A Woman's Vengeance

Henry Maurier (Boyer) is an arrogant wealthy Englishman married to Emily who is both sickly and shrewish. Doris (Blyth) is his much younger mistress. The Maurier's also have a woman friend named Janet Spence (Tandy) who has always loved Maurier. When Emily is poisoned, suspicion falls on Henry and there is a great deal of circumstantial evidence against him. The script, by Aldous Huxley, is extremely literate and the movie is a pleasure to watch. Courtroom fans will also enjoy the capably executed inquest and trial scenes.

This film noir gem spins the tale of romance, unrequited love and revenge that conspire to frustrate a spinster in her pursuit of a man. The romance involves the man's dalliances with an attractive girl and the unrequited love is the bitter fruit of the spinster's quest to capture the man for herself. The revenge plays out its part in due course as the triangle emerges with malevolent undercurrents taking shape. The cast is excellent, especially Jessica Tandy and Sir Cedric Hardwicke, with Charles Boyer caught in the middle by the eager, determined females. Ann Blyth marries her suave suitor and sets in motion the cold fury of the spurned woman who can only watch as her dreams of happiness are dashed. The black and white camera work has a brooding quality and gives the film a classic film noir look.

"A Woman's Vengeance" is unusual in that it was written by Aldous Huxley, they author of the brilliant "Brave New World" and the son of the famous evolutionist, Thomas Henry Huxley. I had no idea he wrote this sort of story...a murder mystery.

When the story begins, Henry (Charles Boyer) and his wife, Emily, are having a fight. It seems that Emily is a very histrionic and demanding woman...the sort that would be nearly impossible to love. On the other hand, Henry isn't exactly an angel...he's got a VERY young girlfriend (Ann Blythe) on the side. He also has a family friend, Janet (Jessica Tandy), who loves him.

One day after yet another fight brought on by Emily, Henry goes out to spend the day with his mistress. During this time period, Emily dies of a heart attack...thus freeing Henry to marry his girlfriend. But once he does, Janet and, especially, the family's maid (Mildred Natwick) begin to wonder if Emily died a natural death. Soon, there is an exhumation and it's determined that Emily was poisoned!! Did Henry do it? After all, he clearly had the most to gain and any man married to Emily would be likely to at least consider poisoning her! Or is there some other answer?

The story is greatly helped by its cast. It's easy to make a good film with the likes of Charles Boyer, Jessica Tandy, Mildred Natwick, John Williams and Cederic Hardwicke in a movie...and it's obvious Universal Pictures put a lot of money into the production.

It's also helped that the story is so clever and offers some interesting twists. I also appreciate that the characters are quite flawed...much like many real people. Overall, well worth seeing and wonderfully well acted.

Rachel Kempson is the bedridden, whining wife of rich Charles Boyer. She complains about everything and everyone, and only Mildred Natwick, as her man-hating nurse, seems to sympathize with her. Boyer does what he can in a weary, dutiful manner, but takes pleasure in flirting with next-door neighbor Jessica Tandy on the subject of modern art. He's also got Ann Blyth as an 18-year-old mistress. Then Kempson dies, Boyer marries his pregnant mistress almost immediately, and Miss Natwick insists on an autopsy. It turns out the dead woman was poisoned, and Boyer is on trial for murder.

I thought the first half of this movie was fabulous, with a cast that played it to the hilt, particularly Mildred Natwick, so vilely self-righteous. The problem for me lay in the second half, because I picked out the murderer as soon as the death scene was described, and Hardwicke's pick-pick-picking at the scabs of the other character's souls, beautifully written by Aldous Huxley, and performed though it was, seemed to me long-winded.

That's the problem when you figure out a mystery well before the end, motive, method and opportunity; you spend the time wondering how everyone in the movie (or book) can be so blind. So I spent my time reworking it as a stage play, wondering about the bare minimum of sets. I made it four.

Aldous Huxley possessed one of the greatest intellects and was one of the most original thinkers of the Twentieth, or indeed, any century. He also made a great deal of money writing screenplays in Hollywood.

His short story of 1922 'The Giaconda Smile' is his most anthologised and so as not to baffle the average cinema-goer the title here has been changed to 'A Woman's Vengeance' which merely serves to give the game away from the outset!

We should be grateful at least that the adaptation has not been assigned to some Hollywood hack but has been done by the author himself although the infernal compromises of film have obliged him to deviate from his original.

The suspected wife poisoner has been transformed from the flawed Anglo-Saxon Hutton to the Gallic Maurier of inveterate charmer Charles Boyer and his naive bit of fluff Doris, played by Ann Blythe, is needless to say no longer a Cockney! The character of Janet Spence, described by Huxley as resembling Agrippina 'or perhaps George Robey', is played by Jessica Tandy. All do what they do very well but it is the performance of the superlative Miss Tandy that lingers longest. She depicts frustrated passion and sexual repression as strongly as would have been permitted at the time and is absolutely riveting if a little too attractive.

For filmic purposes the character of Doctor Libbard has been fleshed out considerably by Mr. Huxley and is beautifully played by Cedric Hardwicke. His character not only serves as Maurier's conscience but saves him from the gallows, thereby drastically altering the original ending but that's Hollywood for you.

It is capably directed by Zoltan Korda although one senses that he is more suited to the great outdoors. Noirish touches by cinematographer Russell Metty and a suitably dramatic score by the great Miklos Rozsa.

It was Sir Cedric who said: "God felt sorry for actors so he created Hollywood to give them a place in the sun and a swimming pool. The price they had to pay was to surrender their talent." The same would apply to writers it seems!