Home at Seven

A long forgotten British film, that has David Preston ( Ralph Richardson) as a lowly bank clerk, who returns home, as usual, only to be told by his wife, that he has been missing for 24 hours.

He slowly starts to come to terms with what has happened, only to find out that the steward of his local club has been murdered, and that he has been implicated. Margaret Leighton as his wife, and Campbell Singer,as the police inspector give good support. I find these films from 40's and 50's fascinating, as they show a way of life that has long since disappeared.

Ralph Richardson, who both directs and acts in this film, has taken a simple story that depicts a short period in the life of a middle-class couple in post-war England whose routine is suddenly disrupted by the memory lapse of the husband. The story is brought to life by the acting of the three main actors - Richarson and Margaret Leighton as the couple and the medical doctor, Jack Hawkins.

A veteran of World War II (1939-45), the dutiful husband is stricken with an anxiety attack that causes him to relive his days in battle. When this mental episode is over, he cannot remember what happened for a full 24-hour period. Husband and wife are perplexed and anxious by this sudden turn of events. They turn to their understanding family doctor for an explanation. The doctor, Jack Hawkins, is sympathetic and not overly worried but eager to find out the source of the problem.

As it turns out, a theft and murder occurred that seem to implicate the husband or so the couple fears. Lies and cover-ups complicate the matter and the couple become so upset that they make things worse for themselves. The couple are so used to their routine that a sudden and unexplained twist becomes exaggerated. The story presents us with a puzzle and the reaction of two decent but somewhat docile human beings, who feel they will be unfairly targeted by the authorities. However, the police go about their work very calmly and before long everything is explained.

The movie is a throwback to a time when ordinary people enjoyed simple pleasures like going to their club, or taking in the "pictures" and growing their chrysanthemums in the adjoining greenhouse garden...so very British.

It is these very ordinary people that I have a great sympathy and admiration for in our often self-serving world. Nothing extraordinary about the movie or the couple but almost 60 years on, the acting still makes it a delight to watch.

It's not uncommon for actors to direct themselves in films but many do it only once, perhaps because they believe in a project, either as vehicle for themselves or just as a vehicle worth bringing to the screen. In 1952 Ralph Richardson felt the need to direct a film of R. C. Sherriff's play "Home at Seven" casting himself as the bank clerk who has a 24 hour memory lapse and then finds himself inplicated in a murder.

It's a good plot and if Richardson handles it in a somewhat theatrical fashion he, at least, draws first-rate performances from his cast while he is outstanding as the clerk. After Olivier, I've always felt Richardson was the finest of the theatrical knights to make it in the movies and he doesn't disappoint here. It's a wonderful performance and Margaret Leighton and Jack Hawkins are just as good as his fretting wife and the doctor who tries to help him. The plot itself may be a little far-fetched but the treatment is excellent making this one of the best and certainly one of the most underrated British films of the period.

Though this movie ought to be mainly credited to Ralph Richardson as actor and director, his contribution is totally overshadowed by the performances of the late Margaret Leighton and the late Jack Hawkins.

Ms Leighton, playing the loving wife, is eye candy and exhibits her talent for acting (contrast her negative roles in Ford's "The 7 Women" and Hitchcock's "Under Capricorn" and the wonderful, unusual role in Forbes' "The Madwoman of Chaillot".) Mr Hawkins is equally wonderful to watch.

Otherwise as a film, it is average entertainment--a film on post-war PTSD made decades before the disorder came into the limelight.

Very slow to gain momentum, but once it does it chugs along at an acceptable pace. Richardson may be an impeccable Shakespearean actor, but on the big screen he is far less convincing. Leighton excels as the dutiful wife who will do anything for her suffering husband. Of course we laugh at those traits in this modern age of feminism, but what a comfort dutiful wives must have been for men of that era. The plot is very predictable and somewhat rigid given the base cause: (amnesia), but it is handled very well by the direction of Richardson that you could be excused for mistaking it for a Hitchcock movie. All in all, an enjoyable film.