Der Gefangene

For a man with such extensive Shakespearian stage experience, Alec Guinness certainly didn't show movie audiences the depth of his talent. You can catch a few movies if you know where to look, but in general, his usual fare doesn't leave a lasting impression. Perhaps that was why he donned disguises so often; maybe he feared just being himself wasn't good enough? My hypothesis notwithstanding, you must know he wasn't knighted because of his work in Star Wars. If you want to see his real talent he kept bottled up for the rest of his film career, find the forgotten drama The Prisoner.

It's a cat-and-mouse film with virtually two players: Alec Guinness and Jack Hawkins. Alec plays a cardinal arrested on suspicion of treason, and Jack plays the interrogator bent on extracting a confession. For political reasons, Jack and the men of his fictional fascist government need Alec to confess. If he dissolutions his followers, they'll be easier to control. To avoid Alec's martyrdom, Jack has to be very careful in his interrogation tactics.

Depending on your point of view of the story, either of the men could be considered the lead. With nearly equal screen time, it's a toss up. Alec is obviously the focus, as he's imprisoned and psychologically tortured; but Jack soon looks at his assignment as more than just a job and becomes obsessed with making Alec break. Both men do exactly what is asked of them in the script and show talents they didn't usually show in their other movies. Their timing, chemistry, and feed off each other's energy is very engaging, even if the genre doesn't usually appeal to you. I wasn't expecting to like the film, but I couldn't tear my eyes away. I can't count how many times I said, "I didn't know he had it in him," when Alec would scream or cry. Can you imagine Alec Guinness crying? Here at the Hot Toasty Rag, we love rewarding three types of performances: the "what does it take?" performance, the obscure performance, and the best performance of one's career. As Alec's falls in all three categories, we were very happy to honor him in 1955.

In an unnamed country behind the Iron Curtain, the government orders the arrest of the Cardinal (Alec Guinness) on charges of treason. The government wants the Cardinal to confess to his crimes so that the international community will hear it, so they set the Interrogator (Jack Hawkins) to work. He orders a battery of psychological tortures be used against the Cardinal, interrupted by regular, brow-beating interrogation sessions. The Cardinal's resolve is very strong, but the Interrogator may be stronger.

Based on a play by Bridget Boland (who also scripted this film version), the stage origins of the material are apparent. Director Glenville does what he can to open things up with some scenes set out in the oppressed streets, and using off-beat camera set-ups and editing to enliven the lengthy one-on-one dialogue sessions between Guinness and Hawkins. The story line is of its time (it was based on a couple of real incidents), but the subjects of mental and spiritual endurance in the face of extreme stress are universal. The performances by Guinness and Hawkins are excellent, and I also liked Wilfrid Lawson as the agreeable Jailer.

A classic sadly almost ignored and forgotten probably because of it's small scale being a quite simple screen version of the popular stage play. Alec Guinness is the Cardinal arrested by the state during the Cold War, Jack Hawkins is the state inquisitor trying to break him. Ex comrades in arms, fighting in the Resistance against the Nazis; they now find themselves on opposing sides of Church and State. An intense battle of wills ensues, superb performances all round including Wilfred Lawson as the jailer. Highly recommended.

This film is often overlooked but if you can find it, it is well worth your while. Adapted from a stage play it is admittedly slow and talky, but it does challenge the intellect. Guiness and Hawkins are brilliant as a churchman consumed with self doubt and a zealot consumed with the state. Their battle of wits forms the crux of this many layered work. A rather pale love story added to the screen play simply detracts from the films power. This is a film that will challenge you to think. It requires work on the part of the viewer and, as a result, is not everyone's cup of tea. Any fan of great acting shouldn't miss it.

Inspired by the plight of Catholic Cardinal Josef Mindszenty behind the Iron Curtain – already the subject of a worthwhile low-budget Hollywood film, GUILTY OF TREASON (1950; see above) – this prestigious British production (based on a Bridget Boland play, who adapts her own work for the screen) boasts two powerhouse performances by Alec Guinness (as the proud Prince of the Church) and Jack Hawkins (as the wily Interrogator). Their interaction is a beauty to behold and one cannot help but be reminded how these formidable actors had already worked together in, curiously enough, MALTA STORY (1953) and, of course, would go on to do so again under David Lean's Oscar-winning direction in THE BRIDGE ON THE RIVER KWAI (1957) and LAWRENCE OF ARABIA (1962). Although much of the running time is devoted to their rigorous one-on-one sessions (enough for it to be deemed a two-hander), the film allows (at least) another fine actor to shine: Wilfred Lawson as Guinness' jailer who grows to respect his prisoner with time. The small cast also includes Kenneth Griffith as Hawkins' eager-to-learn subordinate – incidentally, the latter also appeared in two episodes of Patrick McGoohan's later cult TV series of the same name but which bore no relation to this movie! – and Raymond Huntley as Hawkins' impatient superior. Conversely, the romantic subplot between doubting Communist Ronald Lewis and his Catholic girlfriend Jeanette Sterke seems forced and intrusive – almost like an afterthought (whereas it had been far more effectively handled in the aforementioned Hollywood treatment). But, as I said before, the film's trump card is its gradual depiction of the evolving relationship between the two leads, which really has no equivalent in GUILTY OF TREASON (where Charles Bickford's tormentors were various and generally shrouded in darkness). Although the main characters and the setting remain unnamed throughout (lending it a pretentious air of political allegory also missing from the earlier film), the controversial subject of THE PRISONER got it banned from participating in both the Cannes and Venice Film Festivals – although it did get nominated for 5 BAFTAs and, eventually, won a couple of other international awards.