Psyche 59

Allison Crawford (Patricia Neal) is a happy mother of two. She is blind. She lost her memory of the incident and the blindness may be all in her head. Her husband Eric Crawford (Curd Jürgens) seems supportive. Her younger sister Robin (Samantha Eggar) comes for a visit.

I like the opening premise. I really like Robin flirting with Eric right in front of Allison. I wouldn't mind them stuck together and cook like a simmering stew. Instead, they get split up and that energy dissipates. Patricia Neal tries. Samantha Eggar does her sex kitten best. Curd Jürgens gets pairs up with a dud. The nice simmering stew becomes a boring mess as the filmmaker keeps stirring and adding poor ingredients. By the time they reunite with a couple of other characters, the movie has lost the intensity and it could not regain it.

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

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 ****

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.