One of the most affecting films which I have seen recently was The Enigma Of Kaspar Hauser, written and directed by Werner Herzog, and released in 1974.
Based on real events, and set in the 19th century, the movie follows the experiences of Kaspar, who had spent the first seventeen years of his existence imprisoned in a cell, with little or no contact with society or other people. One day he is released from this captivity by a mysterious man dressed in black who had apparently fed him previously.
Initially Kaspar is "abandoned" in a nearby village, and is viewed with curiosity by the locals. Having been cut off from "civilization", he has not been nurtured, or raised on societal norms. He therefore exhibits different thresholds, interpretations and reactions towards things around him.
The spectacle of Kaspar getting used to his new surroundings got me thinking. Perhaps people don't realise what "natural" is, and overlook the impact of man-made customs and laws. Because Kaspar does not conform to society's conceptions of "civilized" behaviour, it seems that the people decide that he has to be exploited, demeaned and humiliated. Fear and ignorance come into play here, in addition to deference to the status quo and "how things are done".
Kaspar was taught by the villagers largely on their terms. Later, after being rescued and "adopted" by a professor, he was allowed to find his own way more, and to express himself. Unsullied by the strictures of mainstream society, he is not brainwashed and indoctrinated like others, on questions of religion, social status and morality. Also, he refrains from subscribing to conventional wisdom on some academic matters.
Kaspar has not been tutored in the niceties of polite society. He is not aggressive, but he has developed differently. In seeing his musical inclinations, we perhaps see a hint that some things transcend social mores and hierarchies.
The concluding passages of the film are pleasingly ambiguous, and are open to various interpretations. One idea in my mind was that Kaspar was physically attacked because he was not "developing" or assimilating in the manner hoped for or anticipated, and that the "experiment" was going awry.
I found the autopsy scenes fascinating. The participants were arguably missing the point on the question of "abnormality". Perhaps it is the others who are strange and abnormal, rather than Kaspar himself?
This film was a very interesting and intriguing watch, posing some fairly profound questions about how our society, and our perceptions of normality, have developed over the centuries.
Wednesday, 11 September 2019
Wednesday, 4 September 2019
Ali: Fear Eats The Soul - 1974 film
Increasingly I have been drawn towards European art cinema, and in particular the simpler works with restrained production values, which make the viewer think rather than assaulting the senses with special effects and action sequences.
One such film which I watched recently only reinforced the direction of my movie-viewing habits. This was Ali:Fear Eats The Soul, a 1974 film written and directed by Rainer Werner Fassbinder.
Set in Munich, the film focuses on the relationship between a 60 year old German woman (Emmi) and a younger Moroccan guest-worker (Ali). They are subjected to much prejudice and hatred, and Emmi is ostracized by many of those around her, particularly after the pair get married.
The dialogue between the two main characters is very natural and charming, and I found myself rooting for the two main characters (Emmi and Ali), as they are both sympathetic and likeable.
As much as the relationship between Emmi and Ali is endearing and touching to behold, the attitudes of many of the people around them are troubling and disturbing. I guess that Fassbinder was shining a light on the darker aspects of the German economic miracle, and of West German post-war society generally.
The contrast between the humanity and genuineness of Ali and Emmi, and the rigidity and bigotry of other people is very stark. The film also explores themes of loneliness, isolation and alienation. The settings are quite austere and bleak, exacerbating these sensations. Interestingly, and disconcertingly, many of the issues brought up by this picture are still resonant today.
In addition to the other merits of the film, the acting is of a high order, and special praise has to go to Brigitte Mira, who plays the role of Emmi. Fassbinder himself acts in one of the supporting roles.
There is some fine symbolism in this movie, and Ali and Emmi are often shown alone, with other people either absent or at some distance, as if to emphasise how they are alone, shunned by the rest of the population.
Ali: Fear Eats The Soul I found to be an absorbing and engaging film, the kind of work which really makes people think.
One such film which I watched recently only reinforced the direction of my movie-viewing habits. This was Ali:Fear Eats The Soul, a 1974 film written and directed by Rainer Werner Fassbinder.
Set in Munich, the film focuses on the relationship between a 60 year old German woman (Emmi) and a younger Moroccan guest-worker (Ali). They are subjected to much prejudice and hatred, and Emmi is ostracized by many of those around her, particularly after the pair get married.
The dialogue between the two main characters is very natural and charming, and I found myself rooting for the two main characters (Emmi and Ali), as they are both sympathetic and likeable.
As much as the relationship between Emmi and Ali is endearing and touching to behold, the attitudes of many of the people around them are troubling and disturbing. I guess that Fassbinder was shining a light on the darker aspects of the German economic miracle, and of West German post-war society generally.
The contrast between the humanity and genuineness of Ali and Emmi, and the rigidity and bigotry of other people is very stark. The film also explores themes of loneliness, isolation and alienation. The settings are quite austere and bleak, exacerbating these sensations. Interestingly, and disconcertingly, many of the issues brought up by this picture are still resonant today.
In addition to the other merits of the film, the acting is of a high order, and special praise has to go to Brigitte Mira, who plays the role of Emmi. Fassbinder himself acts in one of the supporting roles.
There is some fine symbolism in this movie, and Ali and Emmi are often shown alone, with other people either absent or at some distance, as if to emphasise how they are alone, shunned by the rest of the population.
Ali: Fear Eats The Soul I found to be an absorbing and engaging film, the kind of work which really makes people think.
Monday, 26 August 2019
First Spaceship On Venus (1960 film)
Having acquired a pronounced taste for classic Eastern European science fiction movies, I recently watched First Spaceship On Venus, which is an English-language version of a East German/Polish film called The Silent Star (a literal translation of the original title). The picture is based on a novel written by Stanislaw Lem.
The story begins when it is discovered that a "rock fragment" found in the Gobi Desert is in fact a "flight recorder" from a spaceship which has made contact with Earth. After it is determined that the spacecraft in question must have originated on Venus, the authorities resolve to launch a mission to that planet to investigate matters further. Once there, some startling findings are made.
Some portions of the movie have a semi-documentary flavour. I was impressed by the fast-moving style, which is evident from the outset. The editing and the vibrant narrative ensured that the attention of this viewer was maintained.
The message, especially in the early stages, is one of international co-operation, of mankind operating in unity to address its challenges and its hopes. I found this aspect of the film to be uplifting rather than preachy or conceited, as it is delivered with such transparency and directness.
Indeed, I was attracted by the broader ambience of the film. The narrative felt organic and measured, and the cinematography was inventive and sharp. Of course, the special effects lived down to the standards which we expect of science fiction movies from that epoch, but they are by no means the most embarrassing or primitive which I have seen. The diverse cast of characters on board the Venus-bound spaceship make for some interesting dynamics.
Needless to say, as a film made in Eastern Europe at the height of the Cold War, issues such as peace, nuclear annihilation and so forth assume considerable prominence. Without giving away the plot, it seemed to me that to some extent, Venus was being held up as an example of what could occur on Earth if we do not recognise our folly.
In fairness, I was expecting more of a moralistic tone than was actually the case. The usual science fiction ruminations about the misuse of science and knowledge receive an airing, but in comparatively low-key fashion.
The one thing which surprised me was the ending, which felt vaguely lacklustre, although the part where the surviving crew members give their assessment to the assembled well-wishers is quite moving and dramatic.
So, in conclusion an intriguing and well made film, which moves along at an agreeable pace, poses some valid philosophical points unobtrusively, and does not outstay its welcome.
The story begins when it is discovered that a "rock fragment" found in the Gobi Desert is in fact a "flight recorder" from a spaceship which has made contact with Earth. After it is determined that the spacecraft in question must have originated on Venus, the authorities resolve to launch a mission to that planet to investigate matters further. Once there, some startling findings are made.
Some portions of the movie have a semi-documentary flavour. I was impressed by the fast-moving style, which is evident from the outset. The editing and the vibrant narrative ensured that the attention of this viewer was maintained.
The message, especially in the early stages, is one of international co-operation, of mankind operating in unity to address its challenges and its hopes. I found this aspect of the film to be uplifting rather than preachy or conceited, as it is delivered with such transparency and directness.
Indeed, I was attracted by the broader ambience of the film. The narrative felt organic and measured, and the cinematography was inventive and sharp. Of course, the special effects lived down to the standards which we expect of science fiction movies from that epoch, but they are by no means the most embarrassing or primitive which I have seen. The diverse cast of characters on board the Venus-bound spaceship make for some interesting dynamics.
Needless to say, as a film made in Eastern Europe at the height of the Cold War, issues such as peace, nuclear annihilation and so forth assume considerable prominence. Without giving away the plot, it seemed to me that to some extent, Venus was being held up as an example of what could occur on Earth if we do not recognise our folly.
In fairness, I was expecting more of a moralistic tone than was actually the case. The usual science fiction ruminations about the misuse of science and knowledge receive an airing, but in comparatively low-key fashion.
The one thing which surprised me was the ending, which felt vaguely lacklustre, although the part where the surviving crew members give their assessment to the assembled well-wishers is quite moving and dramatic.
So, in conclusion an intriguing and well made film, which moves along at an agreeable pace, poses some valid philosophical points unobtrusively, and does not outstay its welcome.
Monday, 12 August 2019
M (1931 film)
Just recently I saw a mention of Fritz Lang's 1931 film M, on social media. Having been transfixed and enthralled by the same director's epic Metropolis, I resolved to watch M.
The story is set in Berlin, and centres on the hunt for a serial killer who is abducting and murdering children. At some point members of the city's criminal underworld decide to launch their own hunt for the killer, although the purity of their motives is open to question. Peter Lorre stars as the main suspect, Beckert.
From its beginning, this film displays a great inventiveness, grittiness and attention to detail, with much intriguing imagery and symbolism. The opening scene, in which some children are singing a "chant" about the murder of children, is rather chilling and powerfully but subtly presented. There can't have been too many films tackling such dark and challenging subject matter in the early 1930s.
Peter Lorre is never less than compelling in the role of Beckert, and his "monologue" towards the end of the movie is both gripping and harrowing.
M has some interesting sub-texts, among which are society's attitudes towards children, the rule of law and the decencies of civilization. I interpreted one of the film's messages as being that some people are ambivalent about even such terrible crimes, and more worried about how their own private interests might be affected, whilst others exhibit an unpleasant ferocity and hysteria, shedding their powers of reason.
It is fascinating to note that even in 1931 it is posited that criminal cases have become media events, although back then of course the main medium was the newspaper. The paranoia and distrust engendered by the murders is cleverly portrayed, accentuated by the generally dark tone and the sets.
One thing which occurred to me whilst watching this picture was a slight parallel with Erich Kastner's Emil and The Detectives. In that novel a group of youngsters try to solve a crime themselves. Here, the criminal elements do a similar thing, assisted by various locals, including beggars. Whether the similarity is significant I genuinely have no idea, but the two stories do appear to have been written around the same time.
I found M to be a highly absorbing film, cleverly conceived and asking some unsettling questions about modern society and human nature. Apparently Lang regarded this as his favourite among his own films, and that in itself is high praise indeed.
The story is set in Berlin, and centres on the hunt for a serial killer who is abducting and murdering children. At some point members of the city's criminal underworld decide to launch their own hunt for the killer, although the purity of their motives is open to question. Peter Lorre stars as the main suspect, Beckert.
From its beginning, this film displays a great inventiveness, grittiness and attention to detail, with much intriguing imagery and symbolism. The opening scene, in which some children are singing a "chant" about the murder of children, is rather chilling and powerfully but subtly presented. There can't have been too many films tackling such dark and challenging subject matter in the early 1930s.
Peter Lorre is never less than compelling in the role of Beckert, and his "monologue" towards the end of the movie is both gripping and harrowing.
M has some interesting sub-texts, among which are society's attitudes towards children, the rule of law and the decencies of civilization. I interpreted one of the film's messages as being that some people are ambivalent about even such terrible crimes, and more worried about how their own private interests might be affected, whilst others exhibit an unpleasant ferocity and hysteria, shedding their powers of reason.
It is fascinating to note that even in 1931 it is posited that criminal cases have become media events, although back then of course the main medium was the newspaper. The paranoia and distrust engendered by the murders is cleverly portrayed, accentuated by the generally dark tone and the sets.
One thing which occurred to me whilst watching this picture was a slight parallel with Erich Kastner's Emil and The Detectives. In that novel a group of youngsters try to solve a crime themselves. Here, the criminal elements do a similar thing, assisted by various locals, including beggars. Whether the similarity is significant I genuinely have no idea, but the two stories do appear to have been written around the same time.
I found M to be a highly absorbing film, cleverly conceived and asking some unsettling questions about modern society and human nature. Apparently Lang regarded this as his favourite among his own films, and that in itself is high praise indeed.
Labels:
1931,
cinema,
films,
fritz lang,
german,
germany,
metropolis,
movies
Saturday, 29 June 2019
The Prodigy - Hermann Hesse
I have recently resolved to re-read the works of the great German author Hermann Hesse, and as part of this process I revisited his novel The Prodigy, which has also been published under the alternative title Beneath The Wheel.
The novel tells the tale of a gifted young man called Hans from southern Germany who works hard to attain admission to a prestigious theological college, but is subject to constant pressures from his father, schoolteachers and others. Once at the aforementioned college, he becomes friendly with a young man who questions the value of "abstract" scholasticism. Hans falls from favour with the college hierarchy, his academic performance diminishes, and he suffers from a breakdown, and returns home, eventually enrolling as an apprentice in a manual occupation.
As ever with Hesse's works, there are lots of pleasing passages concerning a person's oneness with nature, and an immersion in the simple pleasures of life. Again, in keeping with the regular Hesse style, there is not much in the way of direct social criticism, and much of his message can be found between the lines, as it were. There is the occasional slice of sarcasm, which underlined for me that the topics covered in this novel were of particular moment for the writer.
The preamble, covering the time prior to our hero's admission to the theological college, is a delight, and worth the "admission fee" on its own.
This novel is ostensibly a critique of the educational system which prevailed in the early twentieth century. More broadly, it explores themes of regimentation, oppression, the folly of some academic pursuits, and conformity as a route to stagnation and decay. Hesse extols the virtues and value of work which brings one closer to nature, which has a tangible result, and which activates and nourishes all of our senses. For me, it brings home the necessity for a balance in our lives.
Another strand which runs through the story for me is that people should be allowed to find their own path, and that we should not let the success or acquiescence of others become the measure of our own self-esteem, value or prestige.
This is a highly affecting novel, and is to my mind one of the more straightforward and linear of Hermann Hesse's works. Although the story is told from the standpoint of early twentieth-century Europe, the issues are still relevant. Perhaps some of the ills discussed here are less "institutionalized" nowadays, but they are still pervasive and important.
The novel tells the tale of a gifted young man called Hans from southern Germany who works hard to attain admission to a prestigious theological college, but is subject to constant pressures from his father, schoolteachers and others. Once at the aforementioned college, he becomes friendly with a young man who questions the value of "abstract" scholasticism. Hans falls from favour with the college hierarchy, his academic performance diminishes, and he suffers from a breakdown, and returns home, eventually enrolling as an apprentice in a manual occupation.
As ever with Hesse's works, there are lots of pleasing passages concerning a person's oneness with nature, and an immersion in the simple pleasures of life. Again, in keeping with the regular Hesse style, there is not much in the way of direct social criticism, and much of his message can be found between the lines, as it were. There is the occasional slice of sarcasm, which underlined for me that the topics covered in this novel were of particular moment for the writer.
The preamble, covering the time prior to our hero's admission to the theological college, is a delight, and worth the "admission fee" on its own.
This novel is ostensibly a critique of the educational system which prevailed in the early twentieth century. More broadly, it explores themes of regimentation, oppression, the folly of some academic pursuits, and conformity as a route to stagnation and decay. Hesse extols the virtues and value of work which brings one closer to nature, which has a tangible result, and which activates and nourishes all of our senses. For me, it brings home the necessity for a balance in our lives.
Another strand which runs through the story for me is that people should be allowed to find their own path, and that we should not let the success or acquiescence of others become the measure of our own self-esteem, value or prestige.
This is a highly affecting novel, and is to my mind one of the more straightforward and linear of Hermann Hesse's works. Although the story is told from the standpoint of early twentieth-century Europe, the issues are still relevant. Perhaps some of the ills discussed here are less "institutionalized" nowadays, but they are still pervasive and important.
Saturday, 8 June 2019
News From Nowhere - William Morris
During my adult life I have tended to read fewer fictional works than I would have preferred, and generally those novels which I have enjoyed have been of the more "philosophical" variety, including some utopian and dystopian science fiction. William Morris' 1890 novel News From Nowhere pretty much corresponds to these tendencies of mine.
In this novel, a man falls asleep in Victorian London, and apparently wakes up in a future society which styles itself as a socialist utopia, and which is agrarian in character. He is given a tour of this "new world" by the people who he meets, and this takes in boat journeys along the River Thames.
Even allowing for the times when the work was composed, I found the writing style to be an acquired taste. Although not quite archaic in its flavour, in places it may be difficult for some to follow and even understand. Of the novel itself, I was pleasantly surprised by how enjoyable and absorbing I found it.
The fact that the new society outlined in this book is agrarian in nature means that it probably made more sense back in the late nineteenth century than it does to a twenty-first century audience raised in an age of globalization and rapid technological progress. Despite this, some aspects of the utopia envisaged here are very much relevant to our own modern concerns and problems. Perhaps Morris was prescient and astute in observing that technology does not necessarily emancipate the people, or rather is not allowed to emancipate the people.
Whilst the agrarian society portrayed in News From Nowhere seems impractical and implausible to us in our hi-tech world, and the old arguments concerning incentives and competition remain very valid, facets of this utopian vision are worthy of consideration and scrutiny, as part of piecemeal social and economic reform to improve our world and make it more humane, stimulating and equitable.
One feature of the novel which I found slightly disconcerting was the revelation, or insinuation, that all the people were happy, and that they evince a certain kind of serenity. This seems unlikely and even undesirable. A place where there is a uniformity of expressions and moods sounds to my antennae like more of a dystopia!
Some of the language used, and the arguments advanced, are quite persuasive, certainly of the evils of 19th century society and its contemporary industrialism, but whether this means that the agrarian route was a practical and workable solution is another matter entirely. Perhaps there is a gap in the market for someone to write a novel where a person falls asleep in a 21st century environment and wakes up in a future libertarian socialist set-up? Maybe we are currently at a similar stage, "spiritually" if not materially speaking, as the Victorians were?
I was heartened that some form of "explanation" was offered as to how the old society of "commercial slavery" gave way to the brave new world, but I found myself wanting more. For example, what was the full human cost of the transition? In fairness, we are left wondering whether our hero's "experiences" were from a dream, and some minutiae may not have been imparted in such a dream....
Moving on, I was intrigued by one of the central tenets of this utopia; the notion that work can be pleasurable, and vice-versa, and of the idea that the barriers between work and art can be eroded. Weren't we once told that technological advances would allow people more time and space to indulge in stimulating and rewarding artistic, intellectual and leisurely pursuits?
My interpretation of the utopia proclaimed in this work was that it was too uniformly "nice", with little time for dissenting voices, which appeared to be treated with disdain. The tone of the characters seemed to me unduly smug and complacent, with scant allowance for the co-existence of philosophies or the possibility of syncretism. People in that situation may be too comfortable and serene to notice anything sinister or insidious in their midst. In addition, I think there was too easy an assumption that the old habits and vices would simply disappear or fade away.
Much play is made of the populace of this future community being at one with nature, and loving life as opposed to fearing death. Surely we can incorporate some of the more desirable elements of Morris' vision in our future, by way of gradual, rational reform, and the application of reason, if we put our minds to it, without dispensing with some of the dynamic forces which propel human progress?
Overall, I liked this novel much more than I had anticipated beforehand. It is more "literary" than I thought it might be, and it is well worth a read.
In this novel, a man falls asleep in Victorian London, and apparently wakes up in a future society which styles itself as a socialist utopia, and which is agrarian in character. He is given a tour of this "new world" by the people who he meets, and this takes in boat journeys along the River Thames.
Even allowing for the times when the work was composed, I found the writing style to be an acquired taste. Although not quite archaic in its flavour, in places it may be difficult for some to follow and even understand. Of the novel itself, I was pleasantly surprised by how enjoyable and absorbing I found it.
The fact that the new society outlined in this book is agrarian in nature means that it probably made more sense back in the late nineteenth century than it does to a twenty-first century audience raised in an age of globalization and rapid technological progress. Despite this, some aspects of the utopia envisaged here are very much relevant to our own modern concerns and problems. Perhaps Morris was prescient and astute in observing that technology does not necessarily emancipate the people, or rather is not allowed to emancipate the people.
Whilst the agrarian society portrayed in News From Nowhere seems impractical and implausible to us in our hi-tech world, and the old arguments concerning incentives and competition remain very valid, facets of this utopian vision are worthy of consideration and scrutiny, as part of piecemeal social and economic reform to improve our world and make it more humane, stimulating and equitable.
One feature of the novel which I found slightly disconcerting was the revelation, or insinuation, that all the people were happy, and that they evince a certain kind of serenity. This seems unlikely and even undesirable. A place where there is a uniformity of expressions and moods sounds to my antennae like more of a dystopia!
Some of the language used, and the arguments advanced, are quite persuasive, certainly of the evils of 19th century society and its contemporary industrialism, but whether this means that the agrarian route was a practical and workable solution is another matter entirely. Perhaps there is a gap in the market for someone to write a novel where a person falls asleep in a 21st century environment and wakes up in a future libertarian socialist set-up? Maybe we are currently at a similar stage, "spiritually" if not materially speaking, as the Victorians were?
I was heartened that some form of "explanation" was offered as to how the old society of "commercial slavery" gave way to the brave new world, but I found myself wanting more. For example, what was the full human cost of the transition? In fairness, we are left wondering whether our hero's "experiences" were from a dream, and some minutiae may not have been imparted in such a dream....
Moving on, I was intrigued by one of the central tenets of this utopia; the notion that work can be pleasurable, and vice-versa, and of the idea that the barriers between work and art can be eroded. Weren't we once told that technological advances would allow people more time and space to indulge in stimulating and rewarding artistic, intellectual and leisurely pursuits?
My interpretation of the utopia proclaimed in this work was that it was too uniformly "nice", with little time for dissenting voices, which appeared to be treated with disdain. The tone of the characters seemed to me unduly smug and complacent, with scant allowance for the co-existence of philosophies or the possibility of syncretism. People in that situation may be too comfortable and serene to notice anything sinister or insidious in their midst. In addition, I think there was too easy an assumption that the old habits and vices would simply disappear or fade away.
Much play is made of the populace of this future community being at one with nature, and loving life as opposed to fearing death. Surely we can incorporate some of the more desirable elements of Morris' vision in our future, by way of gradual, rational reform, and the application of reason, if we put our minds to it, without dispensing with some of the dynamic forces which propel human progress?
Overall, I liked this novel much more than I had anticipated beforehand. It is more "literary" than I thought it might be, and it is well worth a read.
Labels:
1971,
books,
novels,
science fiction,
socialism,
william morris
Saturday, 18 May 2019
Shadow Of A Doubt (1943 film)
In one of those moments inspired by a transient piece of social media information, I decided to give a watch to Shadow Of A Doubt, Alfred Hitchcock's 1943 thriller/film noir, which stars Teresa Wright and Joseph Cotten.
The plot centres on a visit by Oakley (Joseph Cotten) to the family of his sister, a family which includes his niece, the young Charlotte (Teresa Wright), who rather idolizes her uncle. It soon emerges, however, that Oakley is harbouring some very dark secrets.
One of the first things which I noticed about this picture was the meticulousness of the narrative, and the care taken to build and develop the suspense. Quite apart from this, the characterizations, including the Newton household, and even the relatively minor players, ensure that this film holds the interest, almost independently of the central direction of the story line.
Some elements which seem destined to be pivotal to the story are relatively peripheral, whilst those who look like classic red herrings end up being influential to how things turn out. Part of the appeal and the energy of Shadow Of A Doubt, as with other Hitchcock works, is the masterly way in which we are kept guessing and wondering. Clearly the viewer knows that something is likely to be amiss, and the portentous atmosphere early on in the film contributes to this mindset.
Joseph Cotten is excellent as the suave, but manipulative and cynical Oakley. Soon after his arrival at the Newton residence he is affable, and the sudden arrival of his sinister side, and the dissolving of the earlier jollity and levity, is disconcerting but absorbing to behold. Teresa Wright is a delight as Charlotte, who has to cope with many of her illusions being shattered.
In general, the movie has a wonderfully "organic" quality which it shares with many of the classic black and white films of that period. The period fashions and stylings are also highly appealing. My one gripe is the background music, which occasionally intrudes unnecessarily, but I guess this was a trait common to many pictures of those days.
Shadow Of A Doubt is a movie which demands very close attention, as it is easy to miss snippets of dialogue, or "clues", which will enhance one's understanding of the story. It is a highly enjoyable and rewarding film to see. The ending is also quite something!
The plot centres on a visit by Oakley (Joseph Cotten) to the family of his sister, a family which includes his niece, the young Charlotte (Teresa Wright), who rather idolizes her uncle. It soon emerges, however, that Oakley is harbouring some very dark secrets.
One of the first things which I noticed about this picture was the meticulousness of the narrative, and the care taken to build and develop the suspense. Quite apart from this, the characterizations, including the Newton household, and even the relatively minor players, ensure that this film holds the interest, almost independently of the central direction of the story line.
Some elements which seem destined to be pivotal to the story are relatively peripheral, whilst those who look like classic red herrings end up being influential to how things turn out. Part of the appeal and the energy of Shadow Of A Doubt, as with other Hitchcock works, is the masterly way in which we are kept guessing and wondering. Clearly the viewer knows that something is likely to be amiss, and the portentous atmosphere early on in the film contributes to this mindset.
Joseph Cotten is excellent as the suave, but manipulative and cynical Oakley. Soon after his arrival at the Newton residence he is affable, and the sudden arrival of his sinister side, and the dissolving of the earlier jollity and levity, is disconcerting but absorbing to behold. Teresa Wright is a delight as Charlotte, who has to cope with many of her illusions being shattered.
In general, the movie has a wonderfully "organic" quality which it shares with many of the classic black and white films of that period. The period fashions and stylings are also highly appealing. My one gripe is the background music, which occasionally intrudes unnecessarily, but I guess this was a trait common to many pictures of those days.
Shadow Of A Doubt is a movie which demands very close attention, as it is easy to miss snippets of dialogue, or "clues", which will enhance one's understanding of the story. It is a highly enjoyable and rewarding film to see. The ending is also quite something!
Labels:
1943,
alfred hitchcock,
cinema,
films,
joseph cotten,
movies
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