High Wall

Robert Taylor is Steven Kenet, accused of killing his unfaithful wife in "High Wall," a 1947 film noir also starring Audrey Totter and Herbert Marshall. In our first glimpse of Steve, he's in a car with a dead woman careening down the road to get rid of her. The problem is, due to a brain injury suffered during the war, he can't remember what happened. He is institutionalized for psychiatric evaluation to see if he can stand trial as a sane person. Audrey Totter is Ann, the psychiatrist who takes in Steve's small son as well as works with her patient to try and uncover the truth. Herbert Marshall plays his dead wife's boss.

After World War II, Hollywood began to explore mental and emotional disorders and the use of psychiatry to unlock the traumas of the mind. "Possessed," "Spellbound," and "The Snake Pit" are just a few of the dozens of films employing the use of psychiatry, mental hospitals, and/or psychotropic drugs. In "High Wall," the psychiatry seems to be more of a plot device than something that is actually used to help the patient. It's there to provide flashbacks. Meanwhile, the Taylor character, once he has surgery, has a mind of his own and is constantly slipping out or in the psychiatrist's office window, hiding in her car, and visiting the scene of the crime. The biggest problem is that the character of the murder victim is never developed, and the reasons for her behavior are never made clear. Nevertheless, the film manages to hold one's interest, has a great atmosphere and a couple of really shocking moments. There are also some very funny bits throughout, including a scene where Steve meets the public defender.

This is one of Robert Taylor's best performances. After "Johnny Eager," one of Hollywood's biggest heartthrobs began to play more complex roles and more bad guys. It was a good move; he played them very well. He doesn't get much support from Audrey Totter, who turns in a dull, somewhat cold performance in an attempt to be a professional woman. She doesn't give the role a lot of shading. Herbert Marshall seems somewhat miscast and is too lethargic for a role that requires some emotional range.

Very watchable for handsome Taylor's excellent performance.

I am surprised that this film was never given its due credit for its strengths while its weaknesses have been highlighted.

It is obvious to a casual viewer that the performance of Robert Taylor is superior to most of his other films that exploited his physical attributes more than his innate talent. Taylor would have been a good material for intelligent directors but unfortunately few worked with him. Director Curtis Bernhardt, with European experience behind him, utilized the range of emotions that he could extract from Taylor and the usually "wooden" Taylor emerges as an intelligent, purposeful individual.

The obvious weaknesses is the science of psychotherapy, brain surgery and truth serums that are presented in the film, which we now know are antiquated and incorrect. Bernhardt has been criticized for his apathetic depiction of mental asylums in the film. All of this is correct but what would you do in the Forties if that is what you knew of the subject at that time.

Director Bernhardt to me is the person to be most admired in this movie, not actor Taylor. Take the sequence of the visit of the asylum staff to the house of the mother of the lead male character. You see the milk bottles and the newspapers outside the door. You have no response to the doorbell. Then you see a child peeking from behind the curtains and meekly opening the door. No word is spoken. The dead mothers feet are shown to us. Cut to another sequence. That is great cinema--good understanding of psychology, and deliberate underplaying of emotions by merely using visuals and editing the shots without resorting to emotional dialog.

The second most interesting facet of the film is the script. The rain used in the film (couldn't have been from the original play) adds so much to the atmosphere of the film. The sequences in the restaurants and bars, however short, are highlights of the strong script.

The editing, antiquated as it looks nearly 60 years after the film was made, is noteworthy for its crispness and relevance. The camera-work, exploiting shadows on frosted glasses and dark alleys, is equally remarkable.

Curtis Bernhardt could have been proud of this work despite its weakness for researching the subject inadequately. Handsome Taylor can be credited with a handful of good performances and strangely all of those performances had him playing anti-heroes. This is is one of those few.

The excellent German director Curtis Bernhardt made this powerful, brooding noir film complete with some expressionist lighting effects in the aftermath of the War. In it he expressed as well as anyone the trauma of the brain-injured returning war veterans, whose presence haunted America in the late 1940s. Robert Taylor gives a fine performance as a former colonel whose brain injury has returned, giving him headaches, partial amnesia, and violent mood swings. In this state, he returns home to find that his wife, a war bride, has become the mistress of a creepy religious publisher played to perfection with his most urbane and fastidious menace by Herbert Marshall. He falls into a rage and may or may not have strangled his straying wife. He wakes up, having collapsed, and confesses to the police. He is tormented by the death of his mother from the strain and the psychologically traumatised state of his son. He needs an emergency brain operation, and then is confined to an insane asylum for examination before being put on trial for murder. At the asylum, there is a touching portrayal of a pathetic inmate named Mr. Slocombe by H. B. Warner, the English actor who became one of Hollywood's best character actors and here surpasses himself. Into this mix comes the incomparable Audrey Totter, who added distinction to every film she was in. Here she is allowed to be a good girl rather than a bad girl. Anyone who has seen her work of two years later, 'Tension' (1949), knows she was capable of frying the audience with the passion of her acting. She plays a psychiatrist, with crisp efficient movements and a studied matter-of-factness which conceals her underlying passions. There is a wonderful uncredited cameo by Frank Jenks as a character named Pinky, who plays a character with a pivotal role in the inspired script. Will the truth be known? Can the hero be saved from someone's evil scheming? This is one of the more harrowing and nail-biting of such dramas. It is sophisticated and satisfying, and highly to be recommended. 'They don't make 'em like that any more.'

After a lonely drink (in a beautiful black-and-white barroom), religious book publisher Herbert Marshall (as Willard Whitcombe) goes to his office and inquires about pretty secretary Dorothy Patrick (as Helen). He is told her husband, World War II bomber pilot Robert Taylor (as Steven Kenet), has returned to the USA from Burma. Next, we see Mr. Taylor driving his apparently dead wife off the road, toppling their car. It turns out the beautiful blonde was strangled and Taylor is suffering from post-War stress and a brain injury. Taylor has a blood clot on the brain, causing some theatrical hands-on-his-headaches. Although he doesn't recall killing his wife, Taylor confesses and is committed to a psychiatric hospital. Attractive (and single) psychiatrist Audrey Totter (as Ann Lorrison) is assigned Taylor's case. She wonders if he's aiming to get off on "temporary insanity" – or, perhaps the (handsome) widower is innocent...

As of this writing, we are in an era where many filmmakers consider the "shaky camera" technique (called "hand held camera" by insiders) a high form of cinematic art. If you're dizzy after watching one of these wobbly movies, "High Wall" is a perfect antidote...

Cinematographer Paul Vogel's eloquence camera movements begin swirling through the opening bar scene, and are marvelous throughout. Guided skillfully by director Curtis Bernhardt, the camera helps tell us about the characters, and moves the story. Producer Robert Lord's team also know when to stop, as in the extra second we are given to read the words on the door of Mr. Marshall's office. Marshall gets one of the film's highlights – watch how he handles handyman Vince Barnett (Henry Cronner) with the hook of an umbrella. Marshall is worthy of a "Best Supporting Actor" award. It's also nice to see veteran H.B. Warner as a loony mental patient. The romance is routine and ending questionable, but "High Wall" is well worth scaling.

******* High Wall (12/17/47) Curtis Bernhardt ~ Robert Taylor, Audrey Totter, Herbert Marshall, Vince Barnett

High Wall is directed by Curtis Bernhardt and adapted to screenplay by Sydney Boehm and Lester Cole from the play by Alan R. Clark and Bradbury Foote. It stars Robert Taylor, Audrey Totter, Herbert Marshall, Dorothy Patrick and H.B. Warner. Music is by Bronislau Kaper and cinematography by Paul Vogel.

Suffering from a brain injury sustained during the war, Steven Kenet (Taylor) is further rocked by the realisation that he may have strangled his wife during one of his blackout episodes. Committed to a county asylum, Steven responds to treatment by Dr. Ann Lorrison (Totter) and comes to believe he just might be innocent of his wife's murder. But can he convince the authorities? Can he in fact get out of the asylum to find proof?

By 1947 film noir had firmly encompassed the plot strand involving returning veterans from the war. Plot would find them struggling to readjust into society, they would be battle scarred, emotionally torn or suffering some form of injury, such as a popular favourite of film makers of the time, the amnesia sufferer. High Wall is one of the better pictures from the original film noir cycle to deal with this premise. Where except for a daft method used to bring the story to its conclusion, it's a well thought out and intelligent picture.

The pairing of Taylor and Totter is one of the film's strengths, they are helped no end by having parts that requires them to veer away from roles that they were accustomed to. Bernhardt and Vogel dress the picture up superbly, the camera glides eerily around the asylum, throwing impressive shadows across the drama, and the camera technique used for Kenet's flashback sequences proves mood magnificent. Out of the asylum the visuals still remain beautiful whilst still exuding a bleakness befitting the unfolding story, with rain drenched streets the order of the night. While Kaper drifts a suitably haunting musical score across proceedings.

It's unhurried and cares about attention to details, and even though some of the ethics involved in story are dubious, this is a smart entry in the psychological film noir canon. 7.5/10