Cinema has given the world some very memorable
villains, many of whom usually show up around Halloween armed with sharp
instruments and scary masks. The villain in The Night of the Hunter (1955)
has no scary mask but should still stand alongside Michael Myers and Freddy
Krueger. This particular monster is a misogynist, a killer of women, and a manipulator.
Depending on the filmmakers this sort of material could be just a cheap slasher
movie. Instead, this is one of the most visually striking and powerful thrillers
ever made.
Despite its quality, The Night of the Hunter is
difficult to find. As far as I know it is not on any streaming service and it is
not often shown on TV. Recently it did play on the Turner Classic Movies
channel, which sadly I watched on my IPad. I say sadly because even though this
movie is in black and white and has zero explosions, it should be seen on the
big screen. Many scenes are so artistic they could be paintings, and the use of
shadows and lightings is some of the best ever done. I have said this often lately:
I really want to go back to seeing movies in cinemas. (Please get vaccinated.)
The story begins with a warning about wolves in sheep’s’
clothing. Harry Powell (Robert Mitchum) is one such wolf and his disguise is
that of a righteous preacher. During the Great Depression in the southern
United States, he is sent to jail for car theft. His cell mate Ben Harper (Peter
Graves) talks in his sleep, which lets the reverend know this is a bank robber
who gave $10,000 to his children before being arrested and sentenced to death. Ben
knows evil when he sees it and stops himself from sharing any more details, but
that is not enough to stop the wily Powell.
After his release from prison Powell ingratiates
himself in the Ben’s community, conning them into believing he worked at the
prison instead of being one of its residents. Mitchum is very charismatic as
Powell, especially when he does a routine of explaining why he has the words Love and Hate tattooed on his fingers. He makes it sound like a biblical allegory,
but it is obvious to the audience which hand he favours. Through more lies and
manipulations, Howell marries Ben’s widow Willa (Shelley Winters) and murders
her with a switchblade when she uncovers the truth.
This is when the movie becomes a dark fairy tale. With
both parents gone, Powell sets his eyes on the children John (Billy Chapin) and
much younger sister Pearl (Sally Jane Bruce) who know where the money is
hidden. Hunting them through the house, Howell sounds like a mix between the
Big Bad Wolf and the witch from Hansel and Gretel: “Chilll…dren?” The chase
between Powell and the children has many masterful moments of tension, such as when the
children flee by canoe and Powell is seconds away from catching them. While hiding in a barn
they think they are finally safe, only to hear their hunter singing a religious
hymn in the distance. John wonders, does this man ever sleep?
I was not surprised to learn Harry Powell is loosely
based on a real killer, Harry Powers, who murdered women for their money. This
is a very human monster who remains relevant to this day. Before murdering Willa,
you could say he was gaslighting her by telling her lies about her husband and
turning her against her children. Because of his status as a reverend, Powell
also made her ashamed of her sexuality by convincing her women should only have
sex for procreation and serve their husbands.
It is therefore extremely satisfying that Powell meets
his match in a woman. Rachel Cooper (Lillian Gish) is a formidable woman who
takes in stray children without the help of any man. She is religious, but for
her the Bible is a book to inspire others to be better. Also, she has a loaded
shotgun in her house. When Powell comes looking for John and Pearl, Rachel is
patient enough to spend the night in her rocking chair with her weapon in her
lap, like a live-action version of the granny from Looney Tunes.
There is a sad story about the making of The Night
of the Hunter. It was directed by Charles Laughton, who started out as an
actor, moved on to direct plays, and then got his big-screen directorial debut
with this movie. Unfortunately, his debut was not well-received by either
audiences or critics and he never directed a movie again. Laughton died in
1962, never knowing his movie would be appreciated by new generations of film
lovers. Let this be a lesson to any artists out there. Do not judge your art by
first reactions. Let time be the judge.
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