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In a beautiful and serene park setting, disheveled Olivia de Havilland (as Virginia Stuart) sits on a bench talking to herself. As it turns out, she is a 24-year-old mental patient. Believing she is in a prison, Ms. De Havilland does not recognize loving husband Mark Stevens (as Robert Cunningham). In a flashback, he begins to tell de Havilland's story. Later, she is able to elaborate events for kindly doctor Leo Genn (as Mark Kik). Unhappy events from de Havilland's childhood could provide a clue to the origin of her mental problems and put her on the road to recovery...

This film was considered shocking for revealing the despicable conditions mental patients suffered in institutions. There is a prison-like environment and the soundtrack music horrifically pounds while de Havilland receives electro-shock treatment. Other than that, the conditions are relatively good. De Havilland receives excellent care from "Doctor Kik" and the facility is spacious and well-maintained. The staff is commendable but for exacting nurse Helen Craig (as Miss Davis), who delivers exceptionally in one of the film's many small supporting roles. There are dozens of others...

If extras could still participate in "Academy Award" voting, Anatole Litvak's "The Snake Pit" might have won more than one of its six nominations. Still, de Havilland's remarkable work won her several of filmdom's most respected 1948 "Best Actress" honors, including the "New York Film Critics" and "National Board of Review" awards. Generally remembered for lighter, more secondary roles in the 1930s, de Havilland would follow-up with a most stunning performance in "The Heiress" (1949). Her acting in the 1940s made de Havilland one of the decade's finest dramatic actresses.

******** The Snake Pit (11/4/48) Anatole Litvak ~ Olivia de Havilland, Mark Stevens, Leo Genn, Helen Craig

Considered brutal and scary in the day of its initial release, "The Snake Pit" was a ground-breaking film with its look into the horrors of a mental institution. Giving the film its vibrancy and life is the elegant Olivia De Havilland. This fine actress goes to town in this fascinating portrait of a young woman, Virginia Stuart, who, soon after marriage to the handsome Robert Cunningham (Mark Stevens) , descends into a world of paranoia and insanity. He takes her to an institution, but conditions there are foreign to Virginia. This Hollywoodization of life in a mental hospital, though tame compared to reality, still packs a punch. We follow this delusional woman as she tries to come to grips with where she is, falls in love with her kind-hearted doctor, Mark Kirk (Leo Genn), befriends other patients, and tries to hide out in the hospital. Celeste Holm has a minor, but welcome role as Grace, a fellow patient who takes a liking to and protects the confused Virginia.

What a score for the lovely De Havilland! She really gets to show her stuff in this emotional role, and got an Oscar-nomination for her efforts. And kudos to director Anatole Litvak for a wonderful, but hard-to-take visit into a woman's not-all-there mind and her institutionalized world.

Touted as the first film explicitly recounting a patient's baptism of fire in a mental institution, THE SNAKE PIT, directed by Anatole Litvak and starring a doughty Olivia de Havilland (102-year-old-young as of today) as our protagonist Virginia Cunningham, still pluckily holds court after seven decades have elapsed.

Litvak's opening swiftly plunges audience together with Virginia in her wandering mental state in medias res, a woman discernibly suffers from amnesia and dogged by hallucination (the voice in her head), has no inking of her whereabouts and the impending revelation of being locked up inside a psychiatric hospital for women shocks her to the core and simultaneously piques our curiosity, what is wrong with her?

The puzzle will be solved by a meandering but ultimately satisfying and commendably less lurid approach, through the intermittent flashback fragments, first from Robert (Stevens, a carbon copy of Dennis Morgan, the star in Sam Woods's KITTY FOYLE, 1940), her clueless but all-too-understanding foil hubby, and in time, by way of the radical therapies at the behest of Dr. Kik (Genn, exceptionally transmits a clinical yet personable poker-faced sensibility), through Virginia's own endeavor, which accumulatively dredges up her subconsciously suppressed memories, and traces the root of her condition in her Electra complex at a very young age and ensuing guilt germinates after the death of her father and another father figure.

The script conscientiously shirks any shocking-value manipulation, and patiently unfolds Virginia's tale-of-woe with a limpid sense of scientific correctness (electro-shock therapy, hypnotherapy, hydrotherapy and straitjacket, the whole package is here) and a winning consideration toward our heroine, whose taxing waxing-and-waning battle (the lowest point is to being thrown into the titular snake pit, a place for those who are beyond help, with an added figurative signification of the extreme means subjected to them, to treat insanity with insane action) against schizophrenia earns the auspicious ending over the long haul fair and square.

The story's positive overlook on Virginia's recuperation doesn't necessarily overshadow Litvak's unsparing depiction of an overpopulated institution, regulated by its own echelons and bureaucracy, yet, in presenting the often vilified hospital staff, he maintains a perspicacious mind, there are good apples and bad apples, but mostly they are just trying to do their overloaded job and occasionally are afflicted by career fatigue, even the most callous one, nurse Davis (quite a scene-stealer Helen Craig), turns out to be driven more by her self-seeking consciousness than sadistic vileness. Time and again, the film proves that each head case is an entrancing thespian per se (great cameos from Celeste Holm, Beulah Bondi, Lee Patrick, Betsy Blair and then some), but a striking vibe of sororal unity points up Litvak and co.'s humane disposition that overpowers any attempt of caricature or exploitation.

A de-glamorized de Havilland pours herself all on her character, brilliantly alternates between Virginia's manifold frames-of-mind, running the gamut from intense distress to heart-felt compassion, and makes the movie a compulsive viewing even just for the sake of her performance alone, whereas in those quieter moments, she can also make her marks in imparting Virginia's transient displacement with nuances and bonafides, a sterling showcase for her acting chops, and a compelling case study that doesn't relinquish its rapier-like perception for the sake of dramatization, more importantly and edifyingly, THE SNAKE PIT alerts us that it is not that rare for a person to go off the trolley, damage might have be done from the very start.

Hollywood in the forties was not exactly ready to deal with subjects such as the one depicted in "The Snake Pit". It must have taken a lot of courage to get this project started since it dealt with a serious problem of mental illness, something not mentioned in good company, let alone in a film that took the viewer into the despair the protagonist is experiencing.

Anatole Litvak, the director, got a tremendous performance from its star Olivia de Havilland. If there was anyone to portrait Virginia Stuart Cunningham, Ms. de Havilland was the right choice for it. The actress is the main reason for watching the movie, even after all these years.

The director was responsible for the realistic way in which this drama plays on screen. The scenes in the asylum are heart wrenching, especially the electro shock treatments Virginia undergoes. At the end, the kind Dr. Kik discovers a deeply rooted problem in Virginia's mind that was the cause for what she was experiencing.

Leo Genn is the other notable presence in the film playing Dr. Kik. He makes the best out of his role and plays well against the sickly woman he has taken an interest in helping. Mark Stevens is seen as Virginia's husband, the man that stood by his wife all the time. In smaller roles we see Lee Patrick, Natalie Schafer, Leif Erickson and Celeste Holm, and Betsy Blair.

"The Snake Pit" is a document about mental illness treated with frankness by Anatole Litvak and his team.

The Snake Pit is directed by Anatole Litvak and adapted to screenplay by Frank Partos, Millen Brand and Arthur Laurents from the novel written by Mary Jane Ward. It stars Olivia de Havilland, Mark Stevens, Leo Genn, Celeste Holm, Glenn Langan, Helen Craig, Leif Erickson and Beulah Bondi. Music is by Alfred Newman and cinematography by Leo Tover.

Olivia de Havilland plays Virginia Stuart Cunningham, and film chronicles Virgina's time and treatment in the Juniper Hill Mental Institution.

"It was strange, here I was among all those people, and at the same time I felt as if I were looking at them from some place far away, the whole place seemed to me like a deep hole and the people down in it like strange animals, like... like snakes, and I've been thrown into it... yes... as though... as though I were in a snake pit..."

It's still today one of the most potent and important screen explorations of mental illness and its treatment. Backed by an astonishing performance by de Havilland, Litvak and an initially sceptical Darryl F. Zanuck (20th Century Fox supremo), led the way in bringing to the masses the subject and to treat it with stark realism. Quite often it's harrowing as entertainment, with Virgina's fractured mind laid bare under duress of treatments now seen as antiquated.

It's true enough to say that some of the story features simplistic motives and means, these come as a product of the time the picture was made. But with Litvak (Sorry, Wrong Number) and his principal crew members researching the subject thoroughly, the end result is an incredible blend of dramatic heartfelt suspense and rays of humanistic hope. As Virginia weaves her way through this maze of psychological discord, with flashbacks constantly adding layers to the character's make up, Litvak presents a fascinating portrait of asylum life and the people who resided there, both as patients and staff.

Some scenes are brilliantly crafted, either as visual expansions of the story or as shards of light in a dark world. One sequence sees Litvak track "dancing" silhouettes on a wall, and to then do a pull away shot upwards to reveal Virginia in the snake pit, the impact is stark in its magnificence. Another sequence takes place at a dance for the patients, where a rendition of Antonín Dvorák's "Goin' Home" turns into something quite beautiful, a unison of profound optimism that strikes the heart like the calm after a storm.

Leo Tover's (The Day The Earth Stood Still) crisp black and white photography is perfectly in sync with the material, and Newman's (Wuthering Heights) magnificent score bounces around the institution like a spectral observer. With de Havilland doing her tour de force, it could be easy to forget the great work of Genn and Stevens, the former is a bastion of assured calmness as Dr. Mark Kik, the latter as Virgina's husband Robert underplays it to perfection and he gives us a character to root for wholesale.

It has to be viewed in the context of the era it was made, but its influence on future movies and awareness of mental health treatments in the real world should not be understated. A brilliant production that demands to be seen. 9/10