for parole every year.  When he seems at his lowest, the kindness of a Bishop Bienvenu (Cedric Hardwicke), teaches him that life is about giving.

Years later, Valjean has built himself a new life under the name Champmathieu.  He is so respected that he is appointed mayor, with the dutiful Inspector Javert (Charles Laughton) pledging his devotion.  Valjean meets a young orphaned girl named Cosette (Marilyn Knowlden) and becomes a father figure to her.  When Valjean learns that an innocent man is on trial because he stopped reporting for parole, he gives up the good name he’s built and jeopardizes his freedom to spare the innocent man.  That confession launches Javert to pursue Valjean for the sake of carrying out the law.  But Valjean and Cosette go into hiding and the chase lasts for years until Valjean sees that his running will cost the grown Cosette (Rochelle Hudson) her own chances at happiness.

The most fascinating character in this film is Laughton’s Javert.  With his emotionless, uncompromising view of the law he feels compelled to carry out, he seems to be a personification of the entire justice system in early nineteenth century France.  To Javert, Valjean must be captured, the fact that he has lived as a model citizen under another name is just a spiteful act of defiance against the system.  That sort of blind determination can be frightening when you’re trying to hide and outrun it and it doesn’t look like Javert will hold any mercies.

From book, to film, to musical, there are plenty of adaptations of Hugo’s classic tale to choose from.  Personally, I find this film to be the medium I would choose due to the classic film stars, beautiful silver screen imagery and lack of singing.  I know there are some who hold a fierce love for the musical and others who believe a film could never hold all that Hugo puts in the novel, understandable, but to each his own.  If you are completely new to the world of Les Misérables, I would suggest either reading the novel or finding this film for your first encounter.

“Keep these always. Silver they say, but they’re more than gold to me.”

Ruggles of Red Gap

While visiting Paris in 1908, an American couple wins an English butler, Ruggles (Charles Laughton), in a game of poker. The wife, Effie Floud (Mary Boland), hopes that giving her husband, Egbert Floud (Charles Ruggles), a personal manservant will help him rise into a more sophisticated lifestyle that she is trying to achieve by throwing snooty parties.  They take Ruggles back to their small, but growing town in Washington, Red Gap, where Ruggles tries to keep Egbert in line.  Instead of running a small errand to the newspaper, Egbert stops in at a local beer bust and Ruggles reluctantly has to follow.  There, he meets Mrs. Judson (Zasu Pitts), a widow serving food at the party.  As the two dance, Egbert drunkenly refers to Ruggles as “the Colonel” sparking rumors that peg Ruggles as a war hero.

After the whole town thinks Ruggles is a prestigious guest at the Floud’s house, he enjoys the taste of being somebody rather than somebody’s servant.  He realizes that now that he is in America, he can aspire to be his own person with his own set of American dreams.  With his culinary skills, Ruggles decides to open up a restaurant, but Effie needs him to serve at another of her pompous social parties.  He becomes conflicted on whether to take a big chance on the restaurant or stay in his safe, respectable line of servitude.

Egbert and Ruggles are polar opposite characters, which makes their friendship all the more fun and meaningful.  Egbert is a wonderfully nice hick who enjoys his ridiculous looking full checked suits and would rather get loud and drunk in a Paris cafe than step foot in any of their art museums.  He is a regular cowboy and Effie is desperately trying to mold him into a gentleman.  Ruggles has come from a family of servants and finds that a fine lot in life.  He’s quiet, disciplined and doesn’t look like he knows how to have a good time for himself.  When Egbert treats Ruggles as more of a friend than a servant, it baffles Ruggles at first.  He has been taught his place is below his employer, but it seems Egbert doesn’t see it that way saying they are equal.

At one point in the film, Ruggles and Egbert are in the local saloon, trying to convince Ruggles to strike out on his own.  Egbert tries to remember what Lincoln said at Gettysburg, but can’t.  The questions is passed to all the cowboys around the saloon, but no one can remember what it was that Lincoln said.  Finally, Ruggles stands up and recites the entire Gettysburg Address, an inspiring speech that all these free, rabble-rousing cowboys seem to take for granted.  It’s ironic how Ruggles, the foreigner who has led a life of servitude, knows this by heart while the men settling the west less than fifty years past the time of Lincoln can’t remember one word, yet they use the line “all men are created equal” whenever they see fit.

All in all, Leo McCarey’s Ruggles of Red Gap is a cute film full of many fun moments.  It’s so nice to see Charles Laughton as such a lovable good guy in the same year that he plays two notorious villains.  Once an honest smile crosses that round face, I could not picture him as either of the dastardly characters he can also be.  If you’re not sure if you’ll care for Ruggles of Red Gap, there’s no risk of waisting a precious spot on your Netflix cue, since it isn’t available there.  The movie can be found on YouTube.

“When people think you are someone, you begin to think you are.”

Witness for the Prosecution

Directed by Billy Wilder and based off Agatha Christie’s play, Witness for the Prosecution is an intriguing courtroom drama full of well thought out characters, engaging dialogue and plot that delivers surprise after surprise.

British lawyer, Sir Wilfred Robarts (Charles Laughton), has just been released from the hospital after suffering a heart attack that put him in a coma for two months.  He has a nurse (Elsa Lanchester) fussing over him every minute begging him to take it easy for a while, but when a juicy murder case comes up, the wily old man cannot resist.

Leonard Vole (Tyrone Power) is accused of murdering a rich widow, whom he met by chance, befriended and idly hoped for an endorsement on his eggbeater invention.  The fact that he did not mention his marriage to her and that she left him a great deal of money looks like he led her on.  Leonard swears he is innocent and had no ill intentions.  The only person that can back up his alibi is his wife, Christine (Marlene Dietrich).

Christine is a cold, calculating type of person from Germany.  It turns out that she was already married when she went through a marriage ceremony with Leonard.  This means that she can testify in court on his behalf, but the whole case is turned on end when she instead decides to be a witness for the prosecution, brutally incriminating Leonard.

Charles Laughton earned a nomination for playing Wilfred as such a wonderful, crafty old man.  The way he slips away from his nurse, hides his cigars and brandy is just like any stubborn man.  He’s genuinely quirky and fun when he discovers his new lift for the staircase and rides it up and down.  His monocle test to see if Leonard and Christine are telling the truth is smart, intriguing and shows us that Wilfred has some interesting tricks up his sleeve.

Witness for the Prosecution is one of the best courtroom dramas I have ever seen.  The way flashbacks are set up throughout the film makes it feel more like a mystery, giving us pieces of the puzzle along the way.  All the characters feel real and intriguing, never flat and they never deliver stale or wooden dialogue.  The whole film seems to move like an old train, slow and chugging at first, but then flying at top speed at the very end, where a sudden twist creates a screech of metal on metal, nearly throwing the whole train off the tracks.  Sorry for the train metaphor, but the ending is so surprising and great that the voice during the credits politely asked me not to give anything away.  My lips are sealed.  You need to see this film.

“I am constantly surprised that women’s hats do not provoke more murders.”

 

The Private Life of Henry VIII

When I pick up a film from the early thirties with a long ridged title like The Private Life of Henry VIII, I have my doubts.  Honestly, I expected some dry, very historical account of Henry’s life with a stuffy British narration.  I could not have been more wrong.

The first clue to how this film will play out is in the opening text explaining that Henry’s first wife is of “no particular interest.  She was an honorable woman, so he divorced her.”  Then the film starts just before Anne Boleyn’s execution.  While Anne (Merle Oberon) is enjoying her neck while she can, Henry (Charles Laughton) and his whole royal staff is getting ready for his wedding to Jane Seymour (Wendy Barrie).  She dies in childbirth, but thankfully produces a son.  Soon, the whole kingdom is saying that Henry should marry again.

During a dinner scene, we see the classic Henry VIII everyone would love to play.  He’s on his throne, a huge turkey in front of him just tearing it apart and rambling with his mouth full.  “There’s no delicacy nowadays. No consideration for others. Refinement’s a thing of the past! Manners are dead!”  And he proceeds to burp and toss the bones behind him casually.  When the topic of remarrying comes up at dinner he starts to bellow, “What am I, a breeding bull?”

He then goes on to marry Anne of Cleaves (played by Laughton’s wife Elsa Lanchester).  This short marriage is one of the funniest moments in the film.  Before the marriage, Henry doesn’t even want to marry this dopey girl, but if he sent her back to Germany they would be outraged.  Just before he enters the chamber for his wedding night he sighs, “The things I’ve done for England.”  Even better, Anne of Cleaves is completely oblivious to wedding night activities.  “That story about children being found under gooseberry bushes isn’t true,” Henry tells her.  The scene only gets better.

Seeing that this was the first non-US film to be nominated for Best Picture, this could have been one of the first looks the world had at British comedy.  Some of the jokes are hysterical and feel nearly Monty Python inspired.  When peasants are gathering for the execution a man asks, “Do you mind taking off your hat, we can’t see the block.”  Later, in a bit of dialogue a British man tells the French executioner, “Enough British executioners are out of work as it is.”  And when Henry is trying to sneak up to Cathrine Parr’s bed chamber every guard he passes loudly announces him.

I was very surprised at how much I enjoyed this film.  It’s a great mix of history, biography and keeps fluid and personable with a great amount of comedy.  The characters feel like a great ensemble around Laughton and he executes his Henry perfectly and earned that Best Actor award.  If you want a fun brush-up on Henry VIII or want to see some early British comedy, I would suggest this film.