Yield to the Night

In the best tradition of black and white, this film starts with a bang. After a pair of shapely legs get out of a classic 56 T-Bird in England somewhere, a gun shot is fired, without ever seeing who did it. The idea of making an anti- capital punishment movie in the mid-fifties right after the McCarthy era was ahead of it's time. Never preachy or blatantly left winged, this great unknown sleeper carries on the classic female incarcerated films of THE SNAKE PIT to the era of fins. Even the female prison guards show compassion, and the movie never uses bitch-slapping gimmicks for thrill effects. A quiet study that still touches the heart. Diana Dors shines in a smart role choice that added to her credits away from her necessary frothy pointed bra-B flicks. No wonder people loved her right up to her death.

I came to this film with pretty superficial view of Diana Dors. I couldn't have been more wrong. She gives a career best performance. On so many levels it stands head and shoulders above mid 50s Brit cinema. Truly international standard. Great ensemble acting; strong direction; and some lovely cinematography. It was clearly a powerful piece in its time - dramatically as well as a piece of social agitprop. It's still worthy of your attention more than 60 years on. What a shame this part didn't lead to the acting opportunities Diana deserved.

'Yield to the Night'is a child of its time, the mid fifties. Set against the grim background of the condemned cell in what is presumed to be Holloway prison (the only hanging prison for women at that time),it is a strong statement against capital punishment in general, and for a condemned woman, in particular. By 1956, popular opinion in Britain had turned against the death penalty, fuelled by a series of unpopular executions, Derek Bentley, the educationally subnormal youth hanged in 1953 for the shooting of a policeman on a Croydon factory rooftop when his seventeen year old accomplice, Chris Craig, had fired the fatal shot (Craig was too young to hang); the executions of two women in quick succession, Louisa Merrifield and Stylou Christofi, and the cause celebre of Ruth Ellis, who shot her lover, David Blakely, outside a North London public house.

Obviously Ellis was the inspiration for Dors' character, Mary Hilton (both blondes, both shoot their lovers while emotionally distraught). Director J. Lee Thompson had worked with Diana Dors in the 1954 film 'The Weak and the Wicked', which, like 'Yield to the Night', was based on a book by Joan Henry. Times had changed, even during those two intervening years, and Thompson yearned for a broader, more hard hitting statement than his earlier offering. The action scenes are much pacier, with quick scene changes and remarkable (for its day) camera angles - the shots of Dors around a fountain amount to a cinematic work of art, and the murder itself is a tour de force of close ups, almost unbearable suspense and facial expressions (note the face of the uncredited cab driver when he realises what Mary has done).

We skip the trial to the first prison scene where the governor, played to perfection by that most authoritative of actresses, Marie Ney, informs Mary that her appeal had been denied. Geoffrey Keen, as a thoughtful chaplain, leaves the cell when Mary's lawyer appears, played by the veteran Charles Lloyd Pack, with an optimism that borders on insouciance. Mary settles into the daily routine, comforted by Liam Redmond, as the caring doctor. Flashbacks trace Mary's failed romance with Jim, a once ambitious pianist whose inner emotions are in turmoil, who is reduced to playing in nightclubs and acting as a third rate host, dancing with various women, including Mary's nemesis, the well heeled Lucy. Mary is besotted with him, but he is fatally attracted to Lucy, fuelling Mary's inveterate hatred for her. Jim commits suicide, leaving a note that is addressed to Lucy, pushing Mary over the edge. The flashbacks are not as convincing as the rest of the film, but perhaps that is due to their nature - we already know that Mary has shot Lucy, so the lead up to that cataclysmic situation is somehow diluted.

However, the prison scenes more than make up for that. The set is so incredibly realistic, down to the 'door with no handle', the door through which Mary will step, on execution morning. As the clock ticks down to that fateful day, some of the finest character actresses of the day shine through the gloom - Joan Miller, whose calm exterior finally cracks when Mary's reprieve is denied, and who entwines the shell-shocked Mary's fingers around a welcome mug of tea; prolific character actress Marianne Stone, as the flustered stand in wardress; the fearsome Olga Lindo, magnificent as veteran Warder Hill, whose granite exterior finally succumbs to pity as she strokes Mary's hair, a wonderfully touching nuance of direction which would not have been possible in 'The Weak and the Wicked'. Athene Seyler, who was also in 'The Weak and the Wicked' appears as a philanthropic 'prison visitor' who gives Mary flowers from her garden. However, the performance of Yvonne Mitchell, as the caring, Christian wardress, who offers Mary a blindfold to help her sleep (much to the chagrin of Hill), is towering in its tenderness and vulnerability, even getting away with the line: 'Have you ever thought that we ALL die, some morning'? (My own mother died at 7:45 pm!) Amazingly, the line works because of the well drawn relationship between the two.

The ending is dramatic - Mary is kneeling in the chapel with the chaplain while the hangman and his assistant are watching from behind an open door - we only see their hands, the hands which will put her to death, another triumph of creative direction and camera work. On the morning of the fateful day Mary leaves her partly smoked cigarette in the ash tray and her silhouette is seen from the front, arriving through THAT door, with the chaplain behind her, a detail that was incorrect, because the assistant executioner would be behind her, having tied her hands behind her back - in 1956 the secrets of capital punishment were still closely guarded, and would not be made public until the autobiography of chief hangman Albert Pierrepoint (1977) and his one time assistant, Syd Dernley in the late eighties.

Dors showed that she really could act, and that the British film industry was capable of producing work of realism and depth, a much better film than Susan Hayward's much vaunted film about Ruth Ellis's American equivalent, Barbara Graham, 'I want to live'! And the message? A life for a life is futile, and life should be for living. Yield to this fifties gem of true excellence.

Mesmerizing from beginning to end. Black and white photography, impeccable, giving you the feeling of the scene just by placing the camera in a position that exactly will tell you before hand what's coming. Amazing.

And then there is the actress.

She, unlike ANY actress of that period, appears most of the time with her face washed up and her hair with 4 inches of black roots, totally unconcerned with her looks for the camera, but she is ACTING. She is acting a storm, what an excellent actress!!

In the flash backs the actress becomes DIANA DORS... Fully done with platinum hair, made up to kill and slipped into a dress too tight to believe, it could be painted on her naked body.

The story takes its time to develop and little by little it starts building up the tension of her character. The timing is perfect, we get more and more involved with her suffering and waiting as anxiously as herself about her destiny.

I don't have words to tell you what a superb movie this is, a film that I think will be impossible to produce nowadays, maybe Charlize Theron came close to this type of character in "Monster", but the feeling of the movie is totally different, the results of the 50s are the results of a civilization gone with the wind.

To me, this movie is a masterpiece.

The name Diana Dors conjours up a sex symbol, Britain's answer to Marilyn Monroe. She was so much more than that, but because of her image, her best performances were ignored by critics.

Based on the Ruth Ellis case, Dors plays Mary Hilton. In the first scene, we see her, during the daytime with people around, deliberately empty a gun into the body of of a woman. We next see her in a death row prison - deglamorized, guarded by matrons, in a room with a door without a handle, leading to where she will be executed.

According to what I've read, there had been a series of controversial hangings by the time this film was made. This film has the character hoping for a reprieve from the governor.

Mary looks back on the events leading up to the murder. Married, she falls in love with someone else, a pianist at a club, Jim (Michael Craig). She becomes obsessed with, to the point where she leaves her husband.

So entrenched in her love for Jim and devotion to him, she fails to see that Jim isn't as in love as she is. In fact, he becomes obsessed with a wealthy woman, Lucy. It's a destructive, up and down relationship, as is Mary's with Jim, but she lets him come crying to her when Louise rejects him.

Jim finally is driven to commit suicide and leaves a letter for Lucy. When Mary realizes the letter isn't for her, she snaps.

While in prison, Mary has a daily routine. The matrons take her for a walk daily, and it's obvious that they become fond of her, one giving her a cloth to cover her eyes while she sleeps, as the light is always on. She has to eat with a spoon, and when she bathes, a matron cuts her nails. She has a few visitors, none of whom she really wants to see - her ex-husband, her mother, and her brother.

Mary also meets with the chaplain, and finally, a lovely woman (Athene Seyler), sort of a volunteer prison visitor, who brings Mary flowers, gives her some comfort, and tries to get Mary to accept what she's done and what is about to happen.

The matrons give wonderful performances - Joan Miller, Marianne Stone, Olga Lindo, who plays the warden, and Yvonne Mitchell, all of whom have developed a relationship with Mary and dread the last day as much as she does.

Dors gives a subtly powerful performance, soft, sympathetic, quietly anxious in prison, and desperate in her scenes with Jim. We see her gorgeous and glamorous and in prison garb, her hair darkened with roots showing.

This isn't the first time Dors played a role where she is in prison. She also wound up there in "The Unholy Wife." She demonstrated then, as in this film, that she was a good dramatic actress. The film's alternate title is "The Blond Sinner," and the posters don't really suggest the story.

Well directed by J. Lee Thompson, Yield to the Night is an excellent film with a performance that deserved much more attention.