It’s funny, how one thing leads to another. Excellent film with solid directing from Lothar Mendes and photography from Merritt Gerstad, relegated mostly to one room but with the fluid camera movements, low key lighting and compositions, combined with a great cast which reminds one of later Hitchcock films. I would go as far to aver that this film surpasses Hitchcock’s British films of this period!
Charles Laughton is William Marble who loses his marbles when the opportunity to get out of debt presents itself in the guise of a forgotten nephew with a billfold full of cash. Laughton is a force of nature, a big man playing a small role, a meager bank teller whose debt isn’t incurred by extravagance or luxury overspending, but by Depression. Laughton possesses this character like a tormented spirit, retaining the humanity while committing an inhumane act. The suffering and guilt are not only etched into his face but in every bodily mannerism. Mendes allows Laughton to act in medium shot with long takes, so we see the shadows pass over his face like storm clouds slowly building towards tempest. This is one of the best performances I’ve seen in the Pre-Code era. Dorothy Peterson as his loyal wife Annie and a waifish Maureen O’Sullivan as his daughter Winnie are also excellent, though their parts are often eclipsed by Laughton. I love the Barrymores, but Laughton would be the one actor I’d fear to share a scene with: you better be on your game! Fortunately, both actresses are up to the task.
I’ll note some highlights. When Laughton poisons his nephew, the camera moves to close-up on him. But instead of focusing only upon the shocked expression on Laughton’s face, the camera pans down and keeps his shaking hands in frame, as the whiskey spills onto his sleeve and his hands shake uncontrollably. And he doesn’t even drop the glass! That Mendes allows Laughton to act with his hands and body makes the scene even more dreadful. And the death itself is elided and out of frame; Mendes doesn’t even include the sound of the body dropping to the floor. Another nice visual happens when Annie suspects her husband has gained the funds (which he invested to create his immediate wealth) through subterfuge, the camera does a quick zoom close-up of the bottle of cyanide in the cabinet. This reflects her husband’s immediate fear, not hers: she thinks he embezzled the money! Since lenses didn’t exist yet for rack-zoom, this sped-up shot must have been dramatic and unsettling to contemporary audiences. Also, watching Laughton be consumed and seduced by a local French woman is splendid, as he reveals both suffering and lust at the same time. And the way that Mends edits and focuses upon the mound in the garden like an infected tooth, a constant sore that won’t heal for William is excellent. We even get to see Laughton body slam a kid who plays too near the secret grave.
Finally, the end of the third act depicts Laughton’s maniacal laughter, from dark humor to dread, as he is accused of his wife’s death (for which he is innocent) yet accepts his fate, his deferred payment now due. The scene lasts for a minute, as the camera pulls back and the lights are slowly dimmed until we only see his face highlighted, until it all fades to black. That would have been the best ending, but we get a momentary tearful coda as Winnie visits her father in prison just before his execution, and she believes his innocence in her mother’s death. But she never learns that Justice is sometimes poetic.
Final Grade: (A)