An Act of Murder

In this forgotten classic, a husband has to face the worst news imaginable: his wife has a brain tumor. They live in a small town, and the family doctor is also a close, personal friend. Together, he and the doctor agree not to tell her, so she can live out her life in as much peace as possible.

An added realism to this movie is the onscreen pairing of Fredric March and Florence Eldridge, who were married in real life. When he kisses his wife and worries how many more days he'll have with her, he's really kissing his wife. Freddie and Flo made a few movies together, and this is one of my favorites. I'm sure he would have given just as wonderful and compassionate a performance acting opposite another actress, but it's extremely touching to see him alongside his wife. If you like their rapport, check them out in Inherit the Wind.

Obviously, the title of this movie suggests some conflicting feelings about the plot. It's a very thoughtful piece that's a drama without dramatizing. It feels as real as it can be while still serving as entertainment. If you're a Fredric March fan, you've got to rent it.

The concept of tempering legality with compassion is a daring, slippery slope. It is today as it was in 1948 when this challenging film was released.

Fortunately, this drama has the great acting team Florence Eldridge and Fredric March in the lead roles, lending both power and sensitivity to their characterizations. While conceding that the law must by its nature be clear and committed, one can also empathize with the human challenges faced in the case of a terminally ill loved one who is in great pain and suffering.

Where does one draw the line in such cases, especially when a spouse accused of murder emphatically pleads guilty? It's a tough situation created here, and one that must either tread the path of legal justice or find extenuating circumstances to help relieve the inevitable sentence.

"An Act of Murder" manages to walk this tightrope with considerable balance, thanks to an outstanding cast and some petty talented writers. The film also may be considered a "lost work," despite the pairing of Mr. and Mrs. March in the lead roles.

It's also interesting to see only a single bona fide professional review in the IMDb, as though this subject may have been (and still may be) too tough to handle. The most complete review (by Bosley Crowther of the NY Times) expresses the critic's general reaction without declaring a firm stance on the controversial subject of euthanasia. And perhaps this is the best we can ever get, for the topic may be too challenging for us mortals to ever definitively solve.

There's something quite remarkable at the heart of this honest and direct portrayal of a very human crisis. The leads here - Frederic March and Florence Eldridge, real-life husband and wife - are completely and thoroughly a middle-aged couple and depicted as such, in all their wrinkles and folds and reflections on lives that have been lived. It's a reminder that the two kinds of people we see in movies are the very young and beautiful and the very old. The Cookes here are seemingly fully filled in, a husband and wife with grown children, in the midst of real lives, inhabiting their marriage with the deep love that is far beyond the romantic love that's the staple of motion pictures. This isn't the dashing Frederic March of the 1930s but a mature, restrained father and husband. It's a bit melodramatic at times - director Michael Gordon is a journeyman professional and not William Wyler, director of the great film of that era starring March, The Best Years of Our LIves. But watch for the details, such as the sharp, discordant strings stabbing along as windshield wipers swipe across the screen. I think I saw that in another movie made a few years later.

There has been no shortage of films in recent decades dealing with the highly emotive subject of Euthanasia but such was not always the case.

Although Willi Forst's 'The Sinner' from 1951 is generally credited with breaking the taboo, he was beaten to it by Richard Pottier's 'Meutres' a year earlier whilst devoted cinephiles will no doubt be aware of Wolfgang Liebeneiner's controversial 'I accuse' from 1941 which has been airbrushed out of film history because of its promotion of the Aktion T4 Euthanasia programme. The most effective episode of a mediocre British film from 1954 called 'Front Page Story' features a trial of a wife accused of 'mercy killing'.

Imagine one's surprise therefore to stumble across this novelty from Hollywood of the late 1940's adapted from Ernst Lothar's novel 'The Mills of God' and directed by Michael Gordon before he fell foul of the confounded HUAC.

Although a courageous, gripping and very well made film with committed performances from its first rate cast, it has been obliged neither to condemn nor condone the actions of a Judge who can longer bear to see his beloved wife suffer from a devastating and terminal disease. The final speech delivered by the brilliant Fredric March in which he declares that although legally innocent of murder he remains morally guilty, very much reflects the ethical and religious sensibilities of the time and the need not to offend them!

This film's relentless plotline marches straight-ahead forward as you squirm, fascinated, in your chair. The story is the familiar one about the onset of terminal illness within a solid American family of the 1940s. Never mind that it delves into MGM-style sermonizing; the great real-life husband/wife team of Fredric March and Florence Eldridge portray the couple whose once-comfortable lives are now being separated by an unstoppable and fast-advancing disease. The helpless husband, the uncomplaining wife, and their final attempt to recapture happier days with a doomed weekend outing is the stuff of deep film drama indeed. The sense of onrushing darkness is tangible through the film-noir camera shadings of Hal Mohr (Captain Blood, Phantom of the Opera [1943], The Climax), and Daniele Amfitheatrof's rich musical score. "An Act of Murder" makes a profound statement on the value, and the fragility, of life.