Classic Films in Focus: NIGHT HAS A THOUSAND EYES (1948)

I hadn't heard of Night Has a Thousand Eyes (1948) before The Criterion Channel included it in a trio of noir films directed by John Farrow, the other two being The Big Clock (1948) and Alias Nick Beal (1949). The most obscure of the three, Night Has a Thousand Eyes is still a fascinating picture, thanks to a supernatural story originally written by Cornell Woolrich and a great performance by Edward G. Robinson as the tragic protagonist. Like the other Farrow pictures in the set, this one starts at a pivotal moment and then backtracks to the events that created the crisis of the opening scene, which gives the viewer a kind of precognition, too. While Night Has a Thousand Eyes benefits from the performances of Robinson, Russell, William Demarest, and Virginia Bruce, a weak showing from John Lund as the heroine's love interest undermines the appeal of the young couple Robinson tries to save from disaster.

Robinson stars as former traveling psychic John Triton, who unhappily discovers that his ability to see the future is real. After his visions drive oil heiress Jean Courtland (Gail Russell) to attempt suicide, Triton recounts his history with Jean's parents, Whitney (Jerome Cowan) and Jenny (Virginia Bruce), who were once partners in Triton's act. Jean's boyfriend, Elliott (John Lund), remains skeptical of Triton's story, but as the older man's predictions repeatedly come true everyone around Jean has to take the threats to her safety seriously.

Edward G. Robinson is the main draw here, and he delivers a compelling depiction of a man forever on the outside of humanity thanks to his unwanted ability. Triton can't control his visions, and most of the time he can't stop the future he sees from happening, either. He gives up the love of his life hoping to save her from the early death he foresees, but it doesn't work, and Triton spends the next two decades secretly watching his old friend Whitney Courtland raise the daughter who should have been Triton's child. When Whitney and then Jean face mortal danger, Triton rouses himself for a final attempt to change someone's fate. Robinson, adept at playing almost every kind of character, invests this one with tremendous pathos. Triton has the air of a martyr without making a fuss about it, his aging face lined with grief and resignation. He never seems crazed or deluded, even though the people around him mostly discount his claims until it's too late. The viewer, seeing all of the evidence in Triton's favor from the beginning, has no reason to doubt him, and we wait in suspense for the rest of the characters to figure out that Triton's powers are the real thing.

Most of the supporting cast is solid, with Gail Russell especially engaging as a young woman grappling with her own sense of doom. Her scenes with Robinson are tender and moving because Jean believes Triton and he desperately wants to save her, even though he isn't sure he can. Jerome Cowan and Virginia Bruce both have some good moments in the backstory section, while William Demarest and John Alexander stand out among the skeptics in the third act. Unfortunately, there's no feeling of true devotion between Jean and Elliott because John Lund is so bland and unsympathetic as the latter. Because the audience and Jean both believe Triton, Elliott's persistent skepticism comes across as boorish, and his attempts to reassure Jean seem more like paternalistic chauvinism at best. Triton risks everything to save Jean, and his concern for her feels deeply genuine, but Elliott doesn't seem to feel much of anything. It's a shame Triton can't save Jean from marrying a wooden bore, but his psychic powers don't extend to bad casting decisions.

For more from director John Farrow, see Where Danger Lives (1950), His Kind of Woman (1951), and Hondo (1953). Edward G. Robinson rose to fame for his gangsters in movies like Little Caesar (1931), but his other noir pictures include Double Indemnity (1944), The Woman in the Window (1944), Scarlet Street (1945), and The Stranger (1946),as well as the iconic Key Largo (1948). Catch Gail Russell facing more supernatural peril in The Uninvited (1944) or try Angel and the Badman (1947) or Moonrise (1948). If you enjoy movies based on the work of Cornell Woolrich, look for The Leopard Man (1943), Phantom Lady (1944), Black Angel (1946), and The Window (1949).

Classic Films in Focus: MOONTIDE (1942)

Although its name doesn't telegraph anything about the plot, Moontide (1942) does give the viewer an accurate impression of its mood, which is dreamy but dark, yielding a seductive fantasy with noir's sharp edge, or perhaps a noir film with romance's soft center. France's Jean Gabin and rising star Ida Lupino take top billing as two bits of lonely flotsam washing up together into love and peril, and under the direction of Archie Mayo they drift across the screen into each other's arms, even as the treachery of an unlikely enemy threatens them both. Moontide is an unusual picture, not, perhaps, essential viewing for noir or romance fans, but certain to appeal to those who like their genres mixed with a side of European sensibility. Unexpected performances by Thomas Mitchell and Claude Rains have their own charms, while Gabin and Lupino have plenty to offer in their chemistry onscreen.

Gabin stars as Bobo, a French longshoreman who can't remember what happened after a long night of drinking near the California docks. His parasitic friend, Tiny (Thomas Mitchell), suggests that Bobo might have killed a man during his drunken stupor, which Tiny sees as reason for the pair to leave town quickly. Troubled by the idea but not convinced of his own guilt, Bobo instead takes a job running a remote bait barge, where he saves the desperate young Anna (Lupino) from suicide. The two fall in love and decide to marry, but Tiny proves dangerously jealous of Anna and her ability to affect Bobo's plans.

Moontide struggled with many problems during production, not least of which was the departure of Fritz Lang as the original director, but none of them diminish the film as it appears onscreen. Gabin has a great face for this kind of picture, broad and strong, but open and innocent in its own way; like everything else about the movie, he occupies the space where noir and romance meet. We believe that he might have strangled a man to death in a boozy rage, but we also believe that he might not. After all, he isn't sure himself. Lupino, having electrified the screen with her courtroom crackup in They Drive by Night (1940), here takes a turn as a fragile waif, a girl broken by life when we first meet her but strong enough to survive incredible suffering if only someone like Bobo will give her a reason to keep going. Her appearance in the film's poster makes her look like a juke joint floozy, but the dress is merely an odd gift of Bobo's; Anna is a kind, simple soul who yearns for a home and a place of belonging.

The fairy tale fog and isolation of the bait shack enhance our sense of this tidal fantasy as a story that exists outside of reality, and the supporting characters also add to that impression. Thomas Mitchell, a character actor best remembered for more genial or paternal roles, exorcises some inner demons as the trollish Tiny; he's rotten through and through, even if Bobo is too generous to admit it. The usually debonair Claude Rains becomes downright scruffy as Nutsy, a night watchman who befriends Bobo and Anna and encourages their romance. The names of the characters underscore their detachment from a realistic world of details and hard data; we don't know their real names, or where they came from, and tedious facts like those hardly matter. Other characters, including Jerome Cowan's lovelorn doctor and Henry, the bait barge's owner (Chester Gan), drift in and out of the plot as the moment demands. The third act sees a storm break over the lovers and their happiness; both Nutsy and Tiny have their roles to play as the climax hits like a typhoon, violent and terrible. A true noir would have ended differently, and a pure romance would never have gone to such a dark place at all, but the ending works within the context of this genre mingling.

Moontide picked up an Oscar nomination for Charles G. Clarke's dreamy cinematography but lost in a crowd of ten nominees to Mrs. Miniver (1942). For more from Archie Mayo, see The Petrified Forest (1936), It's Love I'm After (1937), and the delightfully wacky Charley's Aunt (1941). Jean Gabin, who spent only the war years in Hollywood, was a huge star in his native France, where he made films like Pepe Le Moko (1937), Grand Illusion (1937), and Port of Shadows (1938). Don't miss Ida Lupino in They Drive by Night (1940), High Sierra (1941) and On Dangerous Ground (1951). Thomas Mitchell won the Oscar for Best Supporting Actor with Stagecoach (1939), but most people remember him best for Gone with the Wind (1939) and It's a Wonderful Life (1946). For more of Claude Rains' most unusual roles, try The Invisible Man (1933), The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938), and Phantom of the Opera (1943).