Una mujer atrapada

"Lady In A Cage" was far ahead of its time. Compared to the rest of the lurid shockers produced in the early 1960s featuring aging Hollywood stars (including de Havilland's other 1964 appearance in "Hush...Hush, Sweet Charlotte") this film, along with "What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?" transcended the genre. But while "Baby Jane" had a lot to say about the price of fame, "Lady In A Cage" rightly predicted the impending chaos of a rapidly changing society.

Nothing about the basic premise (a middle-aged woman trapped in her house is terrorized by vagrants and thugs) suggests a deep sociological study. What elevates the ensuing events are the sharply observed details: the neighborhood in transition, the alienated masses isolated by endless traffic, the hoodlums' utter lack of conscience, and most of all, de Havilland's expert performance as the lone representative of the civilized world. Her undoing serves as a cautionary tale for a society on the brink. de Havilland makes this otherwise unsavory film exceedingly watchable. As her secrets are uncovered, she finds herself culpable as well. Everyone is caught in the inexorable downward spiral.

Despite the heavy themes, the film is highly accessible, even fun, if you take a jaundiced view. Not quite as campy as "Baby Jane" perhaps, but on some level, just as iconic. It's a film that stands up well to repeated viewings. Great graphic title sequence reminiscent of Saul Bass, compelling modern score by Paul Glass, sharp- focus black and white photography. Overall, fine work by everyone involved.

The presence of big-name Hollywood stars does not guise the fact that this is one of the most flagrant mainstream movies of the 1960s. Surprisingly professional treatment is applied to the very sordid thrills at hand, most notably in the leads' performances which range from entirely believable to wonderfully unrestrained. Exceptional, also, is the film's score which erupts occasionally into a semi-experimental, wild beat-jazz type of noise(particularly effective in punctuating the cool opening credits, an interesting Saul Bass-inspired merging of film and frozen shots with linear animation). I can only imagine how some viewers must have reacted to this at the time it was released...a grimy urban nightmare with implied taboo sex, doped-up punks, and some highly disconcerting graphic violence and cruelty for the time.

Many of the most cherished leading ladies of Old Hollywood's glory days turned up in very lurid lo-budge vehicles during the 60s, and LIAC would be exemplary of that trend for its inclusion of DeHavilland and Sothern. Both actresses are in top-form here, and their professionalism veils somewhat the meretricious nature of the material(DeHavilland an urbane, mollycoddling mother sidelined by an injury who becomes trapped between floors in her home elevator, and Sothern a wearied but soft-hearted cyprian/burglar taking sheepish advantage of DeHavilland's perdition). Making a memorably heady debut is James Caan(channeling Brando), in his joyously immoderate portrayal of a sociopathic and frighteningly cunning young criminal who strikes terror into the heart of helpless DeHavilland. As he gradually comes to understand this woman's patrician, maternal nature, a very personal and pitiable hostility ignites within him. She is the embodiment of all the love and nurture he's been denied throughout his tragic life, and this becomes his chance to settle the score.

Classic must-see stuff for fans of singular 1960s B films within a vague realm which might include WHO KILLED TEDDY BEAR, WHAT EVER HAPPENED TO BABY JANE, THE NAKED KISS, and BUNNY LAKE IS MISSING.

8/10

Excellent drama concerning 3 psychotic hooligans, a drunk, a hustler, and a fence and his gang all vying for a house full of booty. The terrified home owner is trapped and must try to survive the onslaught as well as keep her sanity. Highly emotional presentation with great acting by the 3 young thugs, particularly Caan's bit as the insane pack leader. A must see.

Olivia de Havilland looks a little uncomfortable in this shocker, a debut feature from a director who had previously worked in TV suspense shows (including 'The Untouchables', also criticised for its violence). Not only does she have to perform for most of the film from a lift cage, but has to contend with a purple script, and participate in scenes of violence and degradation entirely alien to her screen persona to date.

This is a film angry and ugly in equal measure. Jet planes fly overhead unconcernedly as Mrs Hilyard is tormented, just as cars have already driven past blind to the dead dog laying outside her house. A young black girl runs her skates up the injured legs of a fallen drunk. Women are either helpless (Hilyard), nympho druggies (Elaine) or faded whores (Sade). Men are drunks (Brady), mummy's boys (Malcom) or worse. It is a world full of indifference to the plight of others, of strangers who are casually cruel, of heat, claustrophobia and malice. Mrs Hilyard herself does not deserve her ordeal, but her snobbery (and self satisfied addiction to appalling verse, principally of her own composition) and expressed distate for the "offal of the welfare state" is hardly attractive. Clearly Grauman intends her predicament to be an allegory both of her personal and social isolation as Hilyard's experience occurs amidst an ominous backdrop of current events (at one point she thinks the bomb has dropped). Now and again the world intrudes through a broadcast or passing plane which places the action in a larger context. This of course is lost on Mrs Hilyard. She is just as much out of touch with with society at large as with her son's emotions. Ultimately her captivity by the Randall gang is merely a physical realisation of what, morally, has long been the case. There's a shot which emphasises this: the masked Randall, Elaine and Essie stare fixedly at Mrs Hilyard over the banisters. The camera pans over from their silent and still faces to the victim's, then over to the window through which the sun appears as a burning globe. Their presence it seems is a permanent, and as harshly pervasive as elements of nature.

This was Caan's debut, and his is quite a presence, stalking panther-like, around the looted home. His sadism and shallow greed, and complete lack of redeeming features, make the greatest impact in a film which is full of such gestures. When burping his contempt for his captive, Caan expresses in a few uncouth noises ("I *am* an animal" he proudly confesses at one point) more than much of the other speechifying put together. The ironic equivalent of Hilyard's poetry, his grunts sum him up as neatly as Mrs Hilyard's affected and dated poeticism does her.

Paul Glass' score is a standout and makes for a stunning opening titles sequence. Its discordance and violence reflecting exactly the film's aggressive, alienated tone - one which, as has been noted by other viewers, anticipates that of 'Clockwork Orange' a few years later. Interestingly during the titles the director's credit appears on a conditioning unit, as if he intends his work to let some fresh air in on the foulness he will uncover. Whether or not he succeeds is up to the viewer to decide, but it doesn't make for an easy ride, and one banned in Finland and Australia. Interestingly his next film was the much more restrained and conservative '633 Squadron' until after a couple more obscure films he retreated back to TV.

Saw this film on TV as a kid for the first time ( The 4:30 Movie on Channel 7 for you New Yorkers old enough to remember that) and it definately startled me and I never forgot it.

The basic tale is about this rich old woman (Olivia DeHavilland)who gets stuck in her elevator which resembles a bird cage in the middle of her living room. A power failure is responsible for her predicament. Three thugs (which includes James Caan as lead thug !) take advantage of the situation and terrorize the crap out this helpless woman (or is she helpless????????).

In my opinion, this film still packs a helluva wallop today despite its age. It has its brutality at points both physically and psychologically. The ending is very violent and still leaves me stunned (my hair is standing up as I write this just thinking about it again). There is one line uttered by James Caan in this movie which had to be considered so offensive back then (about the old lady's son), I still consider it pretty low yet strangely classic as part of the film.

As of this writing, this film comes on AMC once in a blue moon. Catch it if you can. A commendable effort for a 1964 film that i think successfully conveyed that innocent times in America have been forever lost.

Check out the bit part by none other than the bowlegged Scatman Crothers !!!!!!