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.”

To Kill a Mockingbird

Most American high schools require their students to read Harper Lee’s classic novel, To Kill a Mockingbird, at some point.  Unfortunately, forcing literature onto a teenager doesn’t always encourage them to open their mind to it’s ideas.  Thankfully, I had Mrs. Essex that semester.  She led us into eye opening discussions about the novel and it’s fragile themes.  It was probably the first time I was within an honest and intelligent conversation about racism, sexual violence or childhood influences.  Of all the literature I was exposed to in my teens, this became one of my favorites and the most thought provoking.

The story takes place in an Alabama town during the depression.  Atticus (Gregory Peck) is the town’s lawyer, he’ll take any honest case and will accept payment in simple ways for people who are poor.  He’s a widower and father of two children, ten-year-old Jem (Phillip Alford) and six-year-old tomboy Scout (Mary Badham).  Jem, Scout and their friend Dill (John Megna) keep themselves busy just being curious kids around the neighborhood and fueling their imaginations with discoveries about the legendary Radley house.  When Atticus defends a local black man who has been accused of raping a white woman, Jem and Scout have many hard questions to ask and they witness their father stand against the crowd and do what is right.

In the film, we see that kids are just kids, but it’s what the adults around them do and say that form their senses and understanding of the world.  Perhaps it’s the lack of a strong female presence in Scout’s life that influences her tomboy ways, but Atticus is the perfect role model for her and Jem.  They’re lucky to have him, on the other end of the parental spectrum is the town drunk, Mr. Ewell (James Anderson).  He claims that his eighteen year old daughter, Mayella (Collin Wilcox), was raped and beaten by Tom Robinson (Brock Peters).  After the courtroom scene, it’s obvious who the real culprit is and how much Mr. Ewell has wronged his daughter throughout her life.

One of the greatest scenes is when Atticus is protecting Tom from the lynch mob.  Atticus is on the porch of the jail prepared to stand his ground, but hopes to do so peacefully.  When the mob arrives, mostly made up of poor, chubby farmers, Scout and Jem rush through the crowd to their father.  These men aren’t going to get violent with children around, right?  Then Scout takes her innocence to a new level and tries to have a friendly conversation with Mr. Cunningham, whom Atticus has helped in court before.  The shame on his face, from being picked out as a good man by a little girl when he has the intentions of killing a man is amazing and so moving.

I cannot go on enough about Gregory Peck’s Oscar winning performance as Atticus Finch.  He upholds the feelings the character evokes in the novel perfectly.  Atticus is the father everyone wants to have in some way.  He’s smart, never raises his voice, teaches his children well, both educationally and morally.  When Jem or Scout ask him tough questions, Atticus always knows what to say without sugarcoating the truth.  He’s as respectful to children as his is to adults, and in return earns their respect.  The AFI named Peck’s Atticus as the top screen hero in past hundred years.  That’s quite an honor for a character who might sum himself up as simply a father and a lawyer.

Everyone, especially parents, should see (and read) To Kill a Mockingbird.  Kids will be intrigued by Jem and Scouts adventures, but should have an adult on hand for tough questions about a certain word.  If you ever need a coach to help you explain things to little ones, just remember that Atticus is a role model for every child to look up to and all parents to emulate.

“There just didn’t seem to be anyone or anything Atticus couldn’t explain. Though it wasn’t a talent that would arouse the admiration of any of our friends, Jem and I had to admit he was very good at that – but that was all he was good at… we thought.”