Yield to the Night

France made "nous sommes tous des assassins " (André Cayatte, 1951) The US made "I want to live" (Robert Wise ,1958) The UK made "yield to the night " (the ridiculous alternate title "blonde sinner" should be forgotten )

The three movies were candid indictment against death penalty ; Diana Dors, cast against type, compares favourably with Susan Hayward in the American movie. The luminous blond sex symbol in the flashbacks becomes a broken woman , with a premature aged face in jail: a stunning metamorphosis .

These flashbacks are kept to the minimum ,but well introduced into the story ; most of the time is given over to a convict who got the capital punishment in her cell in which she's never left alone (for fear she might take her own life?)and where they never turn off the light (hence the deeply moving title ). Lots of voice over make sense ; the waiting is the hardest time ,when the prison governor can any hour now bring you your pardon or your hanging ("I can recognize her steps ".In France, condemned men would never know which day they would be guillotined and in the small hours,they were listening closely by the door the steps , all this is shown in Cayatte's movie which was the first attempt in the world to rebel against the horrible death ceremony .

What's the point of healing your ankle , catching a cold or learning to play chess when your days are numbered? The wardens are compassionate ,but except for one of them who's just lost her mom , they are not able to relate to such a horrible fate .What's the point of eating ? of having a good night sleep? What's the point of anything?All is pathetic, the only real thing is that door , behind which....

It's not Jack Lee Thompson's usual style ,and I was skeptic about his treatment of an intimate subject ;but I 've got to make amends ;He brilliantly succeeds :the very last scene, notably ,is a model of simplicity and restrained emotion.

Based on a true story ;a must,as the two other movies I mention are.

Yield to the Night finds the character of Mary Price Hilton shoot her boyfriend's lover and then spending her time in prison awaiting her execution by hanging. Her story is told in flashback during this stay.

On the 7th day God created Diana Dors. From her TV appearances on The Two Ronnies (playing the head of a female army who wish to take over and make all men subservient) through to her appearance in the Adam and the Ants video for Prince Charming and Ms Dors was a regular part of my childhood.

I then discovered the TV series of Queenie's Castle from the 70's (filmed here in Leeds) which fully exuded Dors' abilities as a great actress.

Yield to the Night was the only worthwhile foray into film for Diana with subsequent vehicles being a complete waste of her talents. This film is amazing. The flashback sequences which show how a sultry goddess could be driven to murder are fully rounded, believable and achingly painful. As are the sequences in which she is in captivity. Check out the internal monologues we're privileged to partake in and how she is far from a blonde bimbo. These observations about her plight and her fate are reminiscent of Travis Bickle's musings in Taxi Driver.

A strong case is made for the brutality of capital punishment in a 'civilised' society and how wrong it is. Thankfully since the film's release and now this has been rectified. You will think of this film when someone comments 'They should bring back hanging' in response to a news story.

Diana Dors in her first dramatic role, and last before her unsuccessful venture into Hollywood, sees her trade in her glamorous image for a more realistic and down to earth performance as a woman who finds herself on death row after committing a crime of passion. The film, based on a John Henry novel, has obvious similarities to the real life drama of Ruth Ellis, who murdered her ex-lover on a busy London street and become the last British woman to be hung a year before this film was made.

Dors had become one of the more famous starlets to emerge in Britain's post-war attempt at a Hollywood-like star system. Her familiarity with British audiences no doubt ensured sympathy for her character, which played partly on her bad-girl image. However, this was more than a mere star vehicle, and it saw her transform herself from a star to a serious actress. The American distributors seemed to miss the point somewhat, titling the film on its release there, 'Blonde Sinner'.

The film obviously draws upon the controversial issue of capital punishment. There is no doubt that, despite us witnessing her murder in cold blood, our sympathies are meant to lie with Dors' character. This is of course partly due to her star persona but also because of the way in which the film is directed. Rarely do we see the face of her victim who we learn nothing of apart from his cold attitude towards her ex-lover, Michael Craig, whom Dors has shown nothing but compassion for. Her callous attitude towards his tragic New Years eve suicide is exemplary of this, when she shrugs him off as someone who had just been a nuisance to her.

However, the film is commendable in that manages to avoid mere melodrama. We don't just get a one-sided view of events. We are left in no doubt that the Dors character is herself an adultress who committed a murder with malice and forethought. The issue the film achieves in getting across is the detrimental effect the capital punishment system has on those who are around it. Not only do we see the effect it has on Dors' family but also we get an insight of the wardesses who are with her for her final days. In particular we recognise the discipline shown by Yvonne Mitchell's character, Macfarlane, a young wardess who is drawn with compassion and sympathy towards Dors, and yet must contain her emotions especially during the last agonisingly pensive hours. There is also a feeling that we should not be overly sympathetic towards Dors, as she is rebuked by an elderly Christian lady that visits her for being too self-pitying and for showing little or no remorse. This theme is of course drawn on in more detail in Tim Robbins' recent death row drama 'Dead Man Walking'.

J. Lee Thompson's taut direction shows signs of his later atmospheric Stateside successes such as 'Cape Fear'. The expressionistic filming techniques used to add to the claustrophobic tension of the prison cell scenes are particularly effective. Yvonne Mitchell provides a strong supporting role as the young wardess who befriends Dors. However, it is Dors herself who should be applauded most of all for her emotional and naturalistic performance as the woman awaiting her fate. Some of the film's themes may seem rather cliched to a modern audience but I would imagine it hit a nerve when the issue was at the forethought of the British consciousness.

The name Diana Dors conjours up a sex symbol, Britain's answer to Marilyn Monroe. She was so much more than that, but because of her image, her best performances were ignored by critics.

Based on the Ruth Ellis case, Dors plays Mary Hilton. In the first scene, we see her, during the daytime with people around, deliberately empty a gun into the body of of a woman. We next see her in a death row prison - deglamorized, guarded by matrons, in a room with a door without a handle, leading to where she will be executed.

According to what I've read, there had been a series of controversial hangings by the time this film was made. This film has the character hoping for a reprieve from the governor.

Mary looks back on the events leading up to the murder. Married, she falls in love with someone else, a pianist at a club, Jim (Michael Craig). She becomes obsessed with, to the point where she leaves her husband.

So entrenched in her love for Jim and devotion to him, she fails to see that Jim isn't as in love as she is. In fact, he becomes obsessed with a wealthy woman, Lucy. It's a destructive, up and down relationship, as is Mary's with Jim, but she lets him come crying to her when Louise rejects him.

Jim finally is driven to commit suicide and leaves a letter for Lucy. When Mary realizes the letter isn't for her, she snaps.

While in prison, Mary has a daily routine. The matrons take her for a walk daily, and it's obvious that they become fond of her, one giving her a cloth to cover her eyes while she sleeps, as the light is always on. She has to eat with a spoon, and when she bathes, a matron cuts her nails. She has a few visitors, none of whom she really wants to see - her ex-husband, her mother, and her brother.

Mary also meets with the chaplain, and finally, a lovely woman (Athene Seyler), sort of a volunteer prison visitor, who brings Mary flowers, gives her some comfort, and tries to get Mary to accept what she's done and what is about to happen.

The matrons give wonderful performances - Joan Miller, Marianne Stone, Olga Lindo, who plays the warden, and Yvonne Mitchell, all of whom have developed a relationship with Mary and dread the last day as much as she does.

Dors gives a subtly powerful performance, soft, sympathetic, quietly anxious in prison, and desperate in her scenes with Jim. We see her gorgeous and glamorous and in prison garb, her hair darkened with roots showing.

This isn't the first time Dors played a role where she is in prison. She also wound up there in "The Unholy Wife." She demonstrated then, as in this film, that she was a good dramatic actress. The film's alternate title is "The Blond Sinner," and the posters don't really suggest the story.

Well directed by J. Lee Thompson, Yield to the Night is an excellent film with a performance that deserved much more attention.

True "Blonde bombshells" of a starring nature come along only once or twice in a decade, and the number from, say, 1930 to 1960 is not all that many: Jean Harlow, Lana Turner, Marilyn Monroe, Diana Dors, Jayne Mansfield, Kim Novak, and that about does it. Of these, Harlow died too young and as an actress was memorable mainly in comedy, Turner turned into a very good actress as the years passed, Monroe was greatly loved but her true acting talent beyond her natural charisma was not really all that great, and Novak was passable. Mansfield was Mansfield. Diana Dors, however, despite her 'blonde bombshell' reputation and being probably the least beautiful of that group (one could hardly call her even very pretty) was a very legitimate actress, out of RADA, and gave excellent acting performances right from the start of her film career. Unfortunately, nobody seemed to notice at the time, which may have been her own fault for letting that reputation get out of hand.

This is the very best I have seen her, and her outing here as the doomed murderess is about as good a lead female performance as any to be seen in English films of the 1950s. It is truly amazing that both her performance and this film are not better known. Maybe the Hollywood-made I WANT TO LIVE of two years later ended up stealing this film's thunder, as they both cover the imprisonment and pending death of the protagonist. But only a portion of Susan Hayward's performance takes place inside prison walls, whereas in this film, outside the opening and some flashbacks, the entire story takes place in less than 20 days in a holding cell, perhaps 20 x 25 feet in size, and goes outside it only when the prisoner is allowed out for exercise in a high-walled yard. That there are always two warders taking shifts in the holding cell with Dors, tending to her every need but also imposing a strict regimen upon her, somehow adds to the total claustrophobia of the film, and it is irrepressibly morbid from beginning to end. But it is also terrific! Although the major burden falls on Dors, every performance in the film save one is exceptional, that one being Michael Craig's as her suicidal boyfriend. Craig is a good actor, but he was the wrong choice here, as he simply never really seems like the kind of guy who could be brought to suicide by unrequited love. Lawrence Harvey might have been perfect for it. But the great Yvonne Mitchell, as the youngest warder, is superb. It seems as though, from beginning to end, she has but one expression, which never changes, on her face, yet we see the feelings she is hiding underneath at every moment, and ultimately learn that those feelings are not confined to only the prisoner's situation.

Some reviews have mentioned this film as an indictment of capital punishment, but I don't see it that way, and only once in the entire film is anything said in that direction: One of the warders says that we mustn't forget the person Dors murdered, and another one answers that "...another death will not bring her back". Unlike in the Hayward film, we know right from the beginning that Dors is guilty of this crime, and although to the very end she never repents the murder, we still feel sympathy for her (I felt a lot more for her than for the Hayward character), surely a reaction engendered by the excellent screenplay, Dors' superb performance, and J. Lee Thompson's inventive direction.

Given the budget and the acting talent on view here, I do not see how this film could have possibly been any better, and it should prove a major discovery to anyone now seeing it for the first time.