Das Geheimnis der Frau in Weiß

This is one of those exquisitely crafted, though flawed in spots, old movies that you can just lose yourself in. Great sets, costumes, dialogue and photography (excellent atmospheric use of shadows). Sydney Greenstreet, along with Lee J. Cobb probably the finest character actor in the history of film, gives a typically extraordinary performance. He marches through his scenes with that famous bored superiority, and revels in always being the most intelligent person in the room. He makes no secret of his disdain for the transparent notions and motivations of those around him, and delights in always having the last scathing word. Gig Young, as the leading man, is handsome and dashing enough for the role; but he has a funny, crooked way of talking that always makes you feel like he should be playing big city 1950's newspaper reporters. In other words, he's somewhat miscast, but not fatally so. Eleanor Parker plays the title character delicately and memorably - it's hard to understand how such a beautiful and talented actress isn't as well remembered as some others.

It loses steam about 2/3 of the way in and climaxes a little clumsily, but on balance this is an above average effort with much to recommend it.

I'll sheepishly admit to having seen NO version of the apparently VERY popular Willkie novel until seeing the Andrew Lloyd Webber musical adaptation on Broadway recently. Came out of the Marquis Theater with a passion to see ALL prior adaptations, and this delectable one is my first. LOVED it! Without doing any "spoilers," let me advise others like me who are seeking this out in the wake of the musical that the musical cut one MAJOR character, that being the Countess Fosco (played here with breathtaking abandon by the fabulous Agnes Moorehead), and despite several story alterations to the musical that I appreciate (it's a bit more emotionally gripping), the Countess might have helped improve the musical. But mostly I'm coming here to make a statement of appreciation for the great Sydney Greenstreet, whose Count Fosco is simply as masterful a portrait of evil as I've ever seen, and a career peak for one of the cinema's greatest character actors. Only problem with the film, whose cast is wonderful in its entirety, is that at its finale, it just sorta trickles away into a forced and artificial-feeling happy ending that I just KNOW couldn't have been in the novel. Otherwise, a swift and engrossing 109 minutes.

Notice how fluidly the one-and-only Sydney Greenstreet moves his prodigious bulk across drawing-room floors, like a greedy shark among stumbling minnows. No movie with him can be ignored, especially one that showcases his heavyweight talent. Here, as Count Frasco, he schemes ruthlessly to cheat hapless Eleanor Parker (in a dual role) out of her family fortune. And he does it with such style and civilized malevolence. Without him, the film would amount to little more than a well-mounted and occasionally engaging Gothic mystery. With him, it appears better than it is.

Except for a few grotesque close-ups of Greenstreet, director Godfrey films the scenes in straightforward fashion, as though they come straight from the pages of the Collins book. Thanks, however, to Warner's art department and set designer, the visuals come across as generally atmospheric and evocative of the period. Nonetheless, someone should have told composer Max Steiner that not every scene needs scoring, especially when the notes sound as if they thunder from the bottom of a well. Then too, the script should have made better use of the great Agnes Moorehead (just count her lines), one of the few actresses with enough gravitas to go toe-to-toe with the formidable Greenstreet. You just know at first glance, she's no one to mess with.

Somehow, I kept wishing Val Lewton ("Cat People", "Seventh Victim") had gotten hold of the material first. This movie could have used his eye for combining the literary with the uncanny, which would go beyond atmosphere to cast a much-needed hypnotic spell, particularly in Anne's outdoor scenes (the actual woman in white). As things stand, the movie's an okay entertainment, with a chance to view some of Warner's leading contract players, circa 1948.

Over the weekend, I saw two wonderful films, both of the English Gothic variety. The first was Guillermo del Toro's marvelous "Crimson Peak" (2015), which must surely go down as one of the most gorgeous-to-look-at horror films ever made, but one that is surely not for the squeamish. And the second film was also a decidedly Gothic affair, "The Woman In White" (1948), a product of the Warner Brothers studio. This is an Eleanor Parker film that I had never seen before, and costars Alexis Smith, Gig Young, the great Sydney Greenstreet, John Abbott (who most viewers, including me, will probably best remember as the bearded Organian Ayelborne in the classic "Star Trek" episode "Errand of Mercy") and Agnes Moorehead. Yes, it really is a terrific cast. Eleanor, who has rarely looked more beautiful, plays two roles in this one; twin cousins. The FX used when the two appear on screen at the same time are very convincingly brought off, I might add. Here, Gig plays an art instructor who goes to a lonely English estate, Limmeridge House, to tutor Laura (our Eleanor). But on the road there, he is approached by the ghostly woman in white of the title (Eleanor again), who would seem to be an escapee from a lunatic asylum. What later develops is a scheme by Greenstreet and some others to marry Laura off and strip her of her fortune, replete with poisoning, murder, hypnotism, blackmail, family secrets, secret passageways, etc. The film's plot is marvelously complicated, thanks to the Wilkie Collins novel of 1859 on which it was based, and the script is deliciously literate, delivered by that great cast of pros. The film was directed by somebody named Peter Godfrey, with whom I was not familiar, but who does a terrific job here. And the film's music was provided by Max "King Kong" Steiner, so say no more, right? Alexis Smith is given top billing in the film, although Eleanor does get top billing on the poster, as you'll notice. And for me, she easily steals the film, with her extraordinary beauty and double role. This is the first time that I had seen an Eleanor film from the '40s--previously, 1950's "Chained Lightning" and "Caged" were my earliest films of hers--and it was interesting to see how wonderful she could be at this younger stage in her career. She and Moorehead were excellent together in "Caged," and are terrific paired in this earlier picture, as well. This film comes more than highly recommended by yours truly....

"The Woman in White" has been adapted many times over the years, including into a Broadway show with music by Andrew Lloyd Webber.

This is a wonderful, compelling adaptation done in black and white, starring Gig Young, Alexis Smith, Eleanor Parker, Agnes Moorhead and Sidney Greenstreet.

Young plays an art instructor en route to the Fairlie home when he meets a woman in white, who runs away from him. When he arrives at the house and sees the two young women of the house, Marian (Smith) who is the older and Laura (Parker) he is struck by the resemblance the woman in white has to Laura. Thus begins a mystery that brings him deeply into the lives of Marian, Laura ... and the woman in white.

The best role in the film is that of the evil Count Fosco, played by Sidney Greenstreet, who is up to the task - he's excellent. In the musical, he has the big show-stopping number in the show with a real mouse - here he has a different pet.

I believe also unless I've gone crazy that the Broadway musical ended differently than the film - I don't know how the book ended. The ending here seems quite Hollywood.

Gig Young is likable as Walter, Alexis Smith is beautiful and charming as Marian, and Agnes Moorhead is very effective as the understandably miserable Countess Fosco.

Then there is Eleanor Parker who is positively radiant, and so good in a dual role. Why such an excellent actress and beauty is not better known today is probably because in her youth, I don't believe she ever got that really monster film that would have put her over.

I can only say I saw her in Pal Joey as Vera in 1977, and she was fantastic. Could she have done the Deborah Kerr role in From Here to Eternity? Something for Hitchcock? Don't know.

A true treasure from Warner Brothers, right up there with some other films they've never bothered to release on DVD, Three Strangers being one. Try to catch this on TCM.