Le mangeur de citrouilles

I've never seen a film with so many great talents giving technically good performances with a script that offers virtually no insight into the characters or their motivations.

Jo Armitage (Anne Bancroft) seems to be losing it while her husband Jake (Peter Finch) is unable or unwilling to help. In flashbacks, Jake is shown to be her third husband after having several children. She continues to have children with Jake. Jake sends Jo to a psychiatrist. He suggests that Jo wants to sanctifies sex by reproducing. While Jake is a good provider, she suspects him of improprieties. After getting pregnant, the psychiatrist and Jake suggest getting an abortion and sterilization. After the operation, things are going great and then Bob Conway (James Mason) brings evidence that Jake is cheating with his wife.

The title refers to the nursery rhyme Peter Peter Pumpkin Eater. Jo is a perplexing character. She is struggling but she is not crazy. It is an interesting character but I am of two minds about it. It allows Bancroft to do some good acting but it is also hard to fully invest in her. There is an attempt at surrealism with the cigarette smoke going backwards. Maybe more of that surrealism would allow the audience to feel her troubled mind.

The Pumpkin Eater, which for many years was my favorite movie, is a neglected masterpiece of the British New Wave. I'm not sure whether its lack of recognition is attributable more to its misanthropic point of view or to Jack Clayton's sparse filmography (he never developed the immediately recognizable personal style required for elevation to the auteur pantheon). It didn't help that initial reviewers badly misunderstood the film -- Dwight Macdonald thought it was a typical "women's film", meant to provide erotic titillation! On the other hand, feminist critics probably weren't eager to defend a film that could be interpreted as anti-abortion propaganda (also a misreading). Perhaps a more mature feminism will reclaim this film.

Admittedly, the movie is difficult to understand on a first viewing -- both because of its intricate flashback structure and its complexities of tone and attitude. It took me several viewings to fully sort out the plot, and several more to realize what I was actually seeing -- a very, very black comedy. In this respect it's worth placing with the darkest works of Evelyn Waugh or Henry Green.

The film catches its participants at the top of their form: Pinter never wrote a better screenplay, Anne Bancroft (arguably) never gave a better performance, Peter Finch certainly didn't, and Maggie Smith and James Mason are deliciously evil in supporting roles. There are too many marvelous moments to list them all, but watch especially for the zoo scene between Bancroft and Mason (who are clearly having a great time) and for the slyly-written scene where Finch learns that his wife is pregnant -- again.

So why is it no longer my favorite movie? My admiration for its technique is unabated, but as I get older I find the film's nasty tone harder and harder to take. There's not an admirable human being in the whole movie -- they're all foolish, duplicitous, or vindictive. I can't live with these people, much as I've enjoyed eavesdropping on them over the years.

Great movies remain great movies some of them, like "The Pumpkin Eater" acquire an extra something with the passing of time. Harold Pinter does really extravagant things with Penelope Mortimer's novel and the extraordinary Jack Clayton gives it just the right mixture of human drama and sharp satire. Anne Bancroft is indescribable moving, beautiful, powerful, frightening. Peter Finch is also superb as is James Mason. I particularly enjoyed the brief moments with Yootha Joyce, Maggie Smith and Cederic Hardwicke. I advise all movie lovers in the Los Angeles area to check the American Cinematheque listings. I saw "The Pumpkin Eater" there, a beautifully restored print and reminded me when one went to the movies to see adult themes treated by intelligent adult artist with enormous regard for their audiences. Oh, those were the days.

This is my absolute favorite film of all time, and Anne Bancroft's performance is her best. Made in 1964 and set in London, this film tells the story of a woman who is in the middle of her third marriage, to a screenwriter, played by Peter Finch. Her character, Jo Armitage, is a woman who truly seems to find her self-worth and happiness only when she is pregnant and raising children. Once her children become even only slightly older, she seems to lose her sense of purpose, and allows herself to become quite isolated in the world. Her current husband, the screenwriter, doesn't make matters any better for her either.

This is definitely Anne Bancroft's film all the way, and she is breathtakingly beautiful in it as well. Her portrayal of Jo Armitage paints a very lonely, depressed, lost, and in many ways pathetic character...but it is also strangely my favorite performance of Bancroft. Look also for wonderful supporting performances by James Mason and Maggie Smith. This film weaves a disturbing yet very realistic portrait of a bad marriage (some might just say "marriage"), and it should be studied for its acting and its writing. In addition, Georges Delerue's musical score is superb, and I am always searching for the film's soundtrack, but have had no luck. Thanks to beautiful art direction by Edward Marshall, their home interior is also gorgeous...'60's chic. I've seen this film at least 60 times, and never tire of it. It's a quiet little masterpiece.