Psyche 59

Interesting to consider that with the notable exception of Jack Clayton's 'The Pumpkin Eater', the most incisive depictions of middle-class, Anglo-Saxon angst have been filmed by an American. Of course both Joseph Losey and Jack Clayton were blessed to have the genius of Harold Pinter whose main interest lay in what is written between the lines.

Not to be overlooked however is this portrait of neuroses among the well-to-do, adapted by Julian Halévy from a French novel and directed by Stanley Kubrick acolyte Alexander Singer.

Halévy's taut script, Walter Lassally's superlative camerawork, Kenneth V. Jones' dissonant score and a quintet of strong performances make for a stylish, visually textured and sexually charged psychodrama which for its time was audacious.

The central character is blind and it is what she cannot see that is central to the film. She is played by Patricia Neal and even by her standards her nuanced performance is truly exceptional. This courageous artiste was shortly to fight her own personal battles. As her husband the charismatic Curt Juergens is here at the peak of his 'international phase' before he slowly moved down the cast list and began going through the motions. His character has immense charm but a decidedly dark side and his advice to lovelorn Ian Bannen on how to handle a woman will have many females foaming at the mouth and a few no doubt licking their lips. This decade was a particularly good one for Samantha Eggar and here she excels as a minx whose strong sexuality is more of a curse than a blessing. Unexpected levity is supplied by Beatrix Lehmann as a horoscope-reading matriarch.

This fascinating curio is certainly a step up from his earlier 'A cold wind in August', but Mr. Singer's subsequent output was far more 'conventional' and it is probably kinder to pass over in silence his spaghetti western with Lee van Cleef. His talents were later employed on the small screen.

Psyche 59 is directed by Alexander Singer and adapted to screenplay by Julian Zimet from the novel written by Francoise des Ligneris. It stars Patricia Neal, Curd Jurgens, Samantha Eggar, Ian Bannen and Beatrix Lehmann. Music is by Kenneth V. Jones and cinematography by Walter Lassally.

Blind Alison Crawford (Neal) lives with her husband Eric (Jurgens) and finds the equilibrium of life upset when her young sister Robin (Eggar) comes to stay. It seems there are secrets to will out, both with Robin and the matter of how Alison came to be blind.

A strange, almost hypnotic type of movie, Psyche 59 aims to be a Freudian thriller but just misses the mark of being great. The set up is intriguing, the twists risqué and the photography suitably moody. Neal gives a fine performance as the afflicted Alison, both physically and emotionally, Eggar is super sultry and raises the temperatures considerably, while both Bannen and Jurgens are fine considering the former is under written and the latter gets a character arc that's a bit of a stretch. Unfortunately the pay off is hopelessly weak, the whole build up holds the attention, you sense we are heading for great dramatic denouement, but sadly that's not the case and it leaves a disappointing taste in the mouth. 6/10

"Psyche '59" opened at an art theatre in New York City in 1964. Receiving lukewarm reviews, it closed quickly, and was then used as a co-feature in neighborhood theatres. I consider it a near-masterpiece. Starring Patricia Neal, Curt Jurgens, and Samantha Eggar, it is a spellbinding study of a woman suffering from hysterical blindness, her sex addict husband, and her younger sister, who it seems was sexually imposed-upon at a young age, and who is both cruelly nymphomaniacal and masochistic as a result. This film was clearly ahead of its time.

The screenplay by Julian Zimet, from a novel by Francoise des Ligneris, is a finely-nuanced piece of work.

Alexander Singer might be considered a great director of films about women's issues, as well as a great director of actresses. Consider his direction of Lola Albright in "A Cold Wind in August" three years before, and his direction of Lana Turner in "Love Has Many Faces" the year following. The fact that all three of these films were failures is clearly the reason why Singer is not widely known ("Love Has" having failed simply because its critics and audiences could not appreciate its deliberately melodramatic style).

The cinematography in "Psyche '59" is outstanding. One shot, in which the camera manages to look upward towards Samantha Eggar, while she is lying on the sand, took my breath away. Within the context of the scene, this use of strange camera angle was intensely effective, and not at all pretentious. Whether it was Singer's idea, or that of cinematographer Walter Lassally, I guess I'll never know.

The only flaw in "Psyche '59" is that the actress in the role of the grandmother seems too young for the part.

As had so often been the case in the past the best thing about Alexander Singer's "Psyche '59" is Walter Lassally's luminous cinematography. This British drama revolves around Patricia Neal, blinded in an accident but aware that her blindness is psychosomatic and not physical. She's married to Curd Jurgens and has a flightly younger sister, (Samantha Eggar), who comes to stay. There's a fourth character played by Ian Bannen who wanders in and out of their lives.

The movie wasn't a success despite its excellent cast and has virtually disappeared. Singer came to the film fresh from his cult classic "A Cold Wind in August" and perhaps more was expected of him than he delivered. It doesn't really work as a thriller; plot-wise it's something of a one-trick pony and outside of its cast of four there is no-one to latch on to and consequently few red herrings. It might have worked as a tale of sisterly rivalry if it wasn't so banal and what almost amounts to a subplot involving Bannen's character almost proves more interesting.

It's not really a bad film, (though the ending is gob-smackingly awful), just a very strange one and it's easy to see why it flopped. It's the kind of film that might appeal to the so-called intelligensia looking for meanings that aren't really there. See it by all means; just don't expect too much.

Françoise des Ligneris's novel "Psyche '59" becomes a fine dramatic vehicle for the always-sympathetic Patricia Neal, here playing the wife of a wealthy businessman who is suffering from 'hysterical blindness' after a mysterious fall; when sister Samantha Eggar comes to live with her after a failed attempt at marriage, years-old tensions (both resentful and sexual) between Eggar and brother-in-law Curt Jurgens rise to the surface. As photographed in glossy black-and-white by the esteemed Walter Lassally, the picture is a shiny, classy piece of goods, yet director Alexander Singer takes an awfully long time to warm up. The plot (or rather, the point inherent to the plot) doesn't make itself known for at least an hour into the proceedings, while the pretty images and visual tricks eventually become a nuisance. Singer doesn't appear to wrap things up cohesively with his finale, yet it's actually his best bit: Neal's mental handicap and Eggar's need to be the proverbial thorn in the rosebush are dealt with in solely visual terms, and the silent emotions released are triumphant. A near-miss, but worthwhile for fans of psychological melodramas verging on soap opera. **1/2 from ****