Love Fights Hate in "The Night of the Hunter"

In addition to a gallery of memorable performances, actor Charles Laughton’s cinematic legacy includes one fling with directing—but oh what a fling it is! The Night of the Hunter is a haunting, poetic film that explores themes ranging from the battle between good and evil to the propensity of Nature to protect the innocent. The film also provides Robert Mitchum with his best role as Harry Powell, evil incarnate disguised as a preacher (what makes the character even more chilling is that Harry believes he has a special relationship with the Almighty).

Harry's hand of hate.

The film’s opening is pure Hitchcock, with a group of frolicking kids discovering a corpse in a cellar. In the next scene, we see Harry Powell driving down the countryside, talking to himself about the “six…twelve widows” he has murdered. When Harry is arrested—for car theft—he becomes the cell mate of Ben Harper (Peter Graves). Harper stole $10,000 and accidentally killed a man. However, before he was arrested, he disposed of the money with his two children, John (who’s about 11) and his younger sister Pearl. Harper makes his children swear to never divulge the hidden location of the money, not even to their mother (“You’ve got common sense; she ain’t.”).

Harry confronts young John.

The lure of $10,000 (a lot of money during the Depression) appeals greatly to Harry. Upon his release from prison, he looks up the pretty young widow Willa Harper (Shelley Winters). But young John (Billy Chapin) takes an instant dislike to the new preacher wooing the mother; it’s as if only the innocence of childhood can recognize the true nature of evil. John tries to protect his family, but when tragedy strikes, he and Pearl flee with Harry in pursuit.

The Night of the Hunter is a virtual textbook on filmmaking, with sound and image blended effortlessly to create mood. Harry’s entrances in the film are accompanied by a jarring, foreboding piece of music. Even more disturbing is when we hear Harry before we see him. In one scene, his singing filters into the children’s bedroom as he waits patiently outside the front gate (almost like a predator lurking for its prey).

Laughton’s striking use of shadows and silhouettes recall the Expressionistic German films of the 1920s (e.g., The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari). I suspect much of the credit for the brilliant lighting belongs to cinematographer Stanley Cortez, a skilled craftsman who labored in routine films except for this one and Orson Welles’ The Magnificent Ambersons.

One of Stanley Cortez's haunting images.

Billy Chapin with Lillian Gish.

As Harry Powell, Mitchum gives the performance of a lifetime. With “love” tattooed on one hand and “hate” on the other, he describes the struggle between them in one of the famous scenes in film history. To complement Mitchum’s performance, Lillian Gish brings quiet strength to her role as his eventual adversary. Just as the animals watch over the children as they drift down the river in a boat, Gish’s Mrs. Cooper guards the children (almost as if she personifies Mother Nature). At one point in the film, she even says: “I’m a strong tree with many branches for many birds.”

Since Charles Laughton never directed another picture, it’s hard to gauge how much of Night of the Hunter was his vision. Screenwriter James Agee, already a renowned film critic, went on to win a Pulitzer Prize for fiction. But for all their talent, neither Agee, Cortez, nor Mitchum made another movie to rival this one. So either it was sheer luck that all the talents gelled so wonderfully on The Night of the Hunter or Laughton provided the guidance to make it work. I tend to believe the credit belongs to Mr. Laughton.

My 100 Favorite Films: From 60 to 51

After five months, we reach the halfway point of my countdown of personal favorite films. If you're reading this series of posts for the first time, allow me to clarify that these are not what I'd consider the best 100 movies ever made (though some of them are). These films are simply one classic fan's faves. (An underlined title means there's a hyperlink to a full review at the Cafe.)

60. The Solid Gold Cadillac – Judy Holliday is sublime as Laura Partridge, a (very) minority stockholder in a major corporation who keeps questioning the company’s crooked board members during its public meetings. To keep her from badgering them, the board members hire Miss Partridge as their Director of Shareholder Relations—a “do nothing” job until she decides to make something of it. This delightful comedy teams Holliday with Paul Douglas, whose warmth is a perfect complement to her bubbly persona. Fans of Born Yesterday may disagree, but I think the underrated Solid Gold Cadillac is easily Holliday’s finest film.

59. O Lucky Man! – A lengthy tale of a young ambitious man seeking meaning in life, this Lindsay Anderson film is an acquired taste. I think it’s an underappreciated one-of-a-kind gem mixing sharp satire, impeccable performances, and an awesome score by Alan Price (who was a founding member of The Animals). Price’s songs, which serve as a Greek chorus, are so catchy that I scoured used record stores (I was a college student!) the day after I saw the film in search of its soundtrack (I found it). Malcolm McDowell reprises his role as Mick Travis from Anderson’s earlier If; the later Britannia Hospital is related, but not really a sequel. Helen Mirren and Ralph Richardson headline a great supporting cast, in which several performers play multiple roles.

Bond battles Oddjob.

58. Goldfinger – My favorite 007 film has everything going for it: a terrific villain, the first of the memorable henchmen, a strong heroine, clever gadgets, another fine John Barry score, and an ingenious plot. Plus, it boasts Sean Connery giving his best performance as Bond (it helps that 007 is emotionally invested this time around…after Goldfinger murders Jill Masterson). It also features my favorite line of dialogue in a Bond film. While strapped on a slab with a laser heading toward his private parts, 007 tells Goldfinger that he won’t talk. The villain’s famous retort: “I don’t want you to talk, Mr. Bond. I want you to die!”

Lee contemplates his next move.

57. Fist of Fury (aka The Chinese Connection) – Bruce Lee’s most traditional martial arts film recycles the vintage plot of two martial arts schools pitted against one another. In this case, the setting is Shanghai 1908 and the basis of the conflict is nationality—the bad Japanese school wants the good Chinese school closed. It’s a thin premise and, overall, the film can’t compare with the slicker Enter the Dragon. Still, it features my favorite Bruce Lee performance and the fight scenes are masterpieces of balletic violence.

56. The Fearless Vampire Killers (aka Dance of the Vampires) – I consider this cult classic a stylish parody of Hammer Films’ fangs-and-damsels formula. One’s affection for it will depend, in part, upon familiarity with the Hammer approach. All the expected ingredients are present: attractive women in low-cut attire, a Transylvanian setting, a Gothic castle, garlic hanging from the ceiling of a beer haus, a hint of eroticism, and a well-prepared vampire hunter. To this mix, Polanski adds a dash of the unexpected: a bumbling love struck assistant, a Jewish vampire, a gay vampire, and a darkly humorous ending. It’s also one of my favorite “snow movies.”

The other hand spells "hate."

55. The Night of the Hunter - Charles Laughton’s only directorial effort is a haunting, poetic film that explores themes ranging from the battle between good and evil to the propensity of Nature to protect the innocent. The film also provides Robert Mitchum with his finest role as Harry Powell, evil incarnate disguised as a preacher (what makes the character even more chilling is that Harry believes he has a special relationship with the Almighty). Laughton’s striking use of shadows and silhouettes recalls the Expressionistic German films of the 1920s (e.g., The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari). I suspect much of the credit for the brilliant lighting belongs to cinematographer Stanley Cortez, a skilled craftsman who labored in routine films except for this one and Orson Welles’ The Magnificent Ambersons.

Sandra Dee and Troy Donahue.

54. A Summer Place - Fans of Delmer Daves’ glossy New England soap opera are sharply divided between those who revere it as a classy, nostalgic sudser and those who regard it as camp. I hold the former view, for in spite of occasional plunges into overwrought drama, A Summer Place evokes genuine warmth with its tale of old love rekindled and young love flaming for the first time. Thematically, Daves’ films are always more complex than they first appear. In A Summer Place, forbidden love and innocent love are explored through a subtle form of voyeurism; everybody seems to be secretly watching everyone else. No review of a Summer Place would be complete without mentioning composer Max Steiner's haunting, lyrical musical score.

McDowell as H.G. Wells.

53. Time After Time - This ingenious concoction of science fiction, thriller, and romance comes from the fertile imagination of Nicholas Meyer (The Seven Per Cent Solution). David Warner plays Jack the Ripper, who uses H.G. Wells’ time machine to escape from London in 1893 to San Francisco in 1979—with Wells (Malcolm McDowell) in hot pursuit. Watching the two turn-of-the-century intellectuals in a contemporary setting is fascinating. Much of the film’s humor is derived from Wells’s attempts to fit in. He eats at a “Scottish restaurant” called McDonald’s. He boldly discusses his ideas on “free love” to bank employee Amy Robbins (a marvelous Mary Steenburgen), who is amused by his old-fashioned values. In contrast, Warner’s killer adapts to his new environment quickly and smoothly. In an eerie scene, he flips through several TV channels filled with violent images and informs Wells: “I belong here completely and utterly. I’m home. Ninety years ago, I was a freak. Now, I’m an amateur.”

52. Where Eagles Dare – Set in the white-capped mountains of Austria, Where Eagles Dare sends seven special forces soldiers to rescue a U.S. general being held captive by the Nazis. But this is no routine mission: the soldiers must break into an impregnable mountaintop castle, there appears to be a traitor among them, and their squad leader seems to trust no one—except the blonde agent hiding in the barn. Most of the plot takes place in the first ninety minutes, including some unexpected twists that reveal the true nature of the mission. The last hour consists of a series of explosive action sequences, the highlight being a fight atop a cable car leading from the mountain castle to the village below. Richard Burton and Clint Eastwood are the stars of this perfect popcorn movie—one of my favorite flicks to watch on snowy day.

51. To Sir With Love - In a role seemingly tailored for him, Sidney Poitier plays Mark Thackeray, a young engineer looking for a job. Unable to find one in his chosen profession, he accepts temporary employment as a teacher in an inner-city London school. It’s a bleak situation—the students are out of control, most of the teachers are burned out, and the school reflects the poverty of the surrounding neighborhood. Thackeray’s initial attempts to reach his students fail miserably, but he eventually makes a difference in their lives. Cynics criticize To Sir, With Love as simple-minded and obvious. Perhaps, it is, but the story is put across with such conviction and professionalism that it’s impossible to ignore its many charms. In particular, a subplot involving an attractive student (Judy Geeson) who develops a crush on Thackeray is handled impeccably. The film’s theme, sung by Lulu (who plays one of the students), became a huge pop hit. Director James Clavell must have recognized the song’s potential—it’s heard repeatedly throughout the picture.

Next month, I'll count another ten, including films featuring Vincent Price, Elizabeth Taylor, two Hayley Mills, Toshiro Mifune, and millions of nasty ants!

Cafe du Cinema Society Discusses "The Night of the Hunter"

Film critic Leslie Halliwell once described The Night of the Hunter as a child's terrifying fantasy.  And while much of the film is presented from a child's point of view, director Charles Laughton pulls both young and adult viewers into this fantasy world. Once inside, the viewer becomes exposed to all the horrors faced by the characters--especially the children John and Pearl. Hence, The Night of the Hunter becomes a horror film. Much of its horror is psychological---lurking beneath the film's surface in the form of horrific and suspenseful elements, the character's perversions and madnesses, and potential psychological fears and fantasies. For example, we see an owl that appears to be gentle and harmless. Yet, it suddenly swoops down and kills a rabbit. Laughton seems to be saying that horror can lurk where we least suspect it--in a wise, old owl or even a "preacher."

Do you agree that The Night of the Hunter is a horror film? If yes, how does Laughton create horror and suspense in his film? And if you disagree, let's hear some feedback as to why! Remember, the Cafe du Cinema Society is all about interactive, online discussion.