Showing posts with label Henry James. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Henry James. Show all posts
Saturday, October 06, 2018
favorite movie #65 - halloween edition: the innocents
Favorite movies that have had an impact on me - #65 - The Innocents (1961) - Such a gorgeous, haunting, ultimately disturbing film. I have written it about it twice, once as an analysis (a second look at ... the innocents) and once as a review of the Criterion Blu-ray release (the innocents). Deborah Kerr gives an amazing performance as governess Miss Giddens. If you've never seen it, now is the time.
Labels:
1960s,
Henry James,
Horror,
Horror film,
movies,
scary movies,
the innocents,
Turn of the Screw
Monday, November 03, 2014
the innocents
Perfect for the Halloween season, The Criterion Collection has released a gorgeous DVD version of the classic ghost film, The Innocents
, starring Deborah Kerr. Based on Henry James's novella The Turn of the Screw, The Innocents is part ghost/horror film, part psychological drama.
James's story concerns a naive, inexperienced young governess who is hired to care for two precocious children, sister and brother Flora and Miles (Pamela Franklin and Martin Stephens). Their uncle (Michael Redgrave), seemingly uninterested in anything about his charges except that they are provided for, sends Miss Giddens to his country estate, Bly, with the strict instruction of not bothering him with anything - ever. He also asks her if she has an imagination, which may seem like a strange question at first, but will become more and more important as the story progresses. Both Miss Giddens and the audience must decipher if what they are seeing is truly occurring.
Director Jack Clayton never really answers some of the questions posed by the film, either: Are the ghosts real, or just imagined by Miss Giddens (Kerr)? Leaving the mystery open to interpretation helps involve the audience more deeply in the story. Are we seeing what is really happening, or what is in Miss Giddens's mind? Deborah Kerr gives perhaps the best performance of her career as a woman who is determined to do the right thing, but whose actions, spurred on by her religious and sheltered upbringing, may bring disaster to everyone.
It is interesting that the two orphaned children's parents are never mentioned. They are surrounded by surrogate parents - seen and unseen - and with an uncle who is uninvolved in their lives and a governess who is overly preoccupied with their welfare. The only other (living) adult on the scene is the housekeeper Mrs. Grose (Megs Jenkins), who at first seems to respect and agree with Miss Giddens and her assessment of the situation, but, who, gradually, like the audience, begins to wonder what exactly Miss Giddens believes she is seeing.
The new transfer, a 4K digital restoration, is immaculate, with rich blacks and grays. The film is in widescreen format, with an aspect ration of 2.35:1, and looks great on a large screen, high-definition television. The sound quality is excellent, too, with the score and dialogue sharp and clear. There are some wonderful extras on the disc, including an introduction by cultural historian Christopher Frayling (who also does the audio commentary); an interview with cinematographer John Bailey; a "making of" featurette, with interviews with director of photography Freddie Francis, editor John Clark, and script supervisor Pamela Mann Francis. The DVD also includes an attractive pull-out with cast, credits, a film still, and an essay by critic Maitland McDonagh.
The gothic horror of The Innocents is not graphic, but it is scary and creepy in the extreme. Full of shadows and dark desires, one will need to watch and decide for oneself what exactly is or isn't happening. It's a wonderful addition to the Criterion Collection and any horror film aficionado's list of must-see movies.
Original published on Blogcritics
James's story concerns a naive, inexperienced young governess who is hired to care for two precocious children, sister and brother Flora and Miles (Pamela Franklin and Martin Stephens). Their uncle (Michael Redgrave), seemingly uninterested in anything about his charges except that they are provided for, sends Miss Giddens to his country estate, Bly, with the strict instruction of not bothering him with anything - ever. He also asks her if she has an imagination, which may seem like a strange question at first, but will become more and more important as the story progresses. Both Miss Giddens and the audience must decipher if what they are seeing is truly occurring.
![]() |
| What (or who) does Miss Giddens see? |
Director Jack Clayton never really answers some of the questions posed by the film, either: Are the ghosts real, or just imagined by Miss Giddens (Kerr)? Leaving the mystery open to interpretation helps involve the audience more deeply in the story. Are we seeing what is really happening, or what is in Miss Giddens's mind? Deborah Kerr gives perhaps the best performance of her career as a woman who is determined to do the right thing, but whose actions, spurred on by her religious and sheltered upbringing, may bring disaster to everyone.
Miss Giddens, "But above anything else, I love the children."
It is interesting that the two orphaned children's parents are never mentioned. They are surrounded by surrogate parents - seen and unseen - and with an uncle who is uninvolved in their lives and a governess who is overly preoccupied with their welfare. The only other (living) adult on the scene is the housekeeper Mrs. Grose (Megs Jenkins), who at first seems to respect and agree with Miss Giddens and her assessment of the situation, but, who, gradually, like the audience, begins to wonder what exactly Miss Giddens believes she is seeing.
The new transfer, a 4K digital restoration, is immaculate, with rich blacks and grays. The film is in widescreen format, with an aspect ration of 2.35:1, and looks great on a large screen, high-definition television. The sound quality is excellent, too, with the score and dialogue sharp and clear. There are some wonderful extras on the disc, including an introduction by cultural historian Christopher Frayling (who also does the audio commentary); an interview with cinematographer John Bailey; a "making of" featurette, with interviews with director of photography Freddie Francis, editor John Clark, and script supervisor Pamela Mann Francis. The DVD also includes an attractive pull-out with cast, credits, a film still, and an essay by critic Maitland McDonagh.
The gothic horror of The Innocents is not graphic, but it is scary and creepy in the extreme. Full of shadows and dark desires, one will need to watch and decide for oneself what exactly is or isn't happening. It's a wonderful addition to the Criterion Collection and any horror film aficionado's list of must-see movies.
Original published on Blogcritics
Tuesday, October 04, 2011
a second look at ... the innocents
Major plot points are discussed and revealed in my musings on a gorgeously-filmed movie that should be on everyone's "to-see" or "re-watch" list.
I have read Henry James's The Turn of the Screw a few times and am always impressed, but also a little disappointed, by its ambiguity. Is it a ghost story, a psychological piece, or a little bit of both? James brilliantly never completely answers the reader's questions, leaving his mystery open to interpretation.
When I first saw the 1961 movie The Innocents (directed by Jack Clayton and written by William Archibald and Truman Capote), based on James's short story, I thought I was watching a horror movie/ghost story. But after watching it again recently I came down more on the side of psychological drama. Deborah Kerr gives a brilliant performance of a woman gradually coming apart. She plays Miss Giddens, a young woman very ignorant of the ways of the world, who takes her first job as governess to two orphaned children (Martin Stephens and Pamela Franklin). Their uncle, seemingly disinterested in their lives, has had them raised by others since infancy at his country estate, Bly. Miss Giddens's predecessor, a Miss Jessel, recently died, spurring the uncle to quickly hire the inexperienced Miss Giddens to take her place.
The daughter of a minister, Miss Giddens has led a sheltered life, and is unprepared to be in charge of a large household and two precocious children. Little by little she learns that life at Bly has been more than a little strange. The children are decidedly odd, and sometimes act too mature for their years.
Her sleep is disturbed at night, with dreams haunted by Quint, whose portrait she found in the attic. Repressed and sexually frustrated, she transfers her feelings to the children, cloaking her emotions in her concern for their welfare. But her fears for the children — that they have been exposed to something too mature for them, which has tainted them — she then does herself. She hovers over them and becomes far too intimate with them, especially Miles.
In some misbegotten pseudo-psychological and quasi-religious fervor she insists that the children confront the "ghosts" of their past and admit what they have seen. But does she want to get them to admit that they have seen the ghosts of Quint and Miss Jessel, or that they witnessed the pair perform lewd acts (or performed such acts themselves)? She drives Flora to hysterics — it's unclear whether the child will ever recover. She hounds Miles until he admits why he was recently expelled from school — for hurting animals and scaring his classmates with foul language and inappropriate behavior — until he collapses, apparently dead.
And then the kiss. More than just a kiss goodbye, she kisses him tenderly on the mouth. A lover's kiss. And so creepy. And I'm back to thinking that The Innocents is a horror story, and the scariest character is the governess.
With its beautiful photography and '60's-style close-ups and camera angles by cinematographer Freddie Francis, The Innocents is a visual treat. For people who like their gothic horror scary but not graphic, it is the perfectly restrained, yet spooky story. Like Miss Giddens, The Innocents is smooth on the surface, but full of shadows and dark feelings. You will need to watch closely and decide for yourself if what you are seeing is real, or just the fevered imaginings of a dangerous child-woman.
I have read Henry James's The Turn of the Screw a few times and am always impressed, but also a little disappointed, by its ambiguity. Is it a ghost story, a psychological piece, or a little bit of both? James brilliantly never completely answers the reader's questions, leaving his mystery open to interpretation.
When I first saw the 1961 movie The Innocents (directed by Jack Clayton and written by William Archibald and Truman Capote), based on James's short story, I thought I was watching a horror movie/ghost story. But after watching it again recently I came down more on the side of psychological drama. Deborah Kerr gives a brilliant performance of a woman gradually coming apart. She plays Miss Giddens, a young woman very ignorant of the ways of the world, who takes her first job as governess to two orphaned children (Martin Stephens and Pamela Franklin). Their uncle, seemingly disinterested in their lives, has had them raised by others since infancy at his country estate, Bly. Miss Giddens's predecessor, a Miss Jessel, recently died, spurring the uncle to quickly hire the inexperienced Miss Giddens to take her place.

Does Miss Giddens really see Quint over Miles's shoulder?
The daughter of a minister, Miss Giddens has led a sheltered life, and is unprepared to be in charge of a large household and two precocious children. Little by little she learns that life at Bly has been more than a little strange. The children are decidedly odd, and sometimes act too mature for their years.
Miles, reassuring Miss Giddens about a noise outside the window, "It was only the wind, my dear."They are constantly whispering to each other and seem to have a secret life that they won't share with their governess. Is she reading too much into childish behavior, or have the children been corrupted somehow? After gossiping with the housekeeper Mrs. Grose (Megs Jenkins) about the previous governess and her relationship with the uncle's valet, the also recently-deceased Mr. Quint (Peter Wyngarde), Miss Giddens starts to piece together what she believes had been occurring at Bly. She is scandalized by the brazen affair carried on by her predecessors in full view she surmises, of the children — but she also becomes obsessed by it, and keeps pressing the housekeeper for more and more details.

Flora watches Miss Giddens toss and turn in her sleep
Her sleep is disturbed at night, with dreams haunted by Quint, whose portrait she found in the attic. Repressed and sexually frustrated, she transfers her feelings to the children, cloaking her emotions in her concern for their welfare. But her fears for the children — that they have been exposed to something too mature for them, which has tainted them — she then does herself. She hovers over them and becomes far too intimate with them, especially Miles.
In some misbegotten pseudo-psychological and quasi-religious fervor she insists that the children confront the "ghosts" of their past and admit what they have seen. But does she want to get them to admit that they have seen the ghosts of Quint and Miss Jessel, or that they witnessed the pair perform lewd acts (or performed such acts themselves)? She drives Flora to hysterics — it's unclear whether the child will ever recover. She hounds Miles until he admits why he was recently expelled from school — for hurting animals and scaring his classmates with foul language and inappropriate behavior — until he collapses, apparently dead.
And then the kiss. More than just a kiss goodbye, she kisses him tenderly on the mouth. A lover's kiss. And so creepy. And I'm back to thinking that The Innocents is a horror story, and the scariest character is the governess.
Miss Giddens: But above anything else, I love the children.
With its beautiful photography and '60's-style close-ups and camera angles by cinematographer Freddie Francis, The Innocents is a visual treat. For people who like their gothic horror scary but not graphic, it is the perfectly restrained, yet spooky story. Like Miss Giddens, The Innocents is smooth on the surface, but full of shadows and dark feelings. You will need to watch closely and decide for yourself if what you are seeing is real, or just the fevered imaginings of a dangerous child-woman.
Labels:
Deborah Kerr,
Freddie Francis,
ghost story,
Henry James,
Horror,
Innocents,
movies,
Turn of the Screw
Tuesday, January 04, 2011
love nineteenth century american-style
I've been on a Jennifer Jason Leigh kick lately. I recently watched Washington Square, based on the short novel by Henry James. I had been on a Henry James novel-reading kick a few years ago (I go on a lot of kicks), but hadn't gotten around to reading Washington Square. Luckily Google Books has a free download, so I could skim a few important scenes to see how the film's interpretation compared to the original text. I'll be reading it in it's entirety later, I'm sure, probably on the iPad. Ah, modernity.
Modernity is an element absent from the novel, which is strictly Victorian—American-style, in its telling of the ill-fated romance of New Yorkers Catherine Sloper and Morris Townsend. The filmmaker Agnieszka Holland has, without greatly altering the original novel's text, allowed her heroine to become a nascent feminist by the story's conclusion. The film is a more faithful rendition than the B&W movie The Heiress, which starred Olivia de Haviland and Montgomery Clift that I caught on late-night t.v. many years ago. The Heiress, based on a stage play version of Washington Square, is also a great film. The two versions are different enough to be enjoyed differently. The Heiress
plays at times like a mystery, with Clift's motives more ambiguous, and de Havilland's Catherine a harder character than Leigh's, exacting revenge on Clift at the end:
The essence of the plot—and be warned, I'm pretty much giving it all away here—is that a young woman, heiress to her father's substantial fortune, is pursued by a very handsome young man who has no money of his own. Her father suspects that he is a gold digger and tries to prevent the match, threatening to disinherit his daughter. The young man eventually breaks it off, presumably because the girl, although still rich, will not be filthy rich. Years later, after the father has died, he comes to reconcile with her, but she sends him packing. Depending on how you read the scene, in book and both films, you can interpret Morris's intentions towards Catherine as purely mercenary, or maybe not always. The story is basically an actor's paradise, as it is full of opportunities to play both repressed and exuberant emotions.
In Washington Square
Jennifer Jason Leigh's Catherine Sloper is practically housebound. In an early scene she is a bird in a cage, as she sits by the window watching the world go by, waiting each day for her father, an eminent doctor, played by Albert Finney, to return from work. Dr. Sloper still mourns his wife who died having his only daughter. If he possessed the imagination to view his daughter as a bird, she would be a dull common sparrow in his eyes. He is a man who doesn't really care for his only child much, who is embarrassed by her awkward physicality and over-affectionate nature. He is also, at times, an utter shit to her.
The film has some nice visual touches. The Sloper's house is beautiful—full of polished surfaces and gleaming objects—but it's just an address, with no soul, no love inside. Catherine's love of music, her desire to perform but accompanied by her horrible stage fright—hint at suppressed passion yearning for an opportunity, an outlet. She is inexpertly watched and taught during the day by her aunt and companion, Lavinia Penniman, played brilliantly by Maggie Smith. Ignored by her father and other relatives she is just aching for someone to teach her a bit about life. Enter Morris Townsend.

Both women fall almost immediately in love with Morris, played by Ben Chaplin, with tousled hair and sensual mouth. It's easy to see why Catherine literally goes weak in the knees in his presence, before, during and after he kisses her. The poor girl never had a chance. Ah, but men can be such a disappointment sometimes. Both Morris and her father let her down. Morris may break her heart by not wanting to marry a merely rich girl, but it is her father who treats her most cruelly. He does everything in his power to end her relationship, never taking a moment to sympathize or try to understand how deeply her feeling go, how torn she is between her new-found feelings of passion and her love and loyalty towards her father. He is insulting about her attributes to anyone who will listen.

What sort of father tells people that no one will ever be in love with his daughter? It is actually her father's callous treatment which sends Catherine on her first steps away from him and towards independence, from any man's telling her how to lead her life. It is so ironic, her father trying to convince her how awful it would be for Catherine to marry a man who didn't love her—she had spent her life up to that point with a man who didn't love her ... There is an amazing confrontation between Leigh and Finney on an alp in Europe, with Catherine's scarf blowing away along with all of her illusions about her father's love for her. When she finally accepts how her father thinks and feels about her, Catherine resolves to do as she pleases and marry Morris.
Unfortunately for Catherine, Morris is not eager to elope. When she realizes that Morris won't be happy without her father's approval and all its accompanying wealth, she is finally able to make a life for herself. Some might interpret that by turning down some other very decent marriage proposals that come her way shows that she is still carrying a torch for Morris. Possibly she has been so badly burned that she shies away from love. But I think that Catherine has chosen to do as she pleases with the money her mother left her. She is no longer dependent on her father, a posthumous jerk, who even tried to control her life beyond the grave by disinheriting her. If she had married Morris or any other man, she would have remained in the very similar subservient role that she played with her father, just with a new master. Dr. Sloper actually did her a back-handed favor, although that was certainly not his intention, by setting her free to make her own way in the world. Catherine is not a person to be pitied, because she realizes her father's brutality as an opportunity and goes forward. Jennifer Jason's Leigh's happiness in her new life, her evident comfort in her own skin, is lovely to see.
When Morris comes to visit her at the end of the film, abetted by her always meddling Aunt Lavinia,

The film adds an additional verbal confrontation:
:
The only person who seems to have devalued Catherine and done her a great injustice was her father. Not for being "right" about Morris, but for thinking his daughter too stupid to understand who Morris truly was and still want him. For using his money as a threat to his daughter and an enticement to her suitor. For trying to control her life and not letting her experience love and the inevitable pain that always accompanies it on her own. As Catherine's other aunt Elizabeth points out to Dr. Sloper, why shouldn't Morris make a good husband? How can he know they won't be happy? Not to mention that the not-so-good doctor had no money when he married Catherine's mother—she was the heiress then.
Life's little tragedies are full of such hypocrisies.
Washington Square, from Google Books
Quotes from imdb, Washington Square, The Heiress and Gentlemen Prefer Blondes
Modernity is an element absent from the novel, which is strictly Victorian—American-style, in its telling of the ill-fated romance of New Yorkers Catherine Sloper and Morris Townsend. The filmmaker Agnieszka Holland has, without greatly altering the original novel's text, allowed her heroine to become a nascent feminist by the story's conclusion. The film is a more faithful rendition than the B&W movie The Heiress, which starred Olivia de Haviland and Montgomery Clift that I caught on late-night t.v. many years ago. The Heiress, based on a stage play version of Washington Square, is also a great film. The two versions are different enough to be enjoyed differently. The Heiress
Catherine Sloper: He's grown greedier over the years. Before he only wanted my money; now he wants my love as well. Well, he came to the wrong house—and he came twice. I shall see that he does not come a third time.
The [playwrights were] asked to make Morris less of a villain than he was in their play and the original novel in deference to the studio's desire to capitalize on Montgomery Clift's reputation as a romantic leading man.—Wikipedia
Olivia de Havilland and Montgomery Clift, from TCM
The essence of the plot—and be warned, I'm pretty much giving it all away here—is that a young woman, heiress to her father's substantial fortune, is pursued by a very handsome young man who has no money of his own. Her father suspects that he is a gold digger and tries to prevent the match, threatening to disinherit his daughter. The young man eventually breaks it off, presumably because the girl, although still rich, will not be filthy rich. Years later, after the father has died, he comes to reconcile with her, but she sends him packing. Depending on how you read the scene, in book and both films, you can interpret Morris's intentions towards Catherine as purely mercenary, or maybe not always. The story is basically an actor's paradise, as it is full of opportunities to play both repressed and exuberant emotions.
In Washington Square
The film has some nice visual touches. The Sloper's house is beautiful—full of polished surfaces and gleaming objects—but it's just an address, with no soul, no love inside. Catherine's love of music, her desire to perform but accompanied by her horrible stage fright—hint at suppressed passion yearning for an opportunity, an outlet. She is inexpertly watched and taught during the day by her aunt and companion, Lavinia Penniman, played brilliantly by Maggie Smith. Ignored by her father and other relatives she is just aching for someone to teach her a bit about life. Enter Morris Townsend.
Both women fall almost immediately in love with Morris, played by Ben Chaplin, with tousled hair and sensual mouth. It's easy to see why Catherine literally goes weak in the knees in his presence, before, during and after he kisses her. The poor girl never had a chance. Ah, but men can be such a disappointment sometimes. Both Morris and her father let her down. Morris may break her heart by not wanting to marry a merely rich girl, but it is her father who treats her most cruelly. He does everything in his power to end her relationship, never taking a moment to sympathize or try to understand how deeply her feeling go, how torn she is between her new-found feelings of passion and her love and loyalty towards her father. He is insulting about her attributes to anyone who will listen.
What sort of father tells people that no one will ever be in love with his daughter? It is actually her father's callous treatment which sends Catherine on her first steps away from him and towards independence, from any man's telling her how to lead her life. It is so ironic, her father trying to convince her how awful it would be for Catherine to marry a man who didn't love her—she had spent her life up to that point with a man who didn't love her ... There is an amazing confrontation between Leigh and Finney on an alp in Europe, with Catherine's scarf blowing away along with all of her illusions about her father's love for her. When she finally accepts how her father thinks and feels about her, Catherine resolves to do as she pleases and marry Morris.
Jennifer Jason Leigh and Albert Finney, from cinema.de
Unfortunately for Catherine, Morris is not eager to elope. When she realizes that Morris won't be happy without her father's approval and all its accompanying wealth, she is finally able to make a life for herself. Some might interpret that by turning down some other very decent marriage proposals that come her way shows that she is still carrying a torch for Morris. Possibly she has been so badly burned that she shies away from love. But I think that Catherine has chosen to do as she pleases with the money her mother left her. She is no longer dependent on her father, a posthumous jerk, who even tried to control her life beyond the grave by disinheriting her. If she had married Morris or any other man, she would have remained in the very similar subservient role that she played with her father, just with a new master. Dr. Sloper actually did her a back-handed favor, although that was certainly not his intention, by setting her free to make her own way in the world. Catherine is not a person to be pitied, because she realizes her father's brutality as an opportunity and goes forward. Jennifer Jason's Leigh's happiness in her new life, her evident comfort in her own skin, is lovely to see.
When Morris comes to visit her at the end of the film, abetted by her always meddling Aunt Lavinia,
The film adds an additional verbal confrontation:
Catherine Sloper: Say it!It was impossible for me, hearing Morris's words to not see his point. I also couldn't help but think of another film's penultimate bit of dialogue spoken by Marilyn Monroe's Lorelei Lee, from one of my favorite movies, Gentlemen Prefer Blondes
Morris Townsend: Say what? That I wanted you with your money? Is that so immoral? Would you want me without my attributes? You have money, I have ... I have "this." It was a fair exchange.
Lorelei Lee: Don't you know that a man being rich is like a girl being pretty? You wouldn't marry a girl just because she's pretty, but my goodness, doesn't it help?You could almost look at Gentlemen Prefer Blondes as Washington Square from the other side, from gold digger Morris's angle:
Esmond Sr.: Have you got the nerve to tell me you don't want to marry my son for his money?It is abundantly clear at the end of Washington Square that Catherine is not just content (as in the book), but happy with her life. Whether Morris or Aunt Lavinia will ever understand how that could be possible we shall never know. But it's also impossible not to wonder what would have happened if Catherine had gone ahead and married Morris. Was Morris really "wronging" her in any way? She experienced romance and passion with him. She knew what she brought to the table as much as what she wanted from Morris. Marriage, then and now, after all is first and foremost a contract.
Lorelei Lee: It's true.
Esmond Sr.: Then what do you want to marry him for?
Lorelei Lee: I want to marry him for YOUR money.
The only person who seems to have devalued Catherine and done her a great injustice was her father. Not for being "right" about Morris, but for thinking his daughter too stupid to understand who Morris truly was and still want him. For using his money as a threat to his daughter and an enticement to her suitor. For trying to control her life and not letting her experience love and the inevitable pain that always accompanies it on her own. As Catherine's other aunt Elizabeth points out to Dr. Sloper, why shouldn't Morris make a good husband? How can he know they won't be happy? Not to mention that the not-so-good doctor had no money when he married Catherine's mother—she was the heiress then.
Life's little tragedies are full of such hypocrisies.
Washington Square, from Google Books
Quotes from imdb, Washington Square, The Heiress and Gentlemen Prefer Blondes
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