The Innocents – An Excellent Gothic, Psychological Ghost Story

 

Review by Steve D. Stones

This stylishly crafted, brilliant supernatural ghost story is based on the 1898 Henry James novella – The Turn of The Screw. Made at Shepperton Studios in England, The Innocents (1961) was directed and produced by Jack Clayton. Clayton manages to create a creepy atmosphere throughout the film while contrasting it with beautiful locations, stark black and white photography and oblique camera angles. The film gives an excellent perspective of life at the end of the 19^th century during the Victorian era.

A bachelor uncle, played by Michael Redgrave, wants to hire Miss Giddens (Deborah Kerr) as a governess to take care of his orphaned young nephew Miles (Martin Stephens) and niece Flora (Pamela Franklin) at his countryside estate at Bly Manor in England. When hired, Giddens is asked to never contact the uncle ever again with regard to the children. She is to take care of the children on her own, regardless of what problems she might encounter with them. Giddens accepts the job without question.

When arriving by carriage at Bly Manor, Giddens hears a voice crying out for Flora. As she is greeted by Flora in the garden, Flora tells Giddens that she did not hear any voice calling out for her. Flora shows Giddens her pet turtle Rupert and later informs her that Miles is to return home soon, although he was sent far away for a term of schooling. Giddens is puzzled by the thought of Miles returning home when his term of school will not end for a few months.

Giddens receives a forwarded letter from the children's uncle that was sent to him from Miles' school. The letter informs Giddens that Miles has been expelled from school because he has become a bad influence to other children at the school. When Giddens and Flora greet Miles at the train station on the day of his arrival, this is when things become really strange at Bly Manor. Miles refuses to answer any questions Giddens asks him about his schooling and why he was expelled.

While tending the garden one day, Giddens sees a tall shadowy figure standing at the top of the mansion tower. She is unsure of what she saw, so she climbs the stairs to the top of the tower to look for the man. The man is nowhere to be found on the tower, but Miles is there tending to a flock of pigeons. Miles denies seeing any man on the tower when Giddens asks him about the man. Giddens insists that he must have seen the man.

Giddens later finds an old photo in the mansion attic in a cracked frame of the man who appears to be the person she saw on the tower. She plays hide and seek with the children and takes her turn in hiding behind curtains in the dining room. Behind the curtains, she sees the man in the photo approach her on the other side of the window glass. This is one of many creepy sequences in the film that gives the viewer goosebumps. The expression on actress Deborah Kerr's face as she sees the man in the glass will send chills up your spine. Giddens describes the man to the housekeeper Mrs. Grose (Megs Jenkins). Grose says the man is Peter Quint (Peter Wyngarde) who died in an accident at Bly Manor. Miles found him just before he died. Apparently, the two were very close friends.

At a lake near Bly Manor, Flora hums a nursery rhyme while Giddens sees a strange, pale female figure dressed in dark clothing standing on the other side of the lake. This is another creepy sequence in the film that sends chills up the spine of the viewer. Flora and Grose claim to not have seen the figure. Grose mentions to Giddens that the figure may have been Mary Jessel (Clytie Jessop) – the former governess, who drowned herself in the lake soon after Quint's death. Quint and Jessel were a couple, although Grose mentions that they had a violent relationship.

Throughout the film, the viewer is not certain if Giddens' encounters with the ghosts of Quint and Jessel are real, or perhaps a delusion of her emotionally unstable mind. This is one of many effective and compelling aspects of the film. As the film progresses, the viewer begins to understand that the children Miles and Flora may be hiding a dark secret. We do not know whether to believe the children when they say they cannot see the ghosts of Quint and Jessel, but it becomes clear towards the end of the film that the children know of their presence. Are the children possessed by the ghosts of Quint and Jessel? This is the question the viewer asks as the film progresses.

The Innocents was selected by The Guardian as one of the 25 best horror films in cinema. Those of us who are big fans of The Innocents certainly agree with The Guardian's selection. Director Jack Clayton was displeased with screenwriter William Archibald's perspective that the paranormal events in The Turn of the Screw were legitimate, so he asked American writer Truman Capote to rework the script for The Innocents to suggest other alternatives to the plot.

Many horror film fans often compare and contrast The Innocents with director Robert Wise's 1963 psychological horror film – The Haunting, which is also an excellent film. Both films are greatly respected by film critics and fans of horror films and ghost stories. Both make for a great Halloween double feature. Happy viewing and Happy Halloween.

Up with traditional horror cinema and down with torture porn

This column by Doug Gibson was originally published in the Aug. 1, 2007 Standard-Examiner. It includes a plug for Ed Wood's 1955 wonderfully creaky mad scientist seeks revenge shocker, "Bride of the Monster," starring Bela Lugosi, in his final substantive role. It also starred Tor Johnson, a Wood regular. Ed co-wrote, produced and directed "Bride." It was sneaked, incredibly, with Deborah Kerr's "The End of the Affair!" (At left, Tor Johnson menaces Loretta King in "Bride.")


Dump the 'torture porn' and enjoy an old 'chiller'
by Doug Gibson

Scary cinema is fad-based. We had the creature-features of 60 and 70 years ago ("Frankenstein," "Dracula," "The Wolf Man"), then the atomic, science fiction thrillers ("The Thing," "The Day the Earth Stood Still," "Invasion of the Body Snatchers"). Alfred Hitchcock was a genre himself in the 1960s and early '70s with "Psycho," "The Birds" and "Frenzy."

Gore films were the fad as I grew up. It started with George A. Romero's "Night of the Living Dead," gained momentum with Tobe Hooper's "Texas Chainsaw Massacre" and sort of peaked with Romero's "Dawn of the Dead," a clever satire of consumerism.

When I was a teen, John Carpenter's very scary, and slyly amusing, "Halloween" kicked off the "slasher film" fad. "Nightmare on Elm Street" kept that going, and the dreadful "Friday the 13th" started a string of even worse summer camp slasher movies — anyone remember "Sleepaway Camp" or "The Dorm that Dripped Blood?" Unfortunately, I do.

I stopped watching new horror films in the early 1990s. The movies stopped being original to me, although — hate to say this, maybe I just got tired of blood and guts. Today, if I want to see a scary movie, I choose a spooky ghost story, such as "The Others" or "The Sixth Sense" or "Haunted," a low-budget 1995 chiller.

Regarding today's fad — torture porn, such as "Saw" and "Hostel": Not only do I avoid that junk, I'm already planning strategies so my children will spurn it. In my 40s now, I find myself enjoying old, forgotten films, tiny-budget cheapies from the '30s, '40s, '50s and '60s. I saw these titles in the 1970s' TV Guide, listed after midnight on Los Angeles' several independent TV stations.

A few I got to watch; most I missed. But I never forgot them: "The Ape Man," "Bowery at Midnight," "Scared to Death," "Murder By Television," "Plan 9 From Outer Space," "Carnival of Souls," "The Man with Nine Lives," "King of the Zombies." The studios that made these films — Republic, Monogram, Producers Releasing Corporation, Golden Gate Pictures, Lasky-Monka — they're long gone.

The films have ceased their ubiquitous presence on late-night TV, except rare dates with Turner Classic Movies and UEN's local Sci-Fi Friday movies. But you can buy them all on DVD now — some for a buck.

Still, it's sort of sad. As I explain to my skeptical wife, there is a sense of community watching one of these old movies on TV. We're an audience — unseen and far apart — but nevertheless, fans sharing a great film. You don't get that feeling when you watch a film on disc or tape.

For what it's worth, a few recommendations — by decade — of these old chillers. Are they scary? Most, frankly, no. But they are original, with ambitious plots that go as far as a small budget allows.

The 1930s "White Zombie" — This 1932 film stars Bela Lugosi as "Murder Legendre," an evil sorcerer who helps a rich, selfish young man lure a young couple to an island. The selfish man loves the woman, but his plan to win her backfires when the woman is turned into a zombie by Legendre. The film's chills still hold up, particularly the scene of zombies toiling in a sugar mill and the atmospheric castle against a cliff.

The 1940s "Strangler of the Swamp" — Made in 1948, this atmospheric thriller involves a man, hanged for a murder he didn't commit, who returns as a ghost and assumes the role of ferryman at the swamp. Instead of ferrying passengers, he strangles locals in revenge. Finally, a young woman (Rosemary LaPlanche) prepares to offer herself as a sacrifice to get the ghost to leave. The strangler (Charles Middleton) was "Emperor Ming" in the old "Flash Gordon" serials.
The 1950s "Bride of the Monster" — This 1955 film is probably the best Ed Wood directed. Sure, that's not saying much, but an emaciated, drug-addicted Bela Lugosi is still good as embittered, exiled mad scientist Eric Vornoff, who "vill perfect ... a race of atomic supermen vich vill conquer the vorld!" Wood staple Tor Johnson, a 400-pound wrestler, is also in the movie. The low budget includes a photo enlarger as an atomic energizer and a rubber octopus as the monster of the marsh.

The 1960s "Spider Baby: Or the Maddest Story Ever Told" — This comedy/horror is creepy. It stars a very old Lon Chaney Jr. as the caretaker for an insane family. They suffer from a syndrome that causes them to degenerate into children, then babies, then prehuman savages. Relatives come to the house to institutionalize the family. It proves to be a long, horrific night. "Spider Baby" was filmed in 1964 but not released until 1968. Chaney Jr., who could barely talk due to his advanced alcoholism, actually sings the title song.

Gibson is the Standard-Examiner's assistant editorial page editor. He can be reached at dgibson@standard.net.