Showing posts with label leopard man. Show all posts
Showing posts with label leopard man. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 29, 2014

The Leopard Man features "one of the greatest horror sequences ever filmed"

The accolade in the title of this review comes from director William Friedkin, who knows a little about creating horror (The Exorcist) and suspense (the chase scene in The French Connection). Of course, I didn't need Mr. Friedkin to tell me what I already knew. I saw The Leopard Man as a kid and that specific scene etched itself into my brain. Among classic film buffs, it holds its own against more famous sequences of implied horror like the rolling ball in Fritz Lang's M.

Are the screams behind the door a
childish ploy or a frightening reality?
The Leopard Man, though, is more than a one-tricky pony. It's a fascinating suspense film set in a small New Mexico town (atmospherically created on an RKO backlot). The catalyst for the plot is a black leopard that escapes during a foolish publicity stunt. When a young girl is found clawed to death, the leopard is blamed--but was it the killer?

Some critics have complained that The Leopard Man lacks the psychological complexity of Val Lewton's other RKO thrillers, such as The Cat People and The Seventh Victim. There may be some truth to that, but it makes up for any thematic deficiencies with an intriguing structure and three visually chilling sequences.

Clo-Clo cloaked in shadows.
Screenwriters Ardel Wray and Edward Dein break conventional narrative structure by shifting the story focus when characters interact. For example, after being introduced to castanets dancer Clo-Clo (Margo), we follow her as she walks down a shadow-filled street. She talks with the fortune-teller, playfully waves her hand through a ring of cigarette smoke, and smiles at lovers kissing. Then, as Clo-Clo walks past a young girl looking out the window, the plot shifts to that girl. Later, when Clo-Clo stops at a street florist, we follow another customer to the house where she works and, again, the plot shifts to follow different characters. In both instances, the new characters become murder victims. (Interestingly, Alfred Hitchcock used a slight variation of this same narrative device 17 years later in Psycho).

The end result of the film's unusual narrative is that it keeps the viewer in a state of unease by casting aside expectations. Director Jacques Tourneur plays with viewer expectations in other ways as well. In one scene, we follow Clo-Clo down a darkened street. We expect something bad to happen, but then she reaches the safety of her home. Tourneur gives the viewer a few seconds to exhale a sigh of relief before Clo-Clo realizes she dropped something valuable on the street and goes back out into the threatening shadows.

In addition to the almost constant state of unease, Tourneur tosses in the three chilling sequences mentioned earlier. The first--and the one mentioned by Friedkin--involves a girl sent by her irritated mother to buy flour. To say more would be spoil the impact...although the scene has been copied to the point that it may not be as disturbing to new viewers as it once was.

The second of the three scenes is classic Lewton, with a young woman trapped in a spooky cemetery at sunset. She hears a man outside the cemetery wall and asks for help. He leaves to get a ladder, giving us false expectations (again) that nothing bad will happen.

The final scene, during the climax, isn't really suspenseful. It is, though, visually unhinging with a contingent of hooded figures leading a column of men with candles as they march against a gray textured sky (again, amazingly, on the RKO backlot).


Everytime I watch Val Lewton's horror films, I seem have a new favorite. Last year, after watching The Seventh Victim, it moved into my top spot...replacing The Cat People. That said, the one that keeps coming back to haunt me is The Leopard Man. It's a unique, one-of-a-kind thriller and it does indeed feature one of the greatest horror sequences ever filmed. Plus, I just watched it.

Thursday, July 28, 2011

My 100 Favorite Films: From 40 to 31

This month’s countdown list features a double dose of Sidney Poitier and two very different science fiction films. As always, please keep in mind that these films are not what I'd consider the best 100 movies ever made. They are simply one classic fan's favorites. (An underlined title means there's a hyperlink to a full review at the Cafe.)

40. Out of the Past- My favorite film noir has Robert Mitchum as a man who has put his shady past behind him and found love with a good woman in a small community where he operates a gas station. But, as is often the case in the movies, his past catches up with him when a former acquaintance passes through town. With its contrasts of bright lights and dark shadows, Out of the Past is a visual feast. It’s also a compelling tale of a man pulled back into the shadows of his past—no matter how hard he tries to escape them. Kirk Douglas nails the manipulating villain; too bad he didn’t play more bad guys. Yet, despite the presence of Mitchum and Douglas, the film belongs to Jane Greer, an underrated and under-utilized actress who created one of the genre’s best femme fatales.

39. The Andromeda Strain – This superior science fiction outing pits four dedicated scientists against a microscopic menace capable of destroying all life on Earth. Its critics have labeled it slow-moving and overlong, but I find it intellectually exciting. Its thrills come not from action sequences (though there’s a doozy at the climax), but from the time-sensitive need to determine: What is the Andromeda Strain? How can it be destroyed? Why did a 69-year-old man and a six-month-old baby survive when Andromeda wiped out a New Mexico town of 68 people? Part of the appeal for me is that The Andromeda Strain includes one of my favorite plot devices: the forming of a team in which each member is introduced to the audience.

38. Lilies of the Field – A quiet film that has grown in my affection, Lilies contains my favorite Sidney Poitier performance. His Homer Smith is a stubborn man who is delightfully at odds with himself… and with a savvy Mother Superior. A drifter, Homer stops at a small farm run by nuns in the Arizona desert. He agrees to do a small roof repair and winds up building a chapel. The gentle conflict between Homer and the Mother Superior (wonderfully played by Lilia Skala) forms the heart of the film. But I also love how Lilies captures the flavor of the community, encapsulated in my favorite scene in which some local workers gradually force their assistance on Homer as he builds “his” chapel.

37. In the Heat of the Night - This racially-charged mystery, 1968’s Oscar winner for Best Picture, has aged gracefully over the years. The secret to its success can be attributed to its many layers. Peel back the mystery plot and you have a potent examination of racial tension in the South in the 1960s. Peel that back and you have a rich character study of two lonely police detectives, from completely different backgrounds, who gradually earn each other’s respect. Sidney Poitier and Rod Steiger shine in the lead roles and Sidney delivers one of my all-time favorite lines of dialogue.

36. Executive Suite - The president of Tredway, the nation’s third-largest furniture manufacturer, dies unexpectedly in the opening scene. With no successor named, the company falls into the hands of five vice-presidents with equal authority. Since Wall Street viewed Tredway as a one-man company, the VPs realize the criticality of naming a a new president over the weekend—thus creating a high stakes battle for company control. The all-star cast (which includes Holden, March, and Stanwyck) is in fine form. However, it’s the film’s theme of quality vs. profit that always intrigued me. Indeed, I first saw this film in a college business course. It’s often compared to Rod Serling’s Patterns, another corporate drama made in the 1950s. It’s very good, with a killer ending, but Executive Suite is more entertaining.

35. To Kill a Mockingbird – For many fans, this film’s appeal lies with its literary origins and Gregory Peck’s powerhouse performance. While that’s also somewhat true for me, my favorite part of Mockingbird is its portrait of a time and a place through the eyes of a child. I don’t think any movie has done a better job of that (my runner-up is the French two-part film My Father’s Glory/My Mother’s Castle). Additionally, Mary Badham and Phillip Alford give incredibly naturalistic performancea as the children. Badham was equally good in This Property Is Condemned. Mockingbird is full of magical moments, with my favorite being Atticus’s formal introduction of Boo Radley.

34. Von Ryan’s Express - Released in 1965, just two years after The Great Escape, Von Ryan’s Express also tells the tale of a daring escape from a prisoner-of-war (POW) camp during World War II. While both films split their running times between scenes inside the camp and outside the fence (once the prisoners break out), the similarity ends there. A near-perfect blend of suspense, intense action sequences, and occasional humor, Von Ryan’s Express takes off when the prisoners hijack a German train. OK, I admit I’m a sucker for train movies—but this one is a gripping thriller with a flawed hero well-played by Frank Sinatra. I always thought Sinatra was an odd star, capable of excellent performances (here and in The Manchurian Candidate) and truly awful ones (The Detective).

33. Picnic – William Holden stars as a handsome drifter who wanders into a small town to see old chum Cliff Robertson…and inadvertently steals his girlfriend Kim Novak. Based on William Inge’s play, Picnic is about taking chances, whether it’s in the pursuit of passion (and perhaps love) or whether it’s two lonely middle-aged people willing to take a chance on each other. I know film buffs who may cringe when I say it, but Picnic is at heart a big screen soap opera—and that’s not a bad thing. My Mom loved this genre and when I watched these soaps with her as a kid, I called them “people stories”—apparently because characters talked a lot instead of engaging in swordfights, hunting vampires, etc.

32. The Leopard Man – Set in a small New Mexico town, this fascinating Val Lewton-produced suspense film concerns a black leopard that escapes during a foolish publicity stunt. When a young girl is found clawed to death, the leopard is blamed—but was it the killer? Leopard Man is justly famous for what Exorcist director William Friedkin once called "one of the greatest horror sequences ever filmed." However, it’s more than a one-trick pony. I’m surprised that film critics rarely note its complex, interweaving narrative structure in which the plot sometimes zigs and zags as the characters interact. I can’t think of many other films like it, except for La Ronde, in which the narrative device is much more obvious.

31. Quatermass and the Pit – Construction workers uncover the ancient skulls of “ape men” while working in a deserted underground subway station in the Hobbs End area of London. A scientist dates the ape men’s remains as five million years old, making them the earliest known ancestors of humans. His work comes to a sharp halt, though, when the excavations unearth a large metallic-like object in the rock. Is it a bomb? A spacecraft? And what does it have to do with stories of former Hobbs End residents claiming to have heard odd noises and experienced visions of “hideous dwarfs”? Writer Nigel Kneale hatched this incredibly inventive melding of science fiction and horror, the third film in the Quatermass series. Too many films are labeled “one of a kind,” but this little gem truly fits the definition.

Next month, I’ll count down the next ten, which include a gimmicky mystery, the greatest color film ever made, and a whole lotta dogs.