Classic Movie Review: The Night of the Hunter (1955)

The Night of the Hunter (1955)

Directed by: Charles Laughton.

Written by: James Agee based on the novel by Davis Grubb.

Starring: Robert Mitchum (Harry Powell), Shelley Winters (Willa Harper), Lillian Gish (Rachel Cooper), James Gleason (Uncle Birdie Steptoe), Evelyn Varden (Icey Spoon), Peter Graves (Ben Harper), Don Beddoe (Walt Spoon), Billy Chapin (John Harper), Sally Jane Bruce (Pearl Harper), Gloria Castillo (Ruby).

 

One of the great What If’s in cinema history is what if Charles Laughton had directed more than one film? The one film he did make – The Night of the Hunter – is one of the greatest of all films – a Southern Gothic horror film that plays like a nightmare, that somehow brings to mind everything from German Expressionism films to Orson Welles to Terrence Malick – and delivers it all in a strange package that plays like a dream, and all in only 92 minutes. The film is American to its core – which is odd, since Laughton was a Brit. But sometimes, Europeans have a clearer eyed view of America than Americans do – think of films like Wim Wenders Paris Texas or Andrea Arnold’s American Honey. They get America in a way that Americans don’t – at least not until they see these outsider’s visions of it. The Night of the Hunter is a masterpiece in every way – and sadly, the only film Laughton ever directed.

 

The film stars Robert Mitchum in his greatest performance – really one of the great performances of all time – as Harry Powell, a false prophet. He is a preacher, with Love and Hate tattooed on his hands, and talks a good game about God, the Bible and Holiness – which is all just an act, of course – a ruse to allow him to close to people, who would never expect a man of God to be this evil. His M.O. is to seduce and abandoned wealthy widows – making off with their money, and leaving their bodies behind. Early in the film he is arrested – not for anything major – and while in jail, he hears his cellmate talk about the robbery and murder he committed – he got away with $10,000 and no one knows where it is. No one, except his kids, of course. Once out of jail, Powell puts on his Preacher act to seduce the newly widowed Willa (Shelley Winters) – whose husband was that man, who has now been hanged. He then terrorizes her two small child – Jon and Pearl (Billy Chapin and Sally Jane Bruce) – who eventually have to travel up river in a makeshift boat, with him on their tail.

 

The film is a horror film – it can be truly scary in its second half, as the children travel upriver by night, sometimes hearing Powell behind them – or seeing his shadow off in the distance. No one has used shadows as effectively as Laughton does here, who makes them ominous, foreboding and bold. And yet, the film is also beautiful – sometimes even in its most horrific images, like the shot beneath the water of Willa’s final resting place. Laughton has constructed a nightmare here – but a beautiful one. And, of course, an American one.

 

I’m not sure any film has ever quite captured America’s obsession with religion quite like this film has – how American have embraced it so fully, and yet are so full of hypocrisy on it – the “Holiest” among them often the biggest sinners. Powell is a uniquely American character – the violent psychopath, hiding behind the cloak of religion. Yet, that makes the film sound like an even bleaker portrait of America than it really is. Because if Powell is uniquely American, then so too is Rachel Cooper (the great Lillian Gish) – an older woman who takes in lost children, and gives them a home. Her religion isn’t phony like Powell’s is – she feels it down to her bones. Laughton wanted Gish precisely because she reached all the way to the silent era – and she had that stature that would make you sit up a recognize her authority. There are a lot of silent movie influences on The Night of the Hunter – German Expressionism is certainly part of that – you can see Murnau in many of the compositions – but so too is the likes of D.W. Griffith – and American mythmaking.

 

The Night of the Hunter was a famous commercial and critical failure when it came out in 1955 – one of the reasons perhaps Laughton never directed again. The film itself though has become the stuff of legend – for decades the story went that James Agee’s script was an indecipherable mess, until someone actually found a copy of his screenplay, and you realize that everything he wrote is right up there on screen. And Laughton himself said that he just preferred directing in the theater, not on film – because in the theater, he could continue to tinker with everything, whereas on film, once it was shot, that was it. But what a loss it is to cinema history that Laughton only ever directed this one film. Few films in history are as well directed as this one – have such a mastery of tone, such a sustained dreamlike feeling to it. Or had such mastery of light and shadow – or sound. And few films are as well acted – Mitchum has done this type of role before and after, but I’m not sure he’s ever been this charming, or this scary before. Winters is an actress who usually goes big and bold, but here is quiet and reserved. And Gish commands your attention whenever she is there. So while it is certainly sad that we never got another Charles Laughton film – we should probably be grateful we got this one – one of the greatest of all films.