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.