Venganza de mujer

The obvious movie title here rather negates the initial whodunit mystery of who really killed, if indeed she was killed, the troubled invalid wife, Rachel Kempson, of philandering country gentleman, Charles Boyer. It could have been suicide, maybe it was the wife's devoted but jealous, approaching middle-age friend Jessica Tandy or even the waspish nurse Mildred Gatwick but soon enough the fickle finger of blame points squarely at Boyer, who we learn, has motives for murder coming out of his ears. Firstly, he plainly doesn't love his wife, secondly, he's cutting about with his adoring teenage lover, soon-enough his wife, Ann Blyth and thirdly he's just taken out a large death policy on his wife's life.

And die she does, of poisoning, which naturally brings Boyer a world of trouble as he is charged with and goes on trial for his wife's murder. We learn that Tandy carries a bigger torch than Lady Liberty for Boyer and see him reject her advances which certainly lines her up as a woman of vengeance from where I'm sitting. The accused has only one real ally, although considering the help he offers Boyer, we should all have the family doctor, Cedric Hardwicke on our side.

Anyway, I'll leave the plot hanging there lest I give too much away. Unsurprisingly, given the film was adapted from a play of the celebrated novelist Aldous Huxley who also contributed to the screenplay, there are screeds of heavy dialogue with little in the way of backgound music to influence the viewer's perceptions one way or the other. Some of this dialogue is quite weighty and intense but it just as often flounders into unnatural bombast

Director Zoltan Korda steps politely over and around some of the stickier plot-points and unlikely and sometimes fast-changing characterisations. Boyer is good as the love-him-or-hate-him central character, Tandy is even better as the spurned sinister spinster while Hardwicke is solid as the doc who literally clocks what's going on.

Although it's all highly unlikely, I was nonetheless carried along by the sometimes improbable events depicted. Characters exchange a lot of often expository dialogue as the narrative grinds ever further forward and I liked the surprising and unconventional ending with the viewer left to the job of tying up the loose ends by themselves.

An unusual but far from uninteresting and uninvolving feature.

Aldous Huxley possessed one of the greatest intellects and was one of the most original thinkers of the Twentieth, or indeed, any century. He also made a great deal of money writing screenplays in Hollywood.

His short story of 1922 'The Giaconda Smile' is his most anthologised and so as not to baffle the average cinema-goer the title here has been changed to 'A Woman's Vengeance' which merely serves to give the game away from the outset!

We should be grateful at least that the adaptation has not been assigned to some Hollywood hack but has been done by the author himself although the infernal compromises of film have obliged him to deviate from his original.

The suspected wife poisoner has been transformed from the flawed Anglo-Saxon Hutton to the Gallic Maurier of inveterate charmer Charles Boyer and his naive bit of fluff Doris, played by Ann Blythe, is needless to say no longer a Cockney! The character of Janet Spence, described by Huxley as resembling Agrippina 'or perhaps George Robey', is played by Jessica Tandy. All do what they do very well but it is the performance of the superlative Miss Tandy that lingers longest. She depicts frustrated passion and sexual repression as strongly as would have been permitted at the time and is absolutely riveting if a little too attractive.

For filmic purposes the character of Doctor Libbard has been fleshed out considerably by Mr. Huxley and is beautifully played by Cedric Hardwicke. His character not only serves as Maurier's conscience but saves him from the gallows, thereby drastically altering the original ending but that's Hollywood for you.

It is capably directed by Zoltan Korda although one senses that he is more suited to the great outdoors. Noirish touches by cinematographer Russell Metty and a suitably dramatic score by the great Miklos Rozsa.

It was Sir Cedric who said: "God felt sorry for actors so he created Hollywood to give them a place in the sun and a swimming pool. The price they had to pay was to surrender their talent." The same would apply to writers it seems!

When Charles Boyer's wife, Rachel Kempson, dies prematurely, all suspicion falls on him, especially since they had a bad marriage and he was cheating on her with the beautiful, much younger Ann Blyth. He marries Ann shortly after Rachel's death, but their very adorable bliss is cut short when he gets suspected of murder. It's an easy conclusion to come to; after all, he was in Gaslight!

Aldous Huxley, adapting the script from his short story, has written a thoughtful, exciting, romantic drama, while many other films with a similar plot are just written to be a cheap thriller. If you're tired of the same old whodunnit, check out A Woman's Vengeance. There are many thoughtful speeches about life, death, love, and the preciousness of time, that you'll probably remember long after you watch this hidden gem. Cedric Hardwicke plays the family doctor and friend, and while he isn't particularly warm, he's very intelligent and important to the story. Mildred Natwick plays Rachel's nurse, and although she's very upset about her mistress's death, she was hoping to inherit a broach. Jessica Tandy is a neighbor harboring a long-standing crush on Charles, and her spastic, emotional craze is evident even in her earliest scenes. I might be a little picky, since I have a special relationship with A Streetcar Named Desire, but it felt like Jessica was trying to remind everyone of her success as Blanche duBois.

It's difficult to pick one star of this show, because it's a very good movie all-around, but if there is only one, it's Ann Blyth. Incredibly beautiful and adapting herself to a role different than she'd ever played, she's young without being naïve, uncultured without being un-classy, romantic without being stupid, and sensual without being loose. Every one of those characteristics is difficult to pull off, and they're all necessary for the plot of the movie to be meaningful. Charles Boyer is also very good, giving a sensitive performance rather than an over-the-top performance. Watch this movie. It's exciting from start to finish.

Henry Maurier (Boyer) is an arrogant wealthy Englishman married to Emily who is both sickly and shrewish. Doris (Blyth) is his much younger mistress. The Maurier's also have a woman friend named Janet Spence (Tandy) who has always loved Maurier. When Emily is poisoned, suspicion falls on Henry and there is a great deal of circumstantial evidence against him. The script, by Aldous Huxley, is extremely literate and the movie is a pleasure to watch. Courtroom fans will also enjoy the capably executed inquest and trial scenes.

Rachel Kempson is the bedridden, whining wife of rich Charles Boyer. She complains about everything and everyone, and only Mildred Natwick, as her man-hating nurse, seems to sympathize with her. Boyer does what he can in a weary, dutiful manner, but takes pleasure in flirting with next-door neighbor Jessica Tandy on the subject of modern art. He's also got Ann Blyth as an 18-year-old mistress. Then Kempson dies, Boyer marries his pregnant mistress almost immediately, and Miss Natwick insists on an autopsy. It turns out the dead woman was poisoned, and Boyer is on trial for murder.

I thought the first half of this movie was fabulous, with a cast that played it to the hilt, particularly Mildred Natwick, so vilely self-righteous. The problem for me lay in the second half, because I picked out the murderer as soon as the death scene was described, and Hardwicke's pick-pick-picking at the scabs of the other character's souls, beautifully written by Aldous Huxley, and performed though it was, seemed to me long-winded.

That's the problem when you figure out a mystery well before the end, motive, method and opportunity; you spend the time wondering how everyone in the movie (or book) can be so blind. So I spent my time reworking it as a stage play, wondering about the bare minimum of sets. I made it four.