Sidney Lumet Frames 12 Angry Men with Artful Precision

 

           One of the most incisive, stimulating dramas from the 1950s, United Artists’ forceful production of 12 Angry Men allows audiences a deep dive into the diverse aspects that can go on in a jury room as the peers therein attempt to make a “beyond a reasonable doubt” decision. Screenwriter Reginald Rose, adapting his 1954 Emmy-winning teleplay Twelve Angry Men based on Rose’s own experiences as a juror, provides a fascinating take on the motivations, egos and biases that can come into play among an array of contrasting personalities as they seek (or try to overlook) key facts in a murder case, while attempting to determine the validity of the evidence presented by presumed eyewitnesses. Director Sidney Lumet, in a remarkable cinematic directional debut, adroitly focuses on each jury member in order to paint a full portrait of the man’s assets and flaws, while perfectly capturing the mood involved in the dour jury room surroundings, aided by Boris Kaufman’s rich black and white lensing, Carl Lerner’s complex editing and a sparse, melancholic hinged score by Kenyon Hopkins that helps set the time-and-place. One of the most dynamic, gifted casts ever, led by Henry Fonda as Juror #8, the protagonist determined to give the accused a fair shake when the initial odds look dire, work in perfect tandem with Lumet, each coming through with definitive, highly individual performances that stand as benchmarks in their careers.

Born in 1924, Lumet started his landmark career as a child actor on Broadway, before WWII caused a break in this vocation. Post-war, Lumet honed his directional skills working off-Broadway, then thrived as one of the most prolific helmers of live television fare. This expansive background made him an ideal choice to oversee a film based almost entirely on one set. Using Rose’s concise, multi-faceted script, Lumet is able to emphasize the tense environment and array of emotions each juror encounters, allowing the theatrical nature of key moments to come across in vivid fashion, due to careful staging and precise use of close-ups that reveal a juror’s mindset, while also giving the actors and camerawork the freedom to bright forth the sometimes-florid drama with a sense of immediacy and truth. The ambience Lumet is able to maintain for the 96-minute run time is also a prime achievement, with a viewer first feeling the humid, sweat-inducing courtroom climate, then a sense of relief when rain comes midway through to offer the jurors a welcome reprieve as temperatures continue to rise. Lumet also wisely provides one lingering shot of the despondent young man on trial early on, before fading into the actual jury room. This sole image stays with a viewer throughout the proceedings as a humane point of identification, reminding one of the life at stake depending on the jury’s final decision.  After this outstanding endeavor, Lumet would continue as a major force in American film, often showcasing stories based in New York City and featuring powerful acting, offering such work as A Long Day’s Journey into Night, The Pawnbroker, Serpico, possibly peaking in the mid-1970s with Dog Day Afternoon and Network, continuing apace in the 1980s with Prince of the City, The Verdict and Running on Empty, then finishing his career with aplomb via 2007’s Before the Devil Knows Your Dead, before passing in 2011.

By 1957, Henry Fonda had firmly established his screen image of the ideal American over a two-decade career as a leading figure in films, with his iconic Tom Joad in The Grapes of Wrath, perfectly-pitched comic work opposite Barbara Stanwyck in The Lady Eve and his calm-yet-intense work as the most consciousness and decent citizen in 1943’s classic The Ox-Bow Incident just three of his soaring interpretations. Co-producing 12 Angry with writer Rose after gaining clout via his massive success on stage and in the 1955 film version as the title figure in Mr. Roberts, Fonda’s clear involvement with the 12 Angry material can be witnessed in his focused, dedicated portrayal of the honest, morally upright juror #8. As the intricacies of the plot develop, Fonda also does a great of suggesting, along with the character’s decency, the self-satisfaction and ego that may also be compelling #8 to challenge the opinion of his associates. In the wrong hands this role could grow tiresome and unbelievable, as the juror relentlessly questions nearly every observation of his peers, but Fonda so clearly conveys the search for honesty and justice driving the man that a viewer can only feel great admiration for the courage and principals he possesses. Following this triumph, Fonda would continue to score on stage and film, including changing gears to phenomenal effect as one of the cinema’s nastiest villains in 1969’s Once Upon a Time in the West, then eventually winning an Oscar in 1982 for a much more likeable delineation opposite Katharine Hepburn and daughter Jane in his final feature film On Golden Pond, shortly before his passing later that year.

Lee J. Cobb, as the easily riled juror #3, finds perhaps the most ideal role for the bombastic playing style that helped make him a top character star on stage and screen during this period, particularly via his breakthrough as Willy Loman in Death of a Salesman on Broadway and his Oscar-nominated mob boss in On the Waterfront. 12 Angry provides Cobb ample opportunities for his high-powered emoting, especially when #3 frequently tangles with Fonda’s juror over contrasting opinions but also gives Cobb room to show a more ruminative side as he finds parallels between #3’s own life and the trial. Equally adept character player Ed Begley, a few years from his Oscar win for Sweet Bird of Youth, has one of the richest roles as juror #10, a garage owner firm in his belief there can only be one outcome in regard to the verdict. In a bravura scene, Begley does an expert job illustrating the inner hate impelling #10’s beliefs, while also suggesting the man isn’t initially aware how limiting and unfair his perspective is.

As juror #4, a calm, reflective stockbroker who appears only interested in reviewing the case without bias, E.G. Marshall’s stillness is remarkably effective. Marshall conveys the character’s various thoughts with subtle craft, detailing possible changes in the man’s stance on the crime without making it clear to a viewer exactly what his final vote will be, with Lumet knowing when to place Marshall front-and-center as juror #4 mulls over the twists and turns relating to the evidence. Jack Warden, after first making an impact in 1953’s From Here to Eternity, then gaining further exposure on television’s Mr. Peepers, witnessed a big 1957 uptick in his screen career, with good work in Edge of the City and The Bachelor Party also attaching notice. In 12 Angry, as juror #7, a successful, down-to-earth salesman who appears as interested in making a baseball game as in reaching the correct verdict, Warden invests the role with an uncomplicated, easy-going demeanor that helps add believability to the role.

Martin Balsam, as the foreman of the group (a.k.a. juror #1), also makes his name as an important character actor in a part that allows him to showcase how admirably he could bring depth, distinction and spontaneity to an everyman role, traits that served him well for the rest of his career, many other high-profile works. In his second film at the start of a lengthy tenure in movies, the handsomely bespeckled, amiable Robert Webber has an easy infinity with the camera as juror #12, the friendly ad executive who attempts to bring some levity to the proceedings, while also showing a more involved nature as temperatures flare up and serious choices need to be made by each juror. Similarly in his second film of an expansive acting career, John Fielder shows some of the traits that would make him a star character player as a go-to guy for parts requiring a timid disposition as juror #2, an unassuming, mild-mannered bank teller who manages to show some heart and defiance when pressured by some of his aggressive peers.  

One of two actors recreating his fine work in the teleplay, George Voskovec lends great dignity and, when warranted, passion and urgency to his most famous screen role as juror #11, an introspective European-born watchmaker trying to ensure his peers are fully invested in making a fair decision. Joseph Sweeney also makes a strong connection with the audience in adapting his television role to the big screen as juror #9, the eldest member of the group who proves himself benevolent, rational and insightful as the discussion of the case unfolds. Years before major stardom on television, Jack Klugman registers as the tough, no-nonsense juror #5, who has a vivid moment wherein he takes umbrage over labeling the defendant worthless due to his lower-class background #5 strongly identifies with. Finally, Edward Binns offers a humane, likeable portrait of juror #6, a house painter who compassionate team player, but one able to stand up to any disrespect or injustice he notices his colleagues displaying.

It would take 12 Angry time for public perception to place the work among film history’s great dramas, with lukewarm box office awaiting the movie’s April 1957 release. However, critics fully grasped its merits from the get-go, resulting in the film placing in the top ten on both The New York Times and Time magazine’s ten best lists and ranking second on the National Board of Review’s top ten, gaining Fonda a Best Actor British Academy Award and winning Rose a Writers Guild of America prize for Best Written Drama, attaining the Golden Bear for Best Picture at the Berlin Film Festival, and granting Lumet a finalist spot from the Director’s Guild of America and one of four Golden Globe nominations, along with ones for Best Drama, Actor (Fonda) and Supporting Actor (Cobb). At the Oscars, Lumet and the film would repeat for nods, with rose cited among the Best Adapted Screenplay nominees, with the cast overlooked, with the ensemble nature of the piece providing the only clue for how Fonda could be left off the short list after creating one of his most intelligent and artful performances. Recently 12 Angry has factored in the forefront on several lists, with it ranked at #2, just behind To Kill a Mockingbird, on the AFI’s 2008 list of Top Courtroom Dramas, the year after it made the AFI’s 10^th Anniversary list of the 100 greatest American films and inclusion on the National Film Registry’s inductees. The film’s increasing reputation as a landmark drama also led to a 1997 television update of the material led by Jack Lemmon and an Emmy-winning George C. Scott as jurors #8 and #3. Those wishing to delve deep into superior dramatic fare so impactful it causes viewers to reconsider how they might approach any assumptions they have in regard to (seemingly) reasonable beyond a doubt facts of a case will find themselves held in rapt reverence by the gripping, thought-provoking entertainment found in the company of 12 Angry Men.

Tony Richardson and Albert Finney Add Impish Flair to Fielding's Tom Jones

 

                 A surprisingly lively take on a classic novel, director Tony Richardson’s daring 1963 adaptation of Henry Fielding’s landmark 1749 novel The History of Tom Jones, a Foundling brings the often-ribald tale to the screen with flair and originally. Paring the lengthy tome down to a 128-minute running time via an ingenious screenplay by frequent Richardson collaborator John Osborne, with a playful score by John Addison and fast-paced editing by Antony Gibbs that also aid in swiftly covering the dashing young title hero’s wealth of exploits as he seeks fortune and romance, while encountering many antics and colorful personages in the process. Richardson impressively maintains an amusing-but-relatable tone throughout the boisterous film, carefully guiding his superb cast to create deft portraits than balance comic and sometimes more serious elements, depending on the situation. The racy, jubilant activities unfolding on the screen offered a more overt, modern perspective than normally found in films at the time, allowing Tom Jones to resonate with audiences seeking out more adult-themed material in an era wherein the Production Code was still trying to limit how mature subject matter was portrayed in movies.

                For the young maverick overseeing Tom Jones, the film would bring worldwide fame to Richardson, after he had firmly established himself as one of Britian’s leading lights, both in theater and movies.  Starting in television in the 1950’s, Richardson would quickly rise to the forefront of new directors specializing in the gritty genre of “kitchen sink dramas” after the huge success of the Osborne-penned Look Back in Anger, which debuted in London in 1956, then won further acclaim on Broadway and via a 1959 film version starring Richard Burton. Following this, Richardson would score with several other top British dramas, including The Entertainer featuring Laurence Olivier recreating his trenchant stage performance, 1961’s A Taste of Honey, which he also produced and wrote, and The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner. This imposing output served Richardson well, giving him the experience and confidence to do an abrupt about-face with the much zanier tone of Tom Jones. The director seems to know exactly when to play up the story’s more theatrical, amusing aspects by means such as speeding up the action or breaking the fourth wall, and adopting a more earnest approach, specifically in the delicate romance that blossoms between Jones and his true love, Sophie Western. Following this career peak, Richardson would continue on stage and film, including another wild comedic adaptation of a famed book with 1965’s Evelyn Waugh-based The Loved One (via a Terry Southern and Christopher Isherwood screenplay), 1975’s Mahogony starring Diana Ross, a return to Fielding territory with 1977’s less-impactful Joseph Andrews and, in his final big screen endeavor, guiding Jessica Lange to a Best Actress Oscar in Blue Sky, before his death in 1991.

                By 1963, star Albert Finney had also quickly risen up the ranks to find himself considered among the most talented artists in his field. Making a major impact on the British stage with his 1956 work as Henry V, followed by Coriolanus and, in both London and Broadway, a wealth of praise for Luther, Finney made a similar impression on screen as, after a 1960 debut in Richardson’s Entertainer, he helped (along with Burton in Anger) usher in the new breed of “Angry Young Men” in films with his powerful work in Saturday Night and Sunday Morning, which brought him a British Academy Award and notice in the states with a Best Actor prize from the National Board of Review. After his initial success in very dramatic mode, Finney’s lighter, charismatic playing in Jones demonstrated the range of his versatility, and how well suit he was for romantic comedies as well as heavy dramas. Finney enacts Tom with boyish earnestness and sincerity, while bringing a positive energy to the role that makes it easy for one to root for this spirited, good-natured hero to gain his place in the world. The inspired Finney deftly handles the high comedy escapades, while also lending a touching warmth to his scenes with Tom’s lady love, Sophie. After Jones, Finney would continue on stage and screen, with highs such as his pairing with Audrey Hepburn for 1967’s moving and stylish Two for the Road, his Oscar-nominated work as a heavily made-up Hercule Poirot in 1974’s star-studded Murder on the Orient Express, a fruitful early to mid-1980s’ period via Annie, Shoot the Moon and two more Oscar nods for The Dresser and Under the Volcano, then later career glory via his beautiful work as the perplexed-but-supportive boss to Julia Robert’s Erin Brockovich in 2000, the same year he took part as the star-packed ensemble in another big critical and commercial hit, Traffic, an Emmy as Winston Churchill for 2002’s The Gathering Storm, then ending his screen career on yet another high note in 2012’s exciting James Bond opus Skyfall, before passing in 2019 at age 82.

The lovely and gifted Susannah York witnessed a major career uptick with her excellent work as Sophie Western. Graduating from the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art as a star pupil in 1958, York started in films in 1960, making an impression in Tunes of Glory, then really coming into her own with a beautiful performance in 1961’s coming-of-age drama The Greengage Summer, followed by a challenging role in Freud: The Secret Passion, which brought her a Golden Globe nomination for Best Actress- Drama. As Sophie, York is radiant and skillful, lending a sweet, graceful air to her playing and generates a gentle, chemistry with Finney that makes their romance ring true. Along Sophie largely represents the main straight figure of the piece amid all the hijinks and clowning, she holds the screen in a compelling manner, allowing a viewer to be as vested in her character as with the more flamboyant playing of her costars. After Tom Jones, York would build a fine filmography, including 1966’s Best Picture A Man for All Seasons, winning a British Academy Award and Golden Globe and Oscar nods for harrowing work as a Hollywood hopeful in They Shoot Horses, Don’t They, a Cannes Best Actress award for Robert Altman’s Images, Emmy-nominated work as Jane Eyre and reaching a huge audience again as the title figure’s mother in 1978’s Superman and its sequel, before her death in 2011, just after her 72^nd birthday.

                Responsible for many moments of hilarity is Hugh Griffith as Squire Western, Sophie’s rude, impulsive and outspoken father. After a 1940 screen debut in Carol Reed’s Night Train to Munich, the colorful character actor stood out in many British films, such as Kind Hearts and Cornets and Laughter in Paradise, while also flourishing on stage, including Tony-nominated work on Broadway for Look Homeward, Angel, before gaining international fame and a Supporting Actor Oscar for 1959’s blockbuster Ben Hur, follow by the epics Exodus and Mutiny on the Bounty prior to Tom Jones, and in Reed’s Oscar-winning Oliver! afterwards. As Western, Griffith is clearly having the time of his life bringing the Squire’s uncouth behavior to life in an unabashed, gleeful manner, with audiences eagerly anticipating him sending the movie into the comic stratosphere every time he blasts into a scene. Although the character’s actions are often rash and sometimes unsympathetic, the lust for life and impish humor Griffith adds to the role draws a viewer to him, with Griffith also conveying that, beneath the swagger, the Squire is a decent figure who ultimately wants the best for Sophie and Tom. 

As the Squire’s regal, confident and domineering sister, Miss Western, Edith Evans stands in perfect contrast to Griffith’s blustery playing, making them a comic duo of great style and animation, as Miss Western attempts to brook no dissention from her sibling, while he appears determined to offer her nothing but sass on a supreme level. Evans made a stage debut in 1912 and became one of the British Theater’s most revered thespians before, save for a few silent movie appearances, moving into films late-career with a striking list of credits, including gloriously recreating one of her most famous roles as Lady Bracknell in 1952’s The Importance of Being Earnest, followed by Look Back in Anger and excellent work opposite Audrey Hepburn as the serene, observant Rev. Mother in 1959’s The Nun’s Story before Tom Jones, and persuasive work thereafter, including two Academy Award nominations for again bringing a famous stage role to screen in 1964’s The Chalk Garden, then delving deep to give possibly her richest, most insightful dramatic portrayal as the lonely old woman clinging to reality in 1967’s The Whisperers, winning a slew of Best Actress prizes in the process but, alas, no Oscar. Evans would continue on stage and the screen up to her death at 88 in 1976, capping her illustrious career with a posthumous appearance in another uninhabited comedy set in a religious order far from The Nun’s Story, Nasty Habits.

Among the rest of a truly top-notch group of players, the bemused Joyce Redman makes one of the strongest impressions as the vivacious and quick-witted Mrs. Waters, with an unforgettable entrance before, in the most famous scene, sharing the lustiest and funniest meal in cinema history with Finney. Joan Greenwood and her distinct, seductive voice are a sublime match for Lady Bellaston, who takes a blatant interest in Tom and his charms. Early in the film Diane Cilento, with scant screen time, also scores heavily as the lusty Molly, a free spirit who passes time with Tom and takes life as it comes. In his first major film role David Warner adeptly delineates Tom’s chief adversary, Blifil, clearly relishing the opportunity to illustrate the calm-but oily villain’s every unchivalrous move, while Lynn Redgrave gets her first film career boost, with a much bigger soon to come as Georgy Girl. Other well-regarded players include Redgrave’s mother, Rachel Kempson, Peter Bull, David Tomlinson, gearing up for Mary Poppins, Wilfrid Lawson and Avis Bunnage.

                Upon release, Tom Jones’ breezy, irreverent tone found great favor with critics and audiences, with the film gaining a then-mammoth $16,000,000 in first-run U.S./Canadian rentals, according to Variety, placing it among the top comedy hits of the 1960’s. Critics were effusive in their praise, leading to a wealth of accolades, including Best Picture awards from The National Board of Review, The New York Film Critic’s Awards, The British Academy Awards (for Best British Film and Best Film From Any Source) and the Golden Globes, as well as placement on The New York Times Ten Best list. Richardson also gained prizes from the NBR and NYFC, as well as the Directors Guild of America award, while Finney won the NYFC and Venice Film Festival Best Actor prizes and a Golden Globe for Most Promising Newcomer- Male. Come Oscar time, the film scored ten nominations, including ones for cast members Cilento, Finney, Evans, Griffith and Redman, while winning for Best Picture, Director, Adapted Screenplay and Best Music Score- Substantially Original.

Although the movie was clearly influential and embraced at the time, helping to usher in the Swingin’ Sixties and British Invasion with the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, Julie Christie and Twiggy just around the corner (among many others), reappraisal of the movie’s quality over the years has not always been positive, with some deeming the film a lark not worthy of the major laurels it once receive, going so far as to place it among the “Worst Best Picture” winners. The author may be biased as, watching the film as a treen during a late-night showing he, expecting a dry, serious Best Picture drama, was delighted to discovered one of the funniest movies he’d yet seen; however, trying to maintain an objective view, the quality of the film and performances hold up, and one wonders if the standard, tired bias regarding comedy work being considered “lesser” than dramatic endeavors in deeming films worthy of awards is at play to a degree in demeriting the considerable assets of Richardson’s high-flying comedy. In any case, it’s hard to ignore the freshness and sense of joie de vivre found in the stylish, rousing adventures of the amorous but good-hearted title character as depicted by Richardson and an A-one cast and crew; those seeking an enjoyable adult romp with plenty of comic brio should find a satisfying cinematic feast with the richly entertaining Tom Jones.

Deborah Kerr Seeks a Higher Cinematic Calling in Black Narcissus

 

                One of the finest and most erotically-charged dramas to come from filmdom’s classic era, 1947’s Black Narcissus represents a literal peak in the work of British producer/director team Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger, with its story of Anglican nuns becoming increasingly unsettled as they attempt to run a school and hospital high in the Himalayas at the site of a former harem. The exotic locale presents a wealth of challenges for the young Sister Clodagh placed in charge of the operation, with religious themes involving faith daringly mixed with more carnal subject matter. Powell and Pressburger, who also adapted the screenplay (based on a 1939 novel by Rumor Godden) do a remarkable job in maintaining a sensual, dreamy tone throughout the film, with Technicolor expert Jack Cardiff’s lush, evocative cinematography ranking among the finest ever put on film, and doing much to aid in setting the proper aura for the unconventional movie, along with Alfred Junge’s inventive set designs and Brian Easdale’s pulsating score. An inspired cast led by the impeccable Deborah Kerr lends truth and complexity to their choice roles, helping to quickly capture the viewer’s interest, and hold them in rapt attention through the movie’s spellbinding 100 minutes.

                By the time of Narcissus, Powell and Pressburger had established themselves as a creative filmmaking team of unusual vision. Prior to their fruitful alliance, which they labeled “The Archers,” Powell had honed his skills in 1930’s British Cinema before being hired by famed producer Alexander Korda and rising to eminence as one of the co-directors of 1940’s hypnotically watchable fantasy The Thief of Bagdad, while the Hungarian-born Pressburger had been a journalist before  entering films via the UFA studios, working in German and French films before relocating to the United Kingdon in 1935, eventually also teaming with Korda and meeting Powell via a Korda collaboration in 1939. The dynamic partners were in synch from the get-go, turning out such important WWII-era films as 49^th Parallel, One of Our Aircraft is Missing, A Canterbury Tale, The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp and A Matter of Life and Death.

After this impressive run, the fully formed team were clearly ready to design one of the most richly atmospheric offerings yet seen on the screen. With conviction and zeal, Powell and Pressburger foster and maintain an ambience of mystery surrounding Narcissus’ characters and their environment, arousing an audience’s senses as they follow the extravagant tale, wondering what fate each of these often-overwhelmed sisters will meet, leading to the movie’s famous bizarre, hair-raising climax. After the impactful Narcissus, the team would score an even bigger global Technicolor success with the florid The Red Shoes, followed by, among others, an intriguing effort with David O. Selznick, Gone to Earth, then another original, dance-oriented musical offering, The Tales of Hoffman, before the end of their legendary pairing in 1957, although reuniting for two further projects, after Powell individually produced and directed the then-vilified but now revered daring 1960 psychological horror classic Peeping Tom.

As the multidimensional Sister Clodagh, Deborah Kerr moved to the forefront of top British stars with her focused, subtle and distinguished portrayal. Starting out in ballet, the teenaged Kerr would make her debut in 1941’s Major Barbara, before gaining much attention via Colonel Blimp, then offering another top performance just before Narcissus in I See a Dark Stranger. As Sister Clodagh, Kerr instinctually illustrates both the novice nun’s steely resolve and her insecurities in taking on an authoritarian role possibility beyond her skillset, adroitly limning the complexities of the challenging role with intelligence and elan. Kerr also displays her uncanny knack for hinting at the sexuality just underneath the proper exterior of a character, which would subsequently add plenty of individuality to some of her best work and help Kerr form her own distinct image as one of the screen’s classiest-yet-quietly-passionate leading ladies. Following Narcissus, Kerr would immediately segway into U.S. movie stardom via a prime MGM contract, starting with 1947’s The Hucksters opposite Clark Gable, with promotional material making it clear that “Kerr” rhymes with “star.” Kerr proved the tagline correct by becoming one of the top names in Hollywood over the course of a very rich career that included six Best Actress Oscar nominations (but alas, no wins), and the chance to display her top-tier talent in series of classics, including Quo Vadis, iconically trysting on a beach with Burt Lancaster in From Here to Eternity, The King And I and The Innocents and having a triumph on Broadway in 1953 with Tea and Sympathy, a performance she recreated in the watered-down 1956 screen adaptation. After the 1960s Kerr mainly would opt for stage and television work over films, standing out in the fine 1982 t.v. version of Agatha Christie’s Witness for the Prosecution, then showing up to receive one of the most warranted honorary Academy Awards in 1994, before her passing at 86 in 2007.

             The magnetic David Farrar is confidently suave and sexy in a direct manner not often seen in films of the period as Mr. Dean, the local, handsome, primitive free spirit who aides the sisters and causes plenty of unrest among them. Farrar makes Dean’s primal attraction to Sister Clodagh believable and steamy, generating a provocative chemistry with Kerr that makes one wonder exactly how true to her vows the roused Sister will be able to stay before the final fade-out, with Farrar so potentially illustrating Mr. Dean’s animalistic presence as a continual factor in Clodagh’s new environment. Farrar begin his British film career in the 1930s, but had limited success until his efficacious work in Narcissus. Following the higher profile in movies his fine rendering of Mr. Dean would bring Farrar, he would go on to play in some notable pictures, both in Britian and beyond, including reunions with the Powell/Pressburger team for The Small Back Room and Gone to Earth, and work in Hollywood productions such as The Black Shield of Falworth, Solomon and Sheba and his final film, 1962’s The 300 Spartans, while his stimulating portrait of Mr. Dean remained his most significant and memorable role.

Bringing much excitement to the film as Sister Ruth, the uninhibited neurotic whose nature becomes progressively more passionate and discontent as events unfold, Kathleen Byron performs with an electric intensity that is bewitching. From the outset, Byron vividly conveys the dangerous undercurrent in Sister’s Ruth’s disposition, making an audience uneasy in regards to just how far the character will go in expressing herself, specifically as the conflict between her and Sister Clodagh grows in regards to authority and fostering Mr. Dean’s attentions, leading to one of the more thrilling final confrontations in movies. Byron worked in Powell and Pressburger films both prior to (A Matter of Life and Death) and post-Narcissus (The Small Back Room) and also found late-career success appearing in several prestigious pictures (The Elephant Man, Emma, Saving Private Ryan), but her lasting fame rests largely on her unnerving work as the troubled and formidable Sister Ruth (Bryon once commented on getting a taxi and having the driver simply state, “You’re that crazy nun.”). 

In support, esteemed character player Flora Robson adds a nice melancholic air to dreamy Sister Philippa, who becomes distracted from her role as chief gardener by the mysterious vibes brought about by the strange new climate. Robson had thrived as an important star in British theater and films starting in the 1920s, and would also score in American cinema, with a highlight coming a couple of years before Narcissus with her Oscar-nominated (if un-P.C. today) as a maid in Saratoga Trunk. As Dilip Rai, the affluent young general who wishes to learn from the nuns, the well-established Korda  Sabu is allowed a refreshening change-of-pace from the loinclothed roles that brought him fame, starting with his debut at thirteen in 1937’s Elephant Boy and continuing with The Drum, an early peak in The Thief of Bagdad, The Jungle Book and several marvelous escapist fare from Universal Pictures featuring Arabian Nights themes, Jon Hall and Maria Montez, specifically 1944’s wondrously diverting Cobra Woman; it’s interesting to see the exotic star in regal garb in a much more reserved, dignified type of role. As the beautiful native girl who captures his fancy, Jean Simmons is properly mischievous and observant, continuing her upward trend as a leading young star in British films, after breaking through as the young Estella the previous year in David Lean’s Great Expectations, them making major career headway following Narcissus with and Ophelia for the ages in Laurence Oliver’s 1948 screen version of Hamlet, which brough Simmons an Oscar nomination and Venice Film Festival Best Actress award. Finally, as Angu Ayan, the pessimistic, witchlike housekeeper, the animated May Hallatt brings color and humor to the scenario.

With a London premiere in the spring of 1947, the imaginative, engrossing Black Narcissus gained a wealth of praise for its stark depiction of adult themes, rich performances and florid dramatic sequences. The film would go on to success on an international scale, resulting in Deborah Kerr winning the first of three Best Actress awards from the New York Film Critics Circle (with I See a Dark Stranger- a.k.a. The Adventuress- also cited in her win) and justified honors from the Golden Globes and the Academy Awards for Cardiff’s illustrious cinematography, with Junge also winning an Oscar for his impeccable set design. Over the decades, along with Powell and Pressburger’s elevated status as masters of the cinematic form (several of the team’s films, including Narcissus, placed on the latest Sight and Sound poll among the greatest movies ever made), Black Narcissus has continued to grow in status as a rare example of how perceptively mature topics can be presented in classic movies with style and tact, while losing none of the power to compel audiences with an emotionally-charged, tantalizing viewing experience.