The book is sinister. The stage play is scary.
The film is devastating.
Pauline Moran's brief appearances as The Woman fill the whole film with a sense of doom and terror. She's seen in the background, almost out-of-focus, a few times. The leering, grimacing expression, white face and red eyes, on the rare occasions they fill the screen, will make your heart stop with terror.
No gore and splatter. No blood, swearing and screaming. This is an old-fashioned ghost story. It has a perfect, atmospheric representation of an isolated community, haunted by something so awful that the locals cannot bear to mention it. The innocent newcomer landed in the middle of this terrorised community quickly gains the audience's sympathy but ... wait ... is that the ghost? No. It's only a shadow. ... Hush ... is that the ghost? No. It's only a creaking floorboard. Here she comes. She's coming to get you. You have no escape.
She is the very image of evil, and she wants to make others as unhappy as she herself was. She can pick her moment. She can pick her place. One you are in her sights, you will not get away. The Woman In Black does not rush to tell you the whole story. It doesn't spoil the shocks by revealing everything at once. Little hints to The Woman's origins sneak out one by one, and taint the entire film with dread.
Several other reviews mention The Woman's biggest appearance, and I can only repeat the other comments. One of the most frightening, shocking, unexpected, sudden moments that telly has ever produced. I found myself pushing further and further back into my chair, trying to get away from the television screen.
Simple, old fashioned story telling, with a great story and great performances. Unforgettable.
