Rage in Heaven

One of James Hilton's lesser novels got a lesser production from MGM with his Day Of Reckoning becoming Rage In Heaven. This has to be one of the few instances where a psychiatrist saves the day.

I think it ironic that Robert Montgomery got cast in the lead here against his usual type. It must have been an easier sell to Louis B. Mayer to cast him after having proved his acting chops in Night Must Fall. Playing another charming maniac got Montgomery an Academy Award nomination in that film. So Mayer having been convinced was less reluctant to have him cast here.

When we first meet Montgomery we find him inside an insane asylum in France and while his doctor, Oscar Homolka is discussing his case, Montgomery up and escapes from the place. Making it back to Great Britain he goes back to his mother's place and Lucille Watson as the mother welcomes him, not knowing of his hiatus in the booby hatch.

She's got a nice new secretary/companion in Ingrid Bergman and Montgomery likes her lot. She likes George Sanders his good friend and incidentally it was Sander's character name under which Montgomery was in the asylum under.

Montgomery woos and wins Ingrid, he's now running Watson's factory and that makes him a big man and no doubt helps his cause with Ingrid. Sanders is now working for him. But this Othello has his own Iago inside him provoking the green eyed monster without any outside provocation.

When Bergman turns to Sanders after one of Montgomery's inexplicable rages, Montgomery conceives a diabolical plot to frame Sanders for his own murder. That's the best part of the film, there's no way Sanders could have or should have gotten out of it. Especially without Montgomery to be questioned.

I liked the fact that both Montgomery and Sanders were playing against type. Sanders is a good guy, one of the few films he's not working any angles. Ingrid was steadfast and loyal, her part's not that much of a stretch for her talents.

I won't give away the ending, but let me say it was way too contrived and coincidental. Rage In Heaven does not belong in the top tier of films for any of the three leads.

The first half of this film is a fascinating portrayal of a Paranoid Psychopath. The second half deteriorates into an in-earnest attempt to deliver a thoughtful look at someone suffering from this form of mental illness.

Ingrid Bergman, in her third Hollywood feature, is the subject of a dangerous obsession from her husband, a wealthy heir, who lacks self-esteem and lives in a constant state of jealously and prone to being easily agitated. Robert Montgomery plays the ticking bomb.

Parenthetically, Montgomery was reportedly unhappy the studio demanded he play the role because he wanted time off and therefore delivered his lines quickly and without much effort. I found this to be, ironically, effective for the character.

The great George Sanders plays the man in most danger of the lead character's pathological illness. Unfortunately, his character is given little to work with in the third act of the film.

There's a scene where a trial is held and the apathy displayed by Sanders (with the exception of one shot) is astonishing.

In the 1940s Hollywood began its fascination with stories focused on psychology. This is one of the first films in that era and unfortunately it was put in the hands of director W. S. Van Dyke, who had the reputation of working quickly and was nicknamed "One-Take Van Dyke." You can see characters trip over lines and a lack of care over the story's plot line.

Oscar Homolka seriously overplays the mental health doctor in the picture. Clearly the rage over the film's miscues should be directed at Van Dyke.

I guess I'll be the resident moron of this film's comment section. I liked Rage in Heaven. It was entertaining, interesting, and involving.

I realize Robert Montgomery phoned in his role. His complete detachment makes the character evil rather than sick, and one cannot feel sympathy for him, if we were ever supposed to. The biggest problem is that his flat line readings and cool demeanor make it unbelievable that Bergman married a man so completely lacking in self-esteem, charm, and ardor.

The very young, pre-superstar Ingrid Bergman is marvelous - very fresh and vibrant in the beginning, her personality becoming more somber after a short time being married to Montgomery. And who can blame her. George Sanders is excellent, his portrayal possessing all the charm and passion Montgomery lacks.

As far as this plot being contrived, perhaps, but it was also clever. The original ending of "Fatal Attraction" was based on the same idea. Seen in today's modern perspective "Rage in Heaven" is most interesting. The obsession that Phillip had for Wade - very bizarre indeed!

Lighten up reviewer and enjoy this movie for what it is. Good Old fashioned entertainment. I've watched this movie man times and always enjoy it. Aubrey Mather as Clark is worth the admission price.

A somber-hued melodrama whose psychology is more compelling than its dramaturgy, Rage in Heaven sounds many of the minor-key motifs and dark timbres that would shortly coalesce into the noir cycle. Its most striking aspect has to be its acceptance of its disturbed central character as a given, without attempting to supply a neat, reassuring `explanation.'

The story – set in England, for no good reason – opens with a teasing prelude at a French insane asylum. But soon, in London, we meet up with Robert Montgomery as he meets up with old chum George Sanders and whisks him off to the country house of Montgomery's widowed mother (Lucile Watson), who in ailing health has retained the services of a companion (Ingrid Bergman). Though Bergman and Sanders generate some electricity, when he departs she marries Montgomery. This proves ill-advised.

Montgomery, who reluctantly has taken charge of the family's steel works, shows himself to be not only incompetent, irrationally jealous and vindictive, but also self-loathing, desperately insecure, and (as it turns out, like his father) suicidal. He requires unquestioned obedience, even at the risk of running his business into the ground – or poisoning his marriage. He lures back Sanders in order to validate his suspicions of an affair between his wife and his best friend but, when no evidence emerges, devises a fiendish plot to ruin all their lives. His plans almost succeed, but for an eleventh-hour deus ex machina, in the person of the head of that sanitarium in the outskirts of Paris.

Though somewhat cleverly contrived, the ending remains a contrivance yet doesn't quite invalidate the movie's dark vision (perhaps owing more to Christopher Isherwood, who wrote the screenplay, than to James Hilton's novel). Montgomery elects to play a charming villain, as he did in Night Must Fall, perhaps unsure of just how to depict a deranged psyche (he wasn't far off the mark). Sanders gets wasted as a square-rigger, which was never his long suit.

That leaves the radiant Bergman, two years before Casablanca assured her stardom, handed the thankless world of the loyal, longanimous wifey. In this flawed but unsettling and precocious melodrama, it's she who utters the final benediction. That benediction lingers in the mind as an enlightened touch – and a far cry from the black/white mentality of today's thrillers, which view psychological aberration as just a more heinous kind of evil, and so a further justification for triumphantly exterminating the evildoers.