Ebert's Greats #1: The Night of the Hunter (1955)

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Director: Charles Laughton
Starring: Robert Mitchum, Lillian Gish

I've long been a fan of Roger Ebert's Great Films list and since there are a ton of films on that list that I haven't seen yet, I've decided to take it on as an ongoing personal project and work my way through, sort of like a directed viewing guide. There are a number of films from the list that I have seen and, in fact, already reviewed but that still leaves a couple hundred films for me to experience and/or write about for the first time. I'll be starting with The Night of the Hunter, Charles Laughton's moody, atmospheric and altogether excellent thriller.

On the face of it, the story of The Night of the Hunter is pretty simple. It involves two children - John (Billy Chapin) and Pearl (Sally Jane Bruce) - who know the location of $10k that their father stole and hid before being apprehended by the police and hanged for the crime. Their father's former cellmate, "Reverend" Harry Powell (Robert Mitchum), shows up, sweet talks their newly widowed mother (Shelley Winters) into marriage, murders her, and then terrorizes the children as he tries to get at the money. The kids eventually find refuge with Rachel Cooper (Lillian Gish), a force of good just as powerful as the evil represented by the relentless Powell.

The story is told in very simple and direct terms. The children are innocents, blank slates who live moment to moment, for whom events (with one notable exception) have no permanent meaning. Shortly after their father dies, John and Pearl are subjected to taunting by other children. When Pearl begins to repeat the chant, John tells her not to - not because it's disrespectful to the memory of their father but because she's "not old enough." Later when Pearl asks if he thinks their mother is dead, John simply says that yes, he believes she is. They see the world in black and white and the film itself seems to see things that way as well, unfolding in a dreamy, fairytale way with little ambiguity in terms of "good" and "evil."

If the world of children is one of innocence, the world of adults is one of corruption. The adult world is one of vice, hypocrisy, greed and violence - with the exception of Rachel. Powell famously has the words "love" and "hate" tattooed on his hands and delivers a speech in which he explains the history of the battle between the two, a speech which ultimately foreshadows his scenes with Rachel towards the end of the film. Two of the best things about this film are the characters of Powell and Rachel (especially as they are played by Mitchum and Gish). Powell is a memorable and truly terrifying villain, but Rachel is just as powerful, a strong, principled woman who refuses to back down and be intimidated. There isn't a lot of "action" in their confrontation, but it's epic because they're such distinctly and intensely drawn characters.

The Night of the Hunter was the only film that Charles Laughton would direct, a real shame since he proves to be an incredibly effective presence behind the camera. The story is told in an efficient way that keeps the tension at an incredible high from beginning to end (the score by Walter Schumann and cinematography by Stanley Cortez certainly help) and the acting is strong throughout (Mitchum gets some credit for that since Laughton's dislike of children made it necessary for Mitchum to take the reigns in many of the scenes involving Chapin and Bruce). Laughton is a strong visual stylist and throughout the film he composes some really great shots - it makes you wonder what else he would have done had this film been better received by critics and audiences when it was released. But history has been the true judge of this one, now considered a classic, and it is definitely deserving of that status.

100 Days, 100 Movies: Out of the Past (1947)

Director: Jacques Tourneur
Starring: Robert Mitchum, Jane Greer, Kirk Douglas

Bogart is probably the actor most closely associated with Noir as a genre, but no actor has ever seemed to belong here as much as Robert Mitchum. He just seems so weary, as if he’s seen it all and nothing surprises him anymore. Here he plays Jeff Markham, aka Jeff Bailey, a private detective who, in a twist on convention, not only isn’t successful in completing the case he was hired to solve, but ends up as hunted rather than hunter.

The film begins with Jeff going by the name Bailey, living in a small town and working at a gas station. Someone from his past as Jeff Markham sees him and he’s summoned to a meeting with Whit Sterling (Kirk Douglas), a man he once double crossed. On the way to the meeting, he reveals his past to his girlfriend and the film flashes back. Sterling hired Jeff Markham to find his former mistress, Kathie (Jane Greer) and the money she took from him. Jeff goes to Acapulco and finds her but falls in love in the process. He agrees to run off with her, she double crosses him, and he attempts to disappear into the life of Jeff Bailey. Jeff senses that the present day meeting with Whit is a trap and arrives to find… Kathie. She seems set on getting her hooks into him again. He seems set on letting her… or is he? The film plays out like a chess game with the three major players – Jeff, Kathie and Whit – making their moves in anticipation of the other two. We’re never really sure who, exactly, is coming out on top until the very end.

The relationship between Jeff and Kathie is fascinating. From the first, Jeff senses that he’s on the verge of falling for her, that it would be best to keep some distance from her, but he goes ahead anyway. Is it that her pull is just that strong, or is he looking to use her as an excuse to get out of a life that has obviously left him unfulfilled? The combination of Kathie and the money she stole from Whit certainly looks appealing from Jeff’s point of view. Who Kathie is as a person doesn’t much matter to him. In one of their best exchanges Kathie attempts to convince Jeff that she’s innocent. “Baby, I don’t care,” is his reply, said in a way that only Mitchum could say it. They run off together, but Whit’s henchmen catch up to them. Kathie shoots one, perhaps unnecessarily. The look that Mitchum gives her when she does this manages to sum up everything that you need to know about this movie. He knows that she isn’t the innocent she’s playing at, he knows that she’s going to do whatever it takes to take care of herself, and he doesn’t care anymore because he’s so far gone. It is an absolutely perfect look, one that lasts a handful of seconds but leaves a lasting impression. When they meet again years later, they do a dance of contempt and attraction, neither wanting to end up the loser for the sake of the other, but each attracted to the other as strongly as before. Mitchum and Greer have great chemistry and completely sell their love-hate-love relationship.

Kirk Douglas, in only his second film role, is effective as the villain, quickly establishing himself as the menacing presence which will guide the story to its inevitable conclusion. He brings an almost eerie calm to this character, a man who can wait patiently for revenge because he values the fact of it more than the speed of it. His lines are all laced with a bitter, warning edge. In any given film, a Robert Mitchum character isn’t likely to be intimidated, but Douglas comes about as close as anyone possibly could.

Out of the Past has a lot going for it just based on the cast alone, but it also boasts an excellent screenplay. Most of the best lines go to Mitchum (as well they should – he just has a way with these kinds of lines), but there’s more than enough to go around in this endlessly quotable film. “I don’t want to die,” Kathie tells Jeff. “Neither do I,” he replies, “but if I have to, I’ll die last.” With a character like Jeff – played by an actor like Mitchum - you’d expect nothing less.