Sombras de tormenta

I was amused while watching this suspenseful film to notice that whole passages of the music used were lifted straight from Warner's great Bette Davis film, "Now Voyager". Since it was a Warner's film I suppose they had the right. I noticed that Max Steiner, the composer from the Davis film, was given no credit for the music that was used in this film. Seems a shame, but I suppose that's Hollywood. Still, this is a good film with a fine cast of stars and familiar character actors. I enjoyed the location photography and the chilled atmosphere of the film is enhanced by the obvious dead of winter scenery. I mainly just wanted to comment on the music, however, it just surprised me to hear such a familiar score used over again in this film.

I can certainly sympathize with those who have commented about the lack of a video release of this title, and their disappointment at its apparent abandonment in the archives of TV broadcasters. I saw it during its initial theatrical release, when some very positive critical notices told me I'd be in for a much-better-than-average viewing experience. Not only was I impressed with its quality but, even though I've never seen it since, I can still quite easily recall several of its key sequences and the excellent performances by everyone in the cast.

After quite a run at Twentieth-Century Fox in a long string of their CinemaScope costumers, Jean Simmons must have truly enjoyed exercising her considerable talents as an actress with the lead role in "Home Before Dark," under the steady hand of Hollywood veteran, Mervyn LeRoy. He was one director who always seemed to get the best out of his casts and had a special gift, it seems to me, of eliciting surprisingly good performances from those lovely ladies, such as Rhonda Fleming in this one, who were usually thought of merely as "glamor girls."

When this film was released I was a relatively new resident of southern California, so its effective use of Boston and other Massachusetts locations, where I'd been born and raised until almost entering my teens, may be the reason that the memory of this film is still quite vivid. Those of us who would like to see a video release might nurture a wisp of hope, what with so many more films now enjoying an entry onto the video catalogues. It's certainly worthy of a place along some of Hollywood's better psychological dramas.

Producer-director Mervyn LeRoy knows how to trail a false scent or two across this story; we receive hints of other films (Gaslight, for example, or almost any Hitchcock) and begin to wonder. Keeping us doubting, and keeping us outside the vulnerable and troubled main character, played superbly by Jean Simmons, we are left in a strange, low-key state of suspense right to the end. Is she mad, is she being manipulated for some nefarious end? Are her family conspirators or just unfeeling? If the latter, who is to blame? We want to rescue this character, we have in the story two likable men who seem to be candidates for white knights. Again, LeRoy manipulates our expectations of a melodramatic plot twist, a catharsis of the sort we have seen in those other films, in which all will be revealed. But, without spoiling the story, this is a different sort of film. Between the first scene and the second to last scene, we are held in a kind of suspended animation, together with the Simmons character. It is only very late in the film, however, that LeRoy lets the scales drop from our eyes.

Some may find the other family members too unsympathetic, early on especially. If there is a weakness in the formula, this is it. For me, the powerful sequence on Christmas Eve in Boston – the shopping jaunt, the party and the confrontation back at the hotel - settles such doubts as exist.

The ledger is more than balanced, in any case, by a good script, fine black and white photography, a convincing portrayal of a hidebound and catty faculty town (politics has nothing on academe), sensitive direction by LeRoy and, especially, Jean Simmons at her considerable best. This film deserves more admirers. It is that quietly spoken guest at the party who, if you spend some time listening, has more to say than the usual cinema windbags.

This cross between 'a women's picture' and a semi-serious study of mental illness isn't as well known as it ought to be. Maybe if it had been made ten or fifteen years earlier it might have been something of a classic since we're firmly in Bette Davis/Miriam Hopkins territory here. Jean Simmons, (wonderful, but then she was always wonderful), is the woman who comes home after a year in a mental hospital. Home is where she lives with hubbie Dan O'Herlihy, step-sister Rhonda Fleming, step-mother Mabel Albertson and handsome lodger Efrem Zimbalist Jr. and it isn't too long before the reason for her initial breakdown becomes all too clear.

At two and a quarter hours it's a little on the long side but director Mervyn LeRoy certainly demonstrates just why he was considered a consumate jobbing director in his handling of old-hat material and all the performances are first-rate, (Simmons was robbed of a Best Actress Oscar nomination), and its small-town New England setting is at least unusual. However, by 1958 this was a very old-fashioned film and no amount of professionalism in front of or behind the camera was going to turn this into box-office gold. A pity, as it's really rather good.

This is a strong drama built entirely on Jean Simmons' outstanding performance as a woman recovering from a breakdown and searching for love and a home, only to find her own strength instead. Director Mervyn LeRoy and novelist/screenwriter Eileen Bassing confidently put the entire burden on Simmons, who appears in nearly every scene, and the actress delivers a character who continually defies and exceeds the expectations of those around her, and the viewer.

We meet Charlotte Bronn as she is returning from a long stay in a mental hospital following a nervous breakdown that included episodes of violence and paranoia. She's shaky and vulnerable and painfully self-aware. But even before she first appears at the end of the long hallway, walking towards the camera and into her new life, those closest to her have already begun to let her down.

We quickly begin to learn the source of her downfall, but Simmons doesn't give us a victim and the film doesn't back away from real mental illness- the portrayal of Charlotte's recovery and gradual tilt towards relapse is surprisingly sharp and modern.

"Home Before Dark" is understated, in an almost documentary style, more smart than clever, but the energy and pacing are crisp enough that the film always seems within one twist of becoming a noir thriller or Hitchcock suspense. Charlotte is desperate for acceptance, her husband's love, and the truth about her marriage, all of which are withheld, and we naturally expect a handsome man- any of several on hand- to step forward and solve her problems, either romantically or as a confidant. The film's value comes from its steady refusal to take those easy paths.

The pathos is tastefully understated but powerful nonetheless- Charlotte says she's not beautiful, she says she knows her husband doesn't love her and that she's not worthy of love- and her husband simply fails to contradict her. The film is, among other things, a relentless study of one spouse failing another.

We root for Charlotte Bronn as she stumbles- her story never does. This is one of Simmons' best.