Love Letters (1945). During World War II, soldier Allen Quinton (Joseph Cotten) writes eloquent love letters on behalf of his less‑articulate comrade Roger. The woman receiving them, Victoria (Jennifer Jones), falls in love with the writer--whom she believes is Roger. She and Roger later wed, but the marriage ends in tragedy. The trauma results in amnesia, with Victoria forgetting everything about her past except the name Singleton. After the war, Allen struggles with PTSD. At a low point in his life, he meets a beautiful, strange woman with whom he connects instantly. She goes by a one-word name: Singleton.
Jennifer Jones and Joseph Cotten.
Ayn Rand (The Fountainhead) penned the screenplay Love Letters from the novel Pity the Simplicity by Christopher Massie. It's a canny mixture of Cyrano de Bergerac and Random Harvest, though it never reaches those heights in terms of drama. The film's first half works best, with its emphasis on Allen and Singleton and their evolving relationship. Eventually, though, it turns into a somewhat conventional mystery with Allen trying to figure out what happened on the tragic night that caused the amnesia.
Jennifer Jones gives one of her most restrained performances. However, Cotten anchors the film with his quiet compassion. Surprisingly, he was the second choice for the role of Allen, with Gregory Peck turning down the part. The strong supporting cast includes a very likable Ann Richards, Cecil Kellaway in a role that should have been larger, and Glady Cooper in a brief, compelling appearance.
Love Letters earned four Academy Award nominations: Best Actress for Jennifer Jones; Best Score and Best Song for Victor Young; and Best Art Direction (black & white).
I always find a certain charm about Hollywood's recreation of England in the 1930s and 1940s (see The Ghost and Mrs. Muir, The Uninvited). Love Letters is another fine example, aided by Lee Garmes' evocative cinematography. The acclaimed Garmes worked with Jennifer Jones on three films, the other two being Since You Went Away (1944) and Duel in the Sun (1946).
The Groundstar Conspiracy (1972). A sabotage attempt at a top‑secret research facility leaves a single survivor: a badly injured man who insists he has no memory of who he is or why he was there. Government investigator Tuxan (George Peppard) becomes convinced the man—now calling himself Welles—is a spy, and he pressures him for answers. As Welles (Michael Sarrazin) struggles to piece together fragments of his identity, a larger web of deception emerges, revealing that the truth behind the break‑in is far stranger and more unsettling than anyone expected.
George Peppard as Tuxan.
The Groundstar Conspiracy was one of several amnesia films made in the 1960s and early 1970s (others include Mirage, Mister Buddwing, and Jigsaw). It's an efficiently made movie that holds interest without delivering the thrill its teases. The big twist at the climax, while lacking originally, works surprisingly well. And that's important in a film like this, because if the "big reveal" is a letdown, then the audience may feel ripped off for investing its time in a shoddy product.
George Peppard's "hero," Tuxan, is an unlikable, relentless security expert. To potentially gain information, he has no qualms about using a hidden camera to film an innocent woman--even when she is making love. Thematically, Tuxan's belief that potential intelligence outweighs an individual's privacy is the most provocative part of The Groundstar Conspiracy and an issue that remains relevant today. However, even of exploring this theme in depth (as The Conversation would do later), The Groundstar Conspiracy is content to function as disposable thriller.
Peppard is well cast, having long ago jettisoned the romantic, nice guy roles that stifled his early career (e.g., Home from the Hill, Breakfast at Tiffany's). He brings a hard edge and a rebellious attitude toward authority to his role. Michael Sarrazin does what he can as the amnesiac, but it's a thankless part to some extent because he essentially functions as what Hitchcock would call the MacGuffin.
I first saw The Groundstar Conspiracy on NBC's Monday Night at the Movies in the 1970s. While I forgot the plot over the years, the opening always stuck with me because of a very long pre-title sequence (an oddity at the time).