Classic Films in Focus: SHADOW OF A DOUBT (1943)

Alfred Hitchcock called Shadow of a Doubt (1943) his favorite of his own pictures, and there's certainly a lot to appreciate in this smart, dark thriller about a young woman who suspects that her beloved uncle might not be what he seems. Teresa Wright and Joseph Cotten give riveting performances as the two central characters, both called Charlie, who rightly claim that their relationship goes far beyond the typically avuncular. While much of the really daring subject matter remains in the subtext, Shadow of a Doubt stirs up quite a psychological hornet's nest with its conflicted young heroine and her charming but deadly relative, and for fans of character actors the film also delivers plum performances from Henry Travers and Hume Cronyn.

Wright plays the younger Charlie, who pines for something to shake up her family's boring routine in Santa Rosa, California. Her prayers seem to be answered when her Uncle Charlie (Joseph Cotten) arrives for a rare visit, bearing gifts and smiles for everyone, but especially for Charlie and her mother, Emma (Patricia Collinge). Soon, however, young Charlie learns that her uncle is being pursued by two men who suspect him of committing terrible crimes, and Charlie herself begins to think that Uncle Charlie might actually be the Merry Widow Murderer for whom the police have been searching.

Young Charlie makes for an unusual Hitchcock protagonist if we think of the kinds of characters who take center stage in his most popular thrillers, where James Stewart and Cary Grant play very grown-up men embroiled in mystery and violence. Teresa Wright's heroine is, by contrast, not only female and innocent but also childlike in her initial view of the world and its inhabitants; in a modern remake Charlie might well be played by a fifteen year old, and the chaste romance with Detective Jack Graham (Macdonald Carey) could be dispensed with altogether. Despite her youth and girlish attitudes, Charlie proves to be a resourceful, strong-willed heroine, who has to confront her uncle on her own and then survive the consequences of knowing too much. Only Charlie manages to uncover the truth that eludes the police, and only Charlie can defend herself against her uncle's lethal intentions.When the climactic moment comes, nobody can save young Charlie but herself, and, in the end, she has to carry a burden of knowledge and sorrow that she rightly judges to be too much for her loving family.

In addition to its intriguing young heroine, the movie offers a mesmerizing study in duality. Two suspects elude the police, one in the west and one in the east. Two detectives pursue Uncle Charlie from place to place. Two train trips frame the action; one brings Uncle Charlie to town, and another carries him away. Most importantly, two Charlies stand at the center of the story, linked by blood but separated by it, too. Uncle Charlie is himself another example of duality, with one charming persona for company and a hidden, deadly side that he keeps secret at all costs. The extensive doubling also turns up with young Charlie's father (Henry Travers) and his friend, Herbie (Hume Cronyn), a strange pair of would-be murderers who constantly imagine ways to kill each other. Their macabre fantasies contrast with the real murder attempts taking place in the family's own home, but they never suspect a thing. Only Emma, Charlie's devoted older sister, ponders the significance of the two strange "accidents" that befall young Charlie and almost take her life. A subtler pairing occurs between Uncle Charlie and Detective Graham; both of them want young Charlie's loyalty and love, and it's only after the romance between the two young people flowers that Uncle Charlie turns violent. Does he view Graham as a romantic rival as well as a threat to his freedom? There's an incestuous undercurrent in the relationship between the two Charlies, hinted at and suggested in the ring that he gives her and the fact that he's sleeping in her bed. Think about it hard enough and Shadow of a Doubt more than lives up to its ominous name.

Gordon McDonell's original story for Shadow of a Doubt earned the movie its only Oscar nomination, but Teresa Wright had already won the Academy Award for Best Supporting Actress the previous year, for her performance in Mrs. Miniver (1942). The young actress also picked up nominations for The Little Foxes (1941) and The Pride of the Yankees (1942). Joseph Cotten is probably best remembered today for his performance in Orson Welles' Citizen Kane (1941), but he also stars in Gaslight (1944), Portrait of Jennie (1948), and The Third Man (1949). Shadow of a Doubt marks the screen debut of Hume Cronyn; see more of him in Lifeboat (1944), The Postman Always Rings Twice (1946), and Brute Force (1947). For more Hitchcock heroines, try Sabotage (1936), The Lady Vanishes (1938), and Rebecca (1940).

Classic Films in Focus: PEOPLE WILL TALK (1951)

Cary Grant is best remembered today for a long list of great films, including comedies like Bringing Up Baby (1938) and The Philadelphia Story (1940) and Hitchcock thrillers like Notorious (1946) and North By Northwest (1959). Although not as well-known as those undisputed hits, People Will Talk (1951) is a warm and very funny romantic comedy about the human side of the medical profession. Written and directed by Joseph L. Mankiewicz, the movie stars Grant as a sympathetic doctor who insists on the individual humanity of each of his patients, even though his concern for them often goes far beyond the limits of his professional obligation.

Grant plays Noah Praetorius, a successful physician with a habit of collecting people who need him, from the mysterious Mr. Shunderson (Finlay Currie) to the desperate Deborah Higgins (Jeanne Crain). His popularity and success make him the target of a jealous colleague (Hume Cronyn), who hopes to discredit Praetorius by dredging up the secrets of his previous work, his unconventional methods, and his unusual associates.

The romantic angle depends on Praetorius’ evolving relationship with Deborah, a single young woman who attempts to kill herself when Praetorius tells her that she’s pregnant. The doctor saves her life and lies to her in order to prevent a second attempt, but somewhere along the way he falls in love with her, too. Grant balances the serious and comic aspects of this situation perfectly, and Jeanne Crain gives the troubled heroine a powerful appeal. The idea of a romance building around an unmarried woman’s pregnancy seems surprising, even shocking, for the time, but the movie handles it with delicate sympathy, with the details about Deborah’s dead lover calculated to make a contemporary audience forgive her transgression and deem her worthy of the hero’s unconditional acceptance.

Several especially engaging character actors provide ample support for the romantic leads and help to steer the movie back into comedic territory. Finlay Currie proves a real scene-stealer as the simple-minded Shunderson, whose history turns out to be both pitiful and bizarre. Hume Cronyn is delightfully petty and vindictive as Grant’s chief antagonist, Professor Elwell, and Margaret Hamilton has a great uncredited appearance at the start of the film as a former housekeeper who knows something about the good doctor’s past. Walter Slezak and Sidney Blackmer round out the cast as some of the doctor’s loyal friends, and there’s a wonderful scene in which the three men act like children in their enthusiasm over a toy train set.

Try Holiday (1938), Arsenic and Old Lace (1944), and The Bachelor and the Bobby-Soxer (1947) for more Cary Grant comedies. You’ll find Jeanne Crain in Leave Her to Heaven (1945), A Letter to Three Wives (1949), and Pinky (1949). A four-time Oscar winner, Joseph L. Mankiewicz also directed memorable women’s pictures like Dragonwyck (1946), The Ghost and Mrs. Muir (1947), and All About Eve (1950). Look for the wonderful Scottish actor Finlay Currie in I Know Where I’m Going! (1945), Great Expectations (1946), and Ben-Hur (1959). Finally, catch Hume Cronyn in Lifeboat (1944), The Seventh Cross (1944), and The Postman Always Rings Twice (1946).

An earlier version of this post originally appeared on Examiner.com.

Classic Films in Focus: THE POSTMAN ALWAYS RINGS TWICE (1946)

Adapted from the novel by James M. Cain, The Postman Always Rings Twice (1946) delivers all of the classic noir conventions, with a special emphasis on the ironic workings of fate. Tay Garnett directs this MGM contribution to film noir, which features an iconic performance from Lana Turner as the resident femme fatale, along with John Garfield and Cecil Kellaway as the doomed flies caught in her attractive web. Leon Ames and Hume Cronyn also make memorable appearances as a pair of lawyers who care more about competition than actual justice. Modern critical opinion of Postman goes both ways; David Thomson applauds it, while David N. Meyer derides it, but it's still required viewing for any serious noir fan.

Garfield is drifter Frank Chambers, who takes a "Man Wanted" position at a roadside station because of the owner's seductive wife, Cora (Lana Turner). Frank and Cora begin an affair, but Nick (Cecil Kellaway) seems like an impossible obstacle to their happiness, and they start to imagine their lives without him standing in the way. When Nick announces his plan to sell the station and take Cora away to Canada, the lovers rush into desperate action, but the district attorney (Leon Ames) has his eye on the murderous pair, and their plot becomes far more complicated than they intended.

Each of the three main characters is a loser in his or her own way, but Postman presents them in shades of gray that slowly slip toward black. Kellaway's Nick seems jovial and kindly at first, until we realize how tight-fisted and dictatorial he is, especially where Cora is concerned. When Frank and Cora first think of killing him, we feel bad for the old man, but his abrupt decision to force Cora to Canada to play nurse for his invalid sister goes a long way toward justifying the second attempt. Cora just wants to make something of the diner. She isn't afraid of hard work, and at first she resists Frank's advances. "You won't find anything cheap around here," she tells him. As her spotless white outfits shift to black, however, she reveals a dangerous jealousy and even mental instability. What kind of mother would such a woman have made? We get the feeling that Junior might have grown up to be the Norman Bates of the Twin Oaks establishment, had fate not conveniently stepped in. Frank himself is the first to blame; he only takes the job to chase Cora, and he doesn't let up until it finally dawns on him that he might be in over his head. He does try, at least, to walk out, but by then he has already set the dominoes in motion.

Oddly enough, the most despicable people in the film are the lawyers, played with predatory cunning by Leon Ames and Hume Cronyn. Ames' district attorney pretends to be on the side of justice, but he seems perfectly content to let Frank and Cora commit murder so that he can prosecute them, when he actually has plenty of opportunity to stop the murder from happening in the first place. His moral posturing at the movie's end reeks of irony, given his cavalier bet with the opposition about the earlier trial's outcome and his willingness to make plea deals. Cronyn's Arthur Keats lacks even the veneer of morality; he's a sharper, as crooked as they come, and ready to do everything but commit murder himself to control the verdict in Cora's trial. Cronyn is so gloriously sleazy that he more or less steals the movie every time he shows up, and that's quite a feat when Lana Turner's ample charms are on display.

Audrey Totter, another notable femme fatale, adds an extra touch of irony as the girl Frank runs off with when he gets mad at Cora; he clearly has a thing for dangerous curves. Take note of Fred Flintstone voice actor Alan Reed as the lumbering crook, Kennedy. For more from Tay Garnett, try China Seas (1935), The Cross of Lorraine (1943), and The Valley of Decision (1945). Cain's novel was also adapted in Italy as Ossessione (1943), which makes a provocative double feature with Postman. See John Garfield in They Made Me a Criminal (1939), Tortilla Flat (1942), and Gentleman's Agreement (1947). Lana Turner turns heads in Love Finds Andy Hardy (1938), Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1941), and The Three Musketeers (1948). Don't miss Cecil Kellaway in Harvey (1950) and Hush... Hush, Sweet Charlotte (1964), and be sure to appreciate Hume Cronyn in Lifeboat (1944). Leon Ames is probably best remembered today as the Smith family patriarch in Meet Me in St. Louis (1944), but you'll also find him in Lady in the Lake (1947) and Little Women (1949).

Classic Films in Focus: LIFEBOAT (1944)

Based on a story by John Steinbeck, Alfred Hitchcock's tense wartime thriller, Lifeboat (1944), will induce claustrophobia in some viewers, as the entire film takes place within the confines of a single small boat. The ocean around might be wide, but the space on the boat is small, so small that the handful of survivors packed into it find themselves entirely too close for comfort, especially since one of them belonged to the German U boat that sank the ship on which the others were traveling. As with so many Hitchcock pictures, Lifeboat reveals the director turning the screws on his characters, constantly increasing their tension as he also increases the body count. It's a taut, gripping, psychologically complex film, one that addresses some of the most uncomfortable themes of its era, from ethnic prejudice and racism to class divisions and the brutal impulses of mob justice.  

As the picture opens, we see the detritus of shipwreck floating across the screen, with a corpse inevitably closing the procession of debris. The survivors of the ship are quickly collected, beginning with the lifeboat's first occupant, journalist Constance Porter (Tallulah Bankhead). Joining Connie are members of the ship's crew, including alpha male Kovac (John Hodiak), mild Stanley "Sparks" (Hume Cronyn), injured Gus (William Bendix), and kindly Joe (Canada Lee). A wealthy businessman named Charles Rittenhouse (Henry Hull), a shell-shocked young mother (Heather Angel), and a lovelorn nurse (Mary Anderson) round out the Allied survivors, while the German Willi (Walter Slezak) turns up to make all of them anxious and conflicted about sharing the boat with their enemy.

All of the actors give fine performances, but Tallulah has the best lines, and she dominates the screen throughout the picture. We are set up to see her as the vessel's most interesting occupant from the start, when we find her sitting alone in the lifeboat, surrounded by her possessions, busily photographing the fallout of the disaster as if she herself were not endangered. Everything about her seems incongruous with this setting, from her mink coat and camera to her sparkling diamond bracelet. The other women, plucked from the oil-strewn sea, are bedraggled from the start, but Connie clings to her glamour and sexuality, and she manages to look good even when things seem to be at their worst, hoarding her store of lipstick the way the other characters cherish their water or rations.

I don't know that I like John Hodiak as Bankhead's sparring partner and love interest; he has plenty of prickly machismo, but he seems dangerous, unstable, a powder keg rather than a hero. There's something about his teeth that makes him look like a manticore, ready to eat the rest of the survivors alive if necessary. Hume Cronyn's gentle Sparks is by far the most appealing of the young men, and he is amply repaid for that amiability through a budding romance with Mary Anderson's character, Alice. William Bendix makes a sympathetic Gus, though doom seems to be written on his brow from the beginning, as he is the most nostalgic of the crew, and we all know that characters who look backward too much cannot have a future ahead of them.

All kinds of prejudice get an airing in this film, but the most striking, given the time period, might be that of race. The lone African-American survivor, Joe, is played with grace and dignity by Canada Lee. Apparently, Steinbeck felt that Hitch toned down the original story's engagement of race too much, but Lee's subtle reactions and measured comments eloquently convey the message to those who are willing to receive it. Only Joe will have the moral fortitude to resist the power of the mob when the critical moment arrives, and he is keenly aware that he and the German are connected by their shared status as "Other," even though he finds that connection an uncomfortable qualifier to his own patriotic sensibility. The German himself seems far less conscious of the possibility that he and Joe might be tied together in this way, and his ultimate role as villain undermines much of the sympathy we might otherwise have for him. His treatment of Gus, near the end of the film, merely vindicates our suspicion of him, leaving Joe as the far more complex anchor for the film's treatment of prejudice as a whole.

On a final note, you might wonder how Hitchcock manages his trademark cameo appearance in a film set entirely aboard a small, crowded boat. Be sure and have a good look at the ad on the back of the newspaper that one character holds up to read. He was a clever fellow, that Hitch! For more of Hitchcock’s films from this era, try Suspicion (1941), Shadow of a Doubt (1943), and Notorious (1946). Tallulah Bankhead, far more successful on the stage than in Hollywood, made few memorable films, but you can see her in Tarnished Lady (1931), The Cheat (1931), and A Royal Scandal (1945). Lifeboat was nominated for three Oscars, including a nod for Hitchcock as Best Director. It was one of five times that the director would be nominated for the award and not win.

An earlier version of this review originally appeared on Examiner.com. The author retains all rights to this content.