Psyche 59

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

This film came on Turner Classic Movies recently, with the host mentioning that it was the film's debut on that channel, and the first film Patricia Neal made after winning the Oscar for Hud.

The story concerns a privileged upper-class blind woman named Alison (Neal), her husband Eric (Jurgens) and her younger sister, Robin (Eggar). At first all seems perfectly OK, given the circumstances, but bits of conversation are dropped here and there, darting looks are thrown here and there, and soon we realize that there is something lurking beneath the veneer of a privileged life. Alison, in the final stages of her second pregnancy, suffered a fall in her home that rendered her blind, though as she states early on, it's not that her corneas don't function, it's that her brain won't permit her to see images (paraphrasing here). Apparently this happened in 1959, hence the "'59" in the title: The story then takes place in 1964, five years after this fact, over a time period that seems to be about a month, or maybe two, when Robin re-arrives back into the lives of Eric and Alison after what appears to be a 5-year absence.

The black-and-white cinematography adds much to this film, such that I believe if it were in color, it would not be as effective. The language, dialogue and subject matter covered was ahead of its time, at least by U.S. standards, but stylistically, this matches a number of thrillers and socially-conscious dramas that came out of England in the early- to mid-1960s (e.g., Victim, Pumpkin Eater, etc.).

The first part of the film, set in London, sets up the story beautifully, and it isn't long before we start to realize that something's "up" - the carefully-worded dialogue, with certain key words and phrases omitted, or the glances of the blind Alison behind her sunglasses, to the beat of her words...you see that all that glitters is not gold, so to speak.

The second part of the film takes place at the characters' country house, located near a coastline; It is here that the set-up for what could be a riveting tale, as depicted in the first part of the film, loses steam and slows to a crawl, such that the conclusion is neither climactic nor satisfying; this is a shame, because it could have been done much better. Besides that, I do agree with the comments made by a previous observer, including that the grandmother doesn't seem quite grandmotherly (and actually, I'm sort of confused as to why this character is even in the picture).

Nonetheless, the acting is superb by all the leads, and particularly by Neal, who carries the film, in my opinion. Pay attention to every movement she makes, whether it's with her eyes, her head or her hands; listen intently to every syllable she utters, for it is through her character that we understand the real story of what has happened, or is happening, to these three people.

The movie is based on a book by the same name by Francoise des Ligneris, which is available online.

Obviously based on a novel (and on a novel by a woman too). I saw this film on TV forty years ago and remembered only the menacing conversation the heroine has with her mother, but that was sufficient to make me want to take another look at it again.

Having enjoyed enormous critical acclaim a couple of years earlier with 'A Cold Wind in August', Alexander Singer blew all the clout he'd gained with that freak success in this elaborate, breaktakingly pretentious folly about the love lives of the fabulously wealthy; and found himself condemned to spend the rest of his career in television. But 'Psyche 59' has awarded him the last laugh, it exists.

A weird hybrid of 'The Miracle Worker' and 'The Pumpkin Eater' (both of which ironically starred Anne Bancroft, who replaced Patricia Neal when she nearly died following a series of debilitating strokes while filming '7 Women' in 1965, barely a year after she'd won an Oscar for 'Hud'). Had Ms Neal died this film would probably be better remembered today, and it would certainly make it an even more vivid experience to watch than it already is. She wears a succession of fabulous outfits devised by Julie Harris plus a pair of those chic sunglasses that blind people always do in the movies, the photography by Walter Lassally is stunning, and the restless score by Kenneth V. Jones creates a similar mood to that his music lent soon afterwards to Roger Corman's 'The Tomb of Ligeia'.

Definitely a film to be watched at least once.

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.

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.