Gaslight(s).

 

In the early 1940s, two different film versions of Patrick Hamilton’s play Angel Street were produced. The first version was released in 1940 and titled Gaslight. The second version of this film, which kept the same title, was released just four years later. Although both films were based on the same play and follow the same basic plot line, the 1944 version of Gaslight is superior, in part due to the strong cast and Hitchcockian elements.

Directed by Thorold Dickinson, the first version of Gaslight (1940) begins with a gloomy night. The darkness and fog create the perfect setting for a gruesome murder.

It’s a lovely night for a murder…

While an elderly woman peacefully sews, a faceless man comes up behind her and strangles her.  We do not see the face of the killer; we see only his hands and his shadow as he searches the house; we watch his feet as he runs up and down the staircase. Eventually, a maid finds the body and screams for the police. In the next scene, the camera zooms in on a headline in a newspaper (a very Hitchcockian element) that reads: “DREADFUL MURDER IN PIMLICO SQUARE: BARLOW RUBIES MISSING.” Thus, the story begins.

After what seems to be a long amount of time, a young couple moves into the house where the murder took place. From the very beginning, Paul Mallen (Anton Walbrook), the husband, is a rude, unpleasant person. We never witness a great deal of love shown toward his wife, Bella (Diana Wynyard). In fact, while enraged with his wife at one point in the film, he tells her he hates her. He flirts with the maid, Nancy (Cathleen Cordell), in front of his wife. At one point in the film, Paul even goes so far as to take Nancy to a show and kiss her.

Paul Mallen and Naughty Nancy

Paul disappears at night to “work.” Mysteriously, each night, the gaslight dims as if someone were turning it on from another part of the house. Bella hears footsteps each night in the attic, which is supposedly not in use. Whenever Bella complains of these mysterious happenings to her husband, he dismisses them and leads her to believe that she is dreaming or believing things that aren’t real. He attempts to convince her that she is going mad.

Hitchcock seemed to love the idea of the charming and refined sociopath: a character idealized at the beginning of a film who later turns out to be a villain. Unfortunately, one of this film version’s lacking points is that there is never any mystery that the husband is a very bad person. His treatment of his wife is appalling from the very beginning. Throughout the film, he manipulates his wife into thinking that she is losing her mind and that she is absentmindedly losing things, stealing things, and moving things around the house. He also alienates her from her family and community; he tells their neighbors that she is not well enough for social events.

The Not So Mysterious Killer

Also, there are no trains in the first version.

The remake of Gaslight in 1944 has proven to be much more popular. Granted, the all-star cast probably had a great deal to do with the film’s success.

Although the main characters’ names and some plot details change, the story is basically the same. The husband, Gregory Anton, is played by the debonair Charles Boyer. His wife, Paula Anton, is played by the innocent and charming Ingrid Bergman. A handsome neighbor who saves the day, Brian Cameron, is played by Joseph Cotten. Last but not least, making her very first big-screen appearance is Angela Lansbury, who plays the naughty parlor maid Nancy. Director George Cukor had a promising opportunity with this dynamic cast.

Like its predecessor, this version of the film also begins with a gloomy, dark night. The camera zooms in on a newspaper headline reading: “THORNTON SQUARE MURDER UNSOLVED; STRANGLER STILL AT LARGE.” A major difference in this film is that we witness a young Paula being taken from the home where her aunt was murdered. The next scene shows Paula all grown up, a decade after her aunt was brutally murdered. She is explaining to her singing instructor that she has fallen in love. Who is the lucky fellow? The young man who plays the piano while she sings. When the piano player, Gregory Anton, expresses his love to her, she tells him that she must take some time to think things over on her own. She takes a train to a vacation location. On the train, he meets an elderly lady (Dame May Whitty) who lives on the square where her aunt was murdered. Paula is surprised to find that Gregory is waiting for her when the train stops. (Stalker.) She marries him, and they honeymoon.

In this version, the husband is very charming and romantic at the beginning. On their honeymoon, he manipulates her into agreeing to move to her aunt’s home in London:

“Paula, if you won’t laugh at me, I should like to tell you something … it’s an idea, a silly idea that’s been with me for years. I was in London once in the winter. It seemed to me there was no city in the world that was colder for the homeless, but it could be warmer to the ones who had a home. How I used to long for a home of my own. One of those white houses in little London squares with a woman I would come to love.”

Paula tells him of her aunt’s murder, and she tells him that her aunt left the house to her. This, of course, he already knows.

Paula: “I’ve found peace in loving you. I could even face that house with you.”

Gregory: “Oh, no, no, Paula, beloved, I would not ask that of you.”

Paula: “Yes, yes, you shall have your dream. You shall have your house in the square.”

In the next scene, they arrive at the house. Gregory is still nice and comforting. He listens attentively as Paula shows him the house. When she gets upset, he tries to comfort her: “How would it be if we took away all these things that remind you so of her. The painting, all this furniture, shut it away so you can’t even see it. Suppose we make it a new house with new things, beautiful things for a new, beautiful life for us?”

Gregory asks, “Now where should we put all these things?” It is Paula who suggests that they keep it in the attic. Clever, Gregory, clever.

He snaps on her when she finds a letter sent to her aunt two days before her murder. This is the first time we see his dark side, and this is what makes the film so brilliant and delightfully Hitchy, for he seemed so wonderful at the beginning of the film. He seemed so charming, so accomplished, so handsome. Slowly and subtly, however, he begins to become colder and crueler. He tells everyone he meets that his wife is ill:

Nancy: “What’s the matter with the mistress? She don’t look ill to me. Is she?”

Elizabeth: “I don’t know. Not as I can see, but the master keeps tellin’ her she is.”

On a rare outing, Paula and Gregory go to the Tower of London to view romantic sights such as the guillotine. Gregory tricks Paula into thinking that she’s lost the broach that he gave her as a gift. He also interrogates her for bowing to a man who was smiling at her:

Paula: “I have no idea who he is, Gregory. He seemed to know me.”

Gregory: “Do you usually bow to people you don’t know?”

Paula: “No, I supposed I’d met him somewhere.”

Gregory: “Are you telling me the truth?”

Paula: “Of course, why should I lie? I don’t know who he is.”

Gregory: “Yet you smile at him. Why?”

Paula: “I tell you, I wasn’t thinking. I don’t know why I did it.”

Gregory: “Like the other things.”

Paula: “What other things?”

Gregory: “Oh. Nothing. Only I’ve been noticing, Paula, that you’ve been forgetful lately.”

Paula: “Forgetful?”

Gregory: “Well, losing things … and oh, don’t look so worried, Paula. It’s nothing. You get tired …”

Paula: “Yes, that’s probably what it is. I get tired. I’m tired now, can’t we go home?”

Gregory: “Oh, no! We still have the crown jewels to see. They’re in that building over there.”

Paula: “How do you know? You’ve never been here before.”

Gregory: “The guide told us inside. Are you becoming suspicious as well as absent-minded, Paula?”

The more perceptive Paula grows, the stronger his deceptive manipulation grows against her. Unlike in the 1940 version, where we are told from the beginning that the character is going mad, we can witness her descent into self-doubt in this version. Another classic Hitchcockian element, the transference of guilt, is extremely evident in the relationship between these two characters. When the nosy but friendly Mrs. Thwaites comes to visit, Gregory tells Nancy to tell her that her mistress isn’t well enough to see her. Paula is upset, explaining that she would have liked to have seen Mrs. Thwaites. Gregory pretends that he is confused, and acts as though he was attempting to spare Paula the trouble of receiving their obnoxious neighbor: “And you thought I was being cruel to you, keeping people away from you, making you a prisoner … haha.”

Haha … ha … oh.

While both films were Hitchcockian in tone and setting, the 1944 version, complete with a murder mystery, plenty of staircase scenes, a lovable sociopath, and plenty of dark gloomy nights (as well as a train scene!), truly could be mistaken as a genuine Hitchcock product. Frankly, I’m shocked that Mr. Hitchcock wasn’t involved!

This post is one of three contributions True Classics will be making to the “Best Hitchcock Films Hitchcock Never Made” blogathon, hosted by Dorian of Tales of the Easily Distracted and Becky of ClassicBecky’s Brain Food. Check out all of the wonderful contributions throughout the week!

Like a fine wine…

 

Casablanca is my favorite film of all time. It’s one of those movies that I never tire of watching. In fact, one of my first dates with my husband was watching it while eating homemade pastaEach year we have a tradition of watching this perfect film at least once together.

Last year (7/15/2011), he surprised me with tickets to watch Casablanca accompanied by the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra at the Verizon Wireless Amphitheater, a venue that allowed us to bring blankets and watch the film from the lawn with a bottle of wine. It was a perfect summer evening; I had no idea what an amazing experience this would be. It was an incredibly moving feeling to be surrounded by hundreds of people who were laughing, crying, and cheering along with me. This film, which still has the power to move me after countless times watching it, had the same effect on so many others. The Atlanta Symphony Orchestra added a new and exciting element to the film. Because it was a live performance, there was no room for error. The Orchestra had a responsibility to maintain and enhance the sheer power of this film. I’m sure that any Casablanca fan would agree that one of the most important elements in this film is the music. Who can watch this film and not swell with emotion as Victor Lazlo commands the band to play “La Marseillaise” in an attempt to overpower the evil Major Strasser and his comrades? The Orchestra fulfilled my expectations in every way; it was indeed a compelling performance.

This year (6/14/2012) my husband and I watched Casablanca on the big screen at The Fox Theater in Atlanta. Because The Fox is designed in the theme of an Arabian desert, it was the perfect setting for Casablanca.

The Fox Theater

The previews for the movie featured a Looney Tunes version of the film: Carrotblanca. (The crowd seemed pleased with the choice of Pepe Le Pew to play Captain Renault.)

I sincerely hope that we are able to find another fantastic showing of Casablanca next year! I can’t wait to share my passion for this film with other fans all over again!

SUtS: Ingrid Bergman

Carrie’s choice: Spellbound (1945)

Airing 4:00PM EST

Today it was pretty hard to choose which movie to recommend. So, let me start by saying just set your DVR up now and record the whole thing, call in sick, get popcorn, something.

That said, I’ll get to Spellbound. To fully understand how much I liked this movie, I have to explain my history with Hitchcock.  You see, I wasn’t a particular fan. I don’t like movies where things jump out suddenly. I don’t like to be scared. I did like Strangers on a Train pretty well, but that’s it. So, when Brandie told me I had to watch this movie I was not exactly enthusiastic. “But I really want to see your opinion/interpretation.” Okay, fine. So, after being assured that things were NOT going to jump out at me, I consented to watch this, at night, no less.

Well, one of the big selling points for me on this one, as you can probably guess, was Gregory Peck. Le sigh. We put this movie on, and I’m pretty enthusiastic about a female mental health practitioner getting it done in classic film. Then Gregory Peck shows up and its’ all over. That’s not the only reason I like this movie, although Brandie may tell you that it really is. Didn’t hurt, though.

IMDB Plot Summary:

“The head of the Green Manors mental asylum Dr. Murchison is retiring to be replaced by Dr. Edwardes, a famous psychiatrist. Edwardes arrives and is immediately attracted to the beautiful but cold Dr. Constance Petersen. However, it soon becomes apparent that Dr. Edwardes is in fact a paranoid amnesiac impostor. He goes on the run with Constance who tries to help his condition and solve the mystery of what happened to the real Dr. Edwardes.”

What I like about this one is the way it’s twisted. It’s not completely predictable, and only mildly out in left-field. When watching this, you must consider the time and psychological research that was popular. That said, is all the theory used in the film terribly practical/accurate/useful- not completely. But, in Hitchcock’s defense, I’ve seen much, much worse in current film and television.  That’s about all I can say without spoiling the ending.

One of the best features, for me, was that Dr. Constance Petersen (Bergman) is an intelligent, strong heroine in the film. This is not the shrieking kind of situation one thinks of with the horror/thriller genre. Moreover, she is a competent, respected doctor. Having the female lead play a strong character, for me, greatly enhanced the movie. She is believable and as a viewer, I was able to like her and identify with her as a “real” person. So, extra cudos.

I recommend this one. It’s my favourite Hitchcock (yes, I’ve seen more since this one, but none I liked as much I enjoyed this one).

As an added bonus, if you see this film, I recommend watching Mel Brooks’ High Anxiety, which plays off of most of Hitchcock’s work, but quite a bit fits this particular film.

Enjoy!

Brandie’s choice: Gaslight (1944)

Airing 3:30AM

Closing out Bergman’s well-deserved SUtS tribute is the film which won her the first of her three Academy Awards, the prize for Best Actress.

In Gaslight, adapted from Patrick Hamilton’s play of the same name (though it was originally known as Angel Street),  Bergman plays Paula, an aspiring young opera singer. Her aunt Alice, a famed opera singer in her own right, had been murdered years previously, and Paula is haunted by her aunt’s death. She meets a charming, slick man named Gregory Anton (Charles Boyer) and falls head over heels in love; before long, the two are married, and Gregory insists that the couple move into the London townhouse left to Paula by her aunt. He also insists that, in an effort to start their lives together on a fresh slate, they pack up all of Alice’s belongings and store them in the sealed attic of the home. Soon after moving in, however, the isolated young bride begins to hear noises around the house, the gaslights throughout the home begin to flicker mysteriously for no discernible reason at all, and Paula begins to wonder if she’s going a little bit mad …

The showcase of this film is undoubtedly Bergman’s performance as the frightened, bewildered Paula. She swings between feelings of madness and coherence, joy and fear, almost seamlessly. Her always-luminous face reflects the haggard weight of her character’s many concerns, but Paula does not collapse under them; this young bride has a ribbon of steel in her spine, which we see come to full fruition in her final confrontation with her shady husband. That’s the brilliance of Bergman’s acting–she’s so subtle and layered, it takes multiple viewings sometimes to see everything she’s doing with a character. A sideways glance, a tilted eyebrow, the slight raise of her chin … she acts with her entire being. There have been only a handful to match her.

Bergman is aided in the film by a great supporting cast; Boyer is perfectly smarmy as the ne’er-do-well husband, and Joseph Cotten (one of my particular favorites) makes waves in a relatively small role as the detective who helps Paula figure out what’s happening in her home. And, somewhat notably, this film features the first-ever screen appearance of the lovely Angela Lansbury, in the not-so-pleasant role of the disdainful housemaid.

This is a great little noir-lite classic, suspenseful and entertaining, so make sure you catch it (or, if you’re not a night owl like me, record it!).

“You don’t think a woman can change?”

Notorious (1946)

Airing 6:15AM EST

One of Alfred Hitchcock’s most masterful American films, 1946′s Notorious, starring Hitch favorites Cary Grant and Ingrid Bergman, is sexy, noir-ish romantic suspense at its very best. Not for nothing was Hitchcock one of the greatest directors of all time: in this film, he combines tight camerawork, compelling narrative, excellent characterization, and gorgeous cinematography into something truly special.

Grant plays Devlin, an American government agent who convinces Alicia Huberman (Bergman), a patriotic US citizen and the daughter of a convicted Nazi, to befriend and ultimately betray her father’s former compatriots, who have established a stronghold in South America. Devlin and Alicia travel to Brazil and she captures the attention of her former beau, Alexander Sebastian (Claude Rains), who falls madly in love with Alicia and proposes. Though Alicia has fallen in love with Devlin, his studied indifference, which disguises his true feelings for her, infuriates Alicia, and she accepts Sebastian’s proposal. As she becomes ensconced in her new life as Sebastian’s wife/Devlin’s spy, she discovers unsettling details about her husband’s illegal activities, and Alicia begins to fear (rightfully) that she will become a victim of his machinations.

The screen almost lights on fire when Grant and Bergman engage in the infamous kissing scene, in which a string of embraces are edited together seamlessly in order to skirt around the Production Code’s restrictions. These two are absolutely beautiful together, despite the fact that these characters really should run far, far away from one another. These two characters virtually define the term “impossible relationship.”

Hitchcock plays with the audience’s emotions like no other director in classic Hollywood. Grant, the obvious hero of the movie, is nonetheless (for lack of a better term) an asshole. Devlin’s treatment of Alicia, whom he initially considers a wasteful dilettante, is hard to watch; as he berates her, disdain dripping from his features, you begin to wonder why Alicia feels the way she does about him. He all but calls her a whore! Even their moments of passion seem disingenuous; Devlin is quick to believe the worst of his young lover, ultimately pushing her into a dangerous marriage. Sebastian, on the other hand, is most decidedly the bad guy, yet his obvious adoration of Alicia is heartwarming and believable, and Hitchcock breeds a feeling of sympathy for the Nazi as he is shattered by the realization of his wife’s betrayal. Even in the end, having seen the lengths to which Sebastian is willing to go to protect himself and his mission, we still feel a sense of sadness about his fate. Twisted, no?

Rains brilliantly portrays the conflicted Sebastian, and Grant, who is much better known for his performances in jovial comedies, again reveals the darkness that only Hitchcock could convincingly pull out of him (as previously shown in 1941′s Suspicion, and later revisited in 1955′s To Catch a Thief and 1959′s North by Northwest). And Sebastian is not the lone villain in this film; his mother, Anna, played by Madame Konstantin, elicits shivers with every appearance. She rivals Rebecca’s Mrs. Danvers as one of the most chillingly evil female presences to ever grace the movie screen. And Sebastian’s circle of Nazi baddies, quick to eliminate even one of their own in order to protect their interests, are a frightening bunch.

But the film truly belongs to Bergman, and it ranks as one of her best. Luminous as always, she is perfectly cast as Alicia; she straddles the line between heroine and victim adeptly, and the scene in which she conceals a key in her hand, ready to steal into the cellar to discover her husband’s misdeeds (featuring the classic, amazing tracking shot from the top of the staircase to focus tightly on her clenched fist), is one of the best in the film, as she masterfully slides between fright and self-assuredness.

This film continues Hitchcock’s tradition of the MacGuffin, the inconsequential item that drives the plot. In this case, the MacGuffin, the uranium that the Nazis are mining in order to create weapons, does not ultimately matter; as viewers, we don’t particularly care about the uranium or the plot, so invested are we in Alicia’s plight and Sebastian’s fate. The use of uranium as a plot device, however, created issues for Hitchcock; he claimed that the FBI had him followed for months after researching the feasibility of using the element as a driving force in the film, as uranium was used in the creation of the atomic bomb (which was dropped on Japan the same year the movie was filmed).

Side note: for those interested, Hitchcock’s cameo comes one hour into the film, as a guest at the pivotal party in the Sebastian home.

If you’ve never seen this film, it’s time to fix that. Don’t miss this excellent thriller!

Oscar checklist:

Nominations: Best Supporting Actor (Rains), Best Screenplay

Making the case for Casablanca.

Anyone who has spent more than a couple of hours in my company is probably aware that my favorite movie of all time is 1942′s Casablanca.

I have waxed rhapsodic about this film so many times in the past that when I am asked why I choose this film over all others, I can rattle off a quick list of the qualifications that elevate Casablanca above any other movie in Hollywood history: quotable-fabulous-beautiful-inspired-and-OMG-Humphrey-Bogart-has-never-been-so-hot!

Indulge me a little fangirl moment here while I start waxing anew.

As beloved as Casablanca remains today–it has twice appeared in the top three films of all time as ranked by the American Film Institute–it wasn’t always considered so, and the source material upon which this classic is based (the 1940 play Everybody Comes to Rick’s) languished in pre-development hell for a couple of years until producer Hal Wallis championed the project. The screenplay, credited to the Epstein brothers and Howard Koch, was incomplete as shooting began; numerous writers contributed to its completion, including the film’s director, Michael Curtiz, and Wallis himself, who reportedly pitched the film’s immortal concluding line, “Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.” And still, with all the issues that emerged from trying to put the sucker together, the screenplay for Casablanca remains one of the best ever written. Frankly, the script is beyond compare, filled with some of the most engaging dialogue this side of Shakespeare.

"Here's looking at you, kid."

There’s a reason so many quotes from this film have made their way into popular culture over the years: you can’t help but repeat these amazing lines. “Play it, Sam.” “Round up the usual suspects.” “Here’s looking at you, kid.” “Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine.” The list of classic lines just goes on and on.

The film’s spot-on casting, featuring a mostly international cast of acclaimed film and theater actors, wasn’t always a given; there was much doubt, especially, that Bogart, known up until that time as “the” go-to movie tough in films such as The Petrified Forest, High Sierra, and The Maltese Falcon, could play convincingly in a leading romantic role. Ingrid Bergman was still relatively unfamiliar to American audiences, despite her success in her native Sweden and in her initial Hollywood production, the well-received Intermezzo: A Love Story (an English remake of her most successful Swedish film). And, by some accounts, Paul Henreid was so unpleasant to work with that his co-stars found themselves unwilling to make future films with the man.

Yet none of this showed on screen. Bogart thoroughly epitomized the rough-hewn tenderness that makes Rick Blaine one of the most fascinating heroes in film history. Bergman’s luminescent beauty did not detract from her deceptively simple performance as the romantically torn Ilsa Lund. The chemistry between the two leads lights up the screen and really makes you believe that these two people are madly in love with one another. And Henreid is pitch-perfect in the thankless role of straight arrow Resistance leader Victor Laszlo.

Just like any man, only more so.

The supporting cast is similarly well-chosen, especially Claude Rains as the sly, shifty French Captain Renault and Peter Lorre as ill-fated Ugarte. In addition, the movie features two of my favorite character actors, Sydney Greenstreet and S.Z. “Cuddles” Sakall (I wax rhapsodic about these two here), both of whom are simply magnificent. All in all, Casablanca’s performers are unparalleled, and it’s difficult to imagine anyone else in these roles. Can you picture, for example, Ann Sheridan or Hedy Lamarr as Ilsa (as originally proposed)? Or George Raft or Ronald Reagan as Rick? It kinda makes you shudder to even consider it, doesn’t it?

Despite some of the issues–an incomplete script, a cast no one trusted to deliver the material–surrounding its production, the film went on to win the Academy Award for Best Picture the following year (in addition to awards for Best Adapted Screenplay and Best Director). Though critical reception of the film upon its release was warm (but not effusive), over the years, Casablanca has rivaled Citizen Kane for the top position on many film critics’ “Best” lists (though, like every film, it is not without its detractors).

"You played it for her, you can play it for me!"

One of the things that those critical of Casablanca cite as evidence for their position is the “schlocky romanticism” (to quote Pauline Kael) that permeates the film. And yes, despite its war-torn setting and the intrigue surrounding the plot, it is most decidedly a romance, first and foremost. But the film transcends the typical trappings of romance.

This is Romeo and Juliet yanked into the modern world, with our American Romeo making the ultimate sacrifice–forgoing his own future happiness–for the sake of another, ensuring that his Swedish Juliet can remain free and continue the life his love unknowingly disrupted. Yet the inherent melodrama of such material does not weigh down the plot; Rick’s choice, we see, is the only reasonable one to make, the only way in which he can release himself from his self-exile in northern Africa and return to his freedom-fighter roots–to return to life, as it were. His redemption comes not only from the cliched “love of a woman,” but at the hands of his former lover’s husband, the man who helps to remind Rick that there are larger battles to fight, that the tangled romantic ties of these ultimately ordinary people “don’t amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world.”

They'll always have Paris.

All of this to say, there’s a reason why this film has become one of the most beloved classics of all time and, in my humble opinion, tops every other movie ever produced in Hollywood. It’s not just that it’s romantic, or that the performances are so moving, or that the script makes the latent writer in me want to do backflips down the interstate. It’s that the film touches something inside every single one of us. It’s a story of human experience. It’s a reflection of secret desires, of the fight for redemption that, at one time or another, all of us must undertake in order to better ourselves and the world in which we live.

Really, it’s just damn good, and that’s all that’s left to say about it.