VIDEO REVIEW: Man Hunt

VIDEO REVIEW: I Walked With A Zombie

REVIEW: Portrait of Jennie

Portrait of Jennie
Director: William Dieterle
Year 1948

Portrait of Jennie is a haunting and beautifully constructed film that showcases an extraordinary story of love crossing space and time. Set during the Depression in New York City, the film follows the down and out starving artist Eben Adams as he struggles with finding buyers for his paintings, while at the same time desperately searching for his inspirational muse. The look of the city at this time period, along with the hazy black and white imagery provided by director William Dieterle, allows for a perfect set up for this fantasy laced love story. Portrait of Jennie really is a classic gem of cinema's yesteryear, that transcends the span of over six decades, yet still feels fresh and relevant to this day.

Matthews is alright, but Spinney is a real asshole.

The entire plot of Portrait of Jennie is a tightly packed mystery that really has to be experienced first hand to get the full impact of what is truly happening on screen. At risk of ruining the initial impact of the story, I'll just give you a short set up of what the film is all about. Eben Adams, played by the outstanding Joseph Cotten in one of his greatest roles ever, has a strange meeting with a young girl named Jennie Appleton in Central Park that surprisingly turns his world upside down. This impactful meeting brings on a revelation within Eben and suddenly he unexpectedly begins to flourish as an artist gaining reputation among his newfound and highly distinguished art dealer client. The most uncanny thing about this strange situation, is that the young girl that skyrocketed his inspirational muse seems to age in leaps and bounds each time Eben sees her. Who is Jennie and why does she seem displaced in time, always talking about the future? The set up is brilliant and it will force you to plunge in head first, in order to solve the mystery.

Don't go into the light Caroline! Stay out of the light!

Joseph Cotten does a tremendous job of bringing to life a man whose been down and out on his luck, but has found a new lease on life and a resurgence in spirit. As the film goes along and the fantastical elements of the story begin to unfold, Eben finds himself in a wholly unbelievable predicament, one that tests his mind, body, and soul. Cotten handles the up and down roller coaster of emotion that this demanding role entails and he pulls it off with an air of ease. The madness and obsession that later takes ahold of him in the film as he desperately tries to unravel the mysterious plot that has been laid out before him, is just exhilarating to see play out on the screen. You really feel for Eben and you want him to ultimately find happiness in any way, shape, or form. Cotten provides the acting chops to pull it off and I expect nothing less from such an experienced actor of the silver screen.

Bigfoot takes a stroll through Central Park.

One of the most important roles in this film, and in my opinion the most demanding, is the role of Jennie Appleton. What is needed for this role is a wide range of emotions toppled with the ability to convey a woman as she ages from being an innocent young child all the way to maturity. Jennifer Jones does this with exceptional clarity, making you believe each separate stage that her characters life is in. She pulls this feat off so well, that you'd be hard pressed to realize that Jennifer's actual age during the filming of this movie was twenty nine. How she was able to transform herself into an innocent school girl, and do it believably, says wonders about her acting ability. It really is haunting to see her progress throughout the film, and a great deal of the movie's dreamlike quality is due to Jennifer's tremendous portrayal of her character's rapid aging. If a less then competent actor was in her shoes, we as an audience wouldn't be swept up in the story as much as we are by the tremendous efforts put on display by this screen legend.

Earth to Jennie. Man, what a space case.

The astounding cast aside, there is another element to this film that makes it such a wonderful phenomenon to behold. That element would be William Dieterle, the director. He does an amazing job of pushing the story along, but at the same time he keeps us in each moment with long haunting pauses that seem to thrive on the importance of it all. In these moments, he captures a sort of magic that resonates between the two main actors, Jones and Cotten. He focuses on the chemistry of the two and makes that the main focal point of the story.

By emphasizing on this strong connection between actors, he in the process enunciates the larger then life love both Jennie and Eben have for each other in the story. Through this act we are given an overwhelming hand in believing this fantastical tale that could bridge kindred souls and connect them from different times, both changing their lives and the people around them. Dieterle deserves a large portion of the credit, because it takes a real genius to know what your films strong points are and then focus in on them, letting it shape and craft the movie into something heartfelt and memorable. His subtle and keen eye brings this film to life.

The loneliest man in the world.

There's a great mixture of a handful of genres throughout this film and the blending of all of these elements mix quite flawlessly. With the Portrait of Jennie, we are given a love story that melds traditional elements of mystery, horror, fantasy, and drama, and then creates something entirely unlike any of those separate genres. One could say that Portrait of Jennie is in a genre of its own, because when you analyze each segment of the categories that I mentioned above, you can't pinpoint a single one within the story. Each combines so delicately into the fabric of the narrative, that they begin to play off each other, morphing into a melting pot of ideas. The end result is something that defies logic, making it impossible to pin down. The ambiguity of it all is really what is most appealing about the film. It creates such a believable world out of such unbelievable material, that it boggles the mind when trying to rope in the individual elements of this complicated recipe of a film. Portrait of Jennie is definitely a unique beast.

What's wrong Jennie? Do you have to go potty?

To top it all off, the story has so many highs and lows within its intricate subtext, that you really feel like you've been riding an emotional roller coaster by the end. The vividness of these temperamental sentiments is excruciatingly real, torn right from the pages of the human subconscious. We strive over the loss of love that Eben feels as he desperately tries to find the captivating women that entered his life in such an abrupt manner. We swoon over the reunion of these star crossed lovers as again and again they manage to find each other against such insurmountable odds. This mental tug of war packs a significant punch, lifting up the film from being just another run of the mill love story, and catapults it up into the minds of the audience as an experience that we are sharing with the two main characters. By the end you feel as if you've been on a life changing journey and that's not something you can say that occurs often with your typical contemporary film.

What? You thought you weren't gonna get to see the portrait?

Drawing on these impactful components, Dieterle plays with the notion of stylistic images and familiar visual cues and begins to alter our perception of the two. Much like his combination of genre narratives, he toys with the iconography of what we've come to expect from each classification of film. Like combining the haunting imagery of a dusk filled winter landscape juxtaposed against Jennie's delicate and beautiful form as it walks off into the sunset. Dieterle also uses an abundance of Film Noir aesthetics, casting a very shadow filled palette over the world that he's created. This works well off of his Noir elements that tend to creep up every so often as the story progresses. The despair that is felt in the major portions of this piece, are heavy and overbearing, making it that much more enlightened when a romantic segment comes into light, embracing us and propelling us into what would normally seem like a totally different movie. Instead, the night and day aspects of this film, defy the odds and coexist on a plain unparalleled within the cinema world.

Hold me like you did back on Naboo.

Not satisfied with the amalgam of genres and visual flirtations, Dieterle revels in the notion of bending reality and distorting the audiences perception of what the truth really is. From the very start of the film to the very end of the twisted tale, we are constantly bombarded with things that we are not entirely sure of their validity. Dieterle sets up a dreamscape of sorts, infused with such fantasy like elements and intriguing premises, that the overabundance of it all seems ripe to explode. The foggy landscapes, the desolate city, the mixture of time travel elements and the idea that love can conquer both space and time, lend to the feeling that this could all be happening in one of the most wildest of dreams. The fabrication overload would at first seem to threaten the overall validity of the piece, but surprisingly Dieterle guides it into the realm of the real and infuses it with a step by step comprehensive touch that neither lessens the impact of the story or strips it off its wondrous nature.

Joseph Cotten stumbles onto the set of Japanese Horror flick, Uzumaki.

To top off his surreal creation, Dieterle makes a conscious decision to end the film in a stark departure from its earlier portions, by stripping the film of its black and white stock and injecting it with a nightmarish green hue. This unnatural choice solidifies the theory, in visual terms, that this is all nothing but a dream. Unconventionally we ignore the obvious, now that we as the audience are fully invested with the story, world, and our two main characters. We ignore the dreamlike quality of it all and plunge forward, mimicking the determination and hard willed nature of Eben as we both race towards the closing moments of the film.

This unbridled notion that if you capture an audience and make them believe that what they are seeing is something that they are truly experiencing, is a feat that isn't easily achieved, but one that Dieterle has managed to master within the context of Portrait of Jennie. So confident is he, that he throws such a mind-blowing visual curve ball our way, as in the example of colorizing the finale, that you really have to admire the boldness of the effort. Taking such strikingly abrasive techniques and inspiring visual cues to strengthen the overall feel of this epic story shows just how confident Dieterle was on the overall pull that he had garnered over the course of the film's run time. A truly inspiring move for a truly inspiring film.

Well isn't that as pretty as a picture.

Portrait of Jennie, much like its heroine, is way ahead of its time. Fortunately for the films sake, it was appreciated in its own time and at the same time is still a relevant piece of work that can be loved for generations to come. The film has so much substance to it, that you can feel the weight of all it has to say within its expressive and fleeting moments. Portrait of Jennie only exists over a span of a few moments in reality, but through the same unconventional and otherworldly connection that occurred between its main characters, this amazing story will last within the minds of its audience for a lifetime and dare I say an eternity. This film is highly recommended for anyone who loves the power of cinema and the wonderful stories that it can bring into our lives.

5 out of 5 stars    An Amazing Story of Love Defying Time

REVIEW: I Walked With A Zombie

I Walked With A Zombie
Director: Jacques Tourneur
Year 1943

I Walked With A Zombie is a classically enthralling venture into how to create a beautifully poetic horror film. Directed by Jacques Tourneur and produced by Val Lewton, the two provide a perfect combination of artistic professionalism that brings to life a story of life, death, love, and voodoo to the silver screen. The film in my mind goes down in history as a gem that was far ahead of its time, striking a visual chord that wasn't yet seen in a horror film and wouldn't be again until seventeen years later when Mario Bava would bring into the world his greatest work, Black Sunday. Tourneur's I Walked With A Zombie, is a zombie film that begs to be seen.

Betsy waits anxiously for her chance to get inside Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory.

The story for I Walked With A Zombie is a simple one, but it is executed to perfection. A young Canadian nurse named Betsy, played by a stunningly graceful Frances Dee, accepts a job in the West Indies to look after a plantation owners wife. Betsy's new patient seems to be suffering from some sort of hypnotic trance or mental paralysis that has come about after she was struck by a sudden fever. Now secluded within the hauntingly empty plantation grounds, Betsy must care for this strange inflicted woman while at the same time coming to grips with the local voodoo that inhabits the islands culture. The set up is there from the very first ten minutes and from that point forward, Tourneur and company rely on the quality of the visuals and the sense of dread to move the narration along into haunting territories. 

Oh Betsy, you little pervert.

I'm ashamed to say that I'm a little behind on my Tourneur filmography, seeing that I've only seen a couple of his previous works before viewing I Walked With A Zombie. One of his best films is the exceptional satanic romp, Night of the Demon, where I was given a first hand look at the kind of imagery and atmosphere that Tourneur produced during his time as a director. Needless to say, my anticipation for viewing his voodoo piece was peeked and happily I wasn't disappointed when sitting down to see what else he had to offer. His use of strong contrasts and overlaying lines of shadow, injects a fierce tonal ambience that sets you right among the cast of characters as they trudge knee deep through the rhythmic tribal drum filled jungles.

 Shocking!!!

Tourneur's visual cues are stemmed from his past work where he dabbled in a slew of genres from Crime Dramas to Film Noirs, and everything in between. Another similar film that sits nicely next to I Walked With A Zombie, is his film Cat People, which he made right before lensing his voodoo outing. The same striking imagery can be seen in both Cat People and I Walked With A Zombie, both showing that horror films can be both brooding and beautiful.

His introduction with Cat People to the horror genre enabled him to garner a better grasp on the elements that drive the core of those kinds of films, allowing for Tourneur to produce some of the finest composed shots ever seen in the business. His technique of using his locations to their fullest is masterfully presented in the scenes where the character of Betsy paces in her room at night, surrounded by the wooden slat filled windows that encompass her Caribbean style abode. Playing with the lighting and shadows, Tourneur magically transposes these normally cumbersome shadow casted shapes and sharp lines, and overlays them right across the main actress as she peers off into the night. The scene is a quite and contemplative moment, but one that projects a sense of dread, foreshadowing things to come.

 You really think your something with that fancy new jacket.

The film also has some surprising moments within the story line that are rather unconventional to the horror genre. Betsy's character begins to have feelings for her employer, yet you're not going to get a traditional love story from this film. Instead, the filmmakers present a tragic romance that is never able to be fully realized because of the extenuating circumstances that our characters are in. Paul Holland her employer, played by a jaded Tom Conway, loves his sick wife and remains loyal to her, so Betsy is forced to do the only thing that she deems right and that's cure Holland's wife of her mental paralysis in any way, shape, or form that she can. It's an interesting turn of events and one that caught me off guard a little.

I specifically told you to bring me my morning cup cakes in bed. Do you see a bed here?

It is through this unconventional narrative mechanism that Betsy is thrust into a world that she does not understand. Her love for Holland and the unrelenting instinct to help him save his wife is the main driving force that flings Betsy into braving the wilds of the West Indies harsh environment in search of the voodoo tribe that could possibly cure Mrs. Holland. It's an interesting and bitter sweet flip on the old love story yarn and one that makes I Walked With A Zombie that much more interesting from the rest of the pack. I respect Tourneur for choosing this route and not going the cliched and narrow path followed by so many other films. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy a good love story now and then, but to see a film shake up the formula a bit is a breath of fresh air.

I think I saw one of those damn Samsquanches!

Now, I know what you're saying. Where the hell are the zombies? Well I haven't forgotten and neither have Tourneur and company. Even though there is actually only one zombie in this film, the director has gone to great lengths to make you feel the overwhelming presence of the voodoo zombie horde. He does this through the simple technique of placing some ambient moments throughout the film. Early in the film we are presented with the first knowledgeable bits that the island has a steep history of dealings with voodoo, by the unsettling rhythmic drums that can be heard far off in the untamed jungles surrounding the plantation. The first occurrence of hearing these strange chants comes when Betsy has her first meal with the plantation owner and his brother. It's a great moment that makes the audience feel that not everything is as it should be in this tropical setting and that danger is soon to come calling for our innocent Betsy.

Nothing like hanging out in the middle of nowhere to pass the time.

The atmosphere is perfect for this film and its heavy presence makes up for the lack of large moving packs of zombies. The one zombie that they do have in this film though is just creepy as all hell, with his long lanky figure and glazed over bulging eyes, the man was made to give people the willies. Darby Jones plays Carrefour the silent monster in all of its seven feet of glory, as it guards the pathway through the sugar cane fields. One of the most impressive moments of the film is when we are presented with his tall imposing figure as he looks down upon Betsy among the darkened wind rustled fields. The scene is almost poetic as it unfolds and the general feel is that of watching a poem laid out upon the screen. It's delicately paced and gracefully edited, almost as if you're watching some sort of passive nightmare where Betsy cautiously traverses across an unknown dreamscape. These moments are plenty and Tourneur shows that he really has an eye for occasions like this.

 Could you be.... the most saddest zombie in the world?

Not only does Darby Jones have the physical presence that is needed for a role like this, but he also brings a sadness to his role as Carrefour. The filmmakers and Jones' own carefully plodded out movements, really do an impressive job in giving the audience an almost sympathetic notion to his plight. He is not under his own control and is used simply as a tool in other peoples schemes. His blank face and obedient nature only adds to the great feeling of despair for his character. I enjoyed this unorthodox view compared to what we have now become familiar with in zombie lore and one could imagine that this was the precursor to George Romero's take on Bub in his 1985 film Day of the Dead.

 Peek a boo you fucks you.

The music in this film is also a great contributor in bringing about the feel of the world and making it wholly believable and tangible.  Roy Webb provides the simplistic soundtrack that really goes for the minimalist approach to the musical compositions. The understated, but not under-appreciated soundtrack,  works wonders with the quite sounds of the wind as it gently pushes its way through the empty expanses of the sugar cane fields. The accompaniment between the soundscapes and Webb's score is breathtaking in only going as far and in-depth as it needs to be without taking anything away from the already stupendous visuals that Tourneur provides. The soundtrack is basically as elegant as you can get.

Even zombies can enjoy a good ocean view.

I Walked With A Zombie is a true work of art that lifts the film up from its humble horror elements and brings a bit of class to the proceedings. The film relies on its tremendous depth and heavy atmosphere to capture a stirring story about a women in a strange land who is lost without love, yet at the same time lost because she has found a piece of that love, though unobtainable. The voodoo portions of this film and the intriguing island setting makes the visuals of this film extremely enjoyable to view. Tourneur proves that horror doesn't necessarily have to be gritty and messy. It can also be poetic and thought provoking, like lyrics from a long lost poem. The film captures the aspirations of the directors vision and makes for one hell of a great and original horror film. I highly recommend this film to anyone who enjoys a classically made horror film and for those who have a special place in their heart for zombies of all kinds.

5 out of 5 stars      A Classic and Beautiful Zombie Film