The Strange Woman

An 1820's vixen climbs her way maliciously up the social ladder.

The movie's got the gloss and the casting of a top studio production, maybe TCF. But it's not. Instead, the film is an independent production with Lamarr as a co-producer. I mention this because the result looks tailor-made for a Lamarr career move; at the same time, she does manage to prove she's more than just Hollywood's perfect face. Here, her conniving little vixen (Jenny) transits a number of emotional stages and male victims in fairly convincing style. However, unless I missed something, Jenny's inner guile fails to show up in any of the many close-ups. As a result, Jenny's deceit remains mainly in the script—the one performance flaw.

The movie itself is an atmospheric potboiler, thanks to stylist Edgar Ulmer and art director Remisoff. The scenes may remain stage-bound, but the overall effect is compelling, a triumph of b&w expressiveness. Note too how the scenes get steadily darker as the film progresses and Jenny gets closer to the expected reckoning. Even when the screenplay meanders, which does slow things down, the visuals remain smoothly engaging. Then too, the logging camp setting should have been rethought. The sophisticated Sanders is simply not an outdoor type. Still, wonder of wonders, two of cinema's favorite cerebral baddies, Sanders and Brooke, get sympathetic roles, for a change. Actually, I expected Sanders to break into a cynical sneer at any moment, and maybe Brooke to revert to type with an icy glare. Anyway, it is an interesting cast, down to Hayward as the weakling Ephraim and little Jo Ann Marlowe as the meanest girl since Patty McCormack's Bad Seed (1956).

I don't know if the film resulted in the kind of career break Lamarr was likely looking for, but it remains an entertaining morality tale, despite a spotty script and stage-bound settings.

For a generation hooked on special effects, and mostly shoddy updates of very old film cliches, 'Strange Woman' must seem like a very dated movie. Of course, that largely depends on generational film tastes. A good story; good if sometimes uneven performances, and of course Hedy Lamarr; one of Hollywood's best kept secrets. Poor Hedy usually got the short end of the stick, as most of the critical acclaim went to very over-rated actresses, who were not nearly as beautiful as Hedy. Critics could never get past her phenomenal beauty, and more often rewarded Bergman, Turner, Davis, and Crawford, because they looked like ordinary everyday people. Oh! the simple minded, one-dimensional critics who imposed their bland tastes on a public, that just craved good entertainment. Hedy as Jenny Hager represents a daring stretch for Hedy; and she delivers a somewhat hammy, but nevertheless engaging performance. George Sanders is excellent as usual, in one of his lesser roles, and the cinematography is first rate. This is a melodramatic melodrama folks! It represents a bygone era in movie-making; when movies were made to entertain, sometimes most effectively in black and white, very often with modest budgets, and without mindboggling effects, extremely loud soundtracks. This movie deserves a 7/10.

In the era of psychoanalysis we are forced to look at a figure like the one in this film in a different way. There was a time when villains were at the melodramatic best and we could see them as one dimensional. This young woman is the product alcoholism and manipulation. She has good and she has bad. The bad usually wins out, but then she withdraws into herself, trying to be an ideal. Her relationships with men are certainly influenced by the abusive father from whom she must escape. She toys with men like playthings. She is extraordinarily beautiful. I hadn't ever really seen a Hedy Lamarr film. She about as striking as one can be. It seems that in this era dark haired women were often cast as vixens. She has that role but overcomes it with an excellent performance. It is a nice period piece. It is a little predictable at times, but the wonderful cinematography really pulls it along.

An obscure film which, because of surprising creative touches in directing, acting and editing, should be shown more often: more than a potboiler, more than a "women's picture" that did not happen to star Bette Davis or Joan Crawford, it offers an engaging story, characters of substance and - except for a convenient and contrived ending - an honest portrayal of people caught in a web of circumstances and emotions they cannot control. Aside from the glitter and sweep, it has more similarities to than differences from "Gone With the Wind."

This may be Hedy Lamarr's most challenging role, and she acquits herself quite well. George Sanders appears infrequently as a sympathetic character, but even he is victimized by the Scarlett O'Hara-like wiles of Hedy. That both of these performers have accents that are not suggestive of born-and-bred Maine residents should not constitute more than a minor annoyance. The picture has more than enough offsetting merits.

The Strange Woman is directed by Edgar G. Ulmer who also co-writes the screenplay with Hunt Stromberg and Herb Matthews from the novel of the same name written by Ben Ames Williams. It stars Hedy Lamarr, George Sanders, Louis Hayward, Gene Lockhart, Hilary Brooke, Rhys Williams and June Storey. Music is by Carmen Dragon and cinematography by Lucien N. Andriot.

I don't want the youngest. I want the richest!

Well well, what an intriguing little period noir this is. Story deals with Jenny Hagar (Lamarr), a strong and scheming woman who in 1840s Bangor in Maine, uses men for her own gains whilst exuding a double persona that shunts her into the upper echelons of the town's standings. But, as we become privy to Jenny's back story and psychological make-up, you can feel that cloud of pessimism closing in.

There will always be arguments put forward about if the likes of The Strange Woman should be classed as noir or not, but with Ulmer and Andriot cloaking the tale with claustrophobic shadows and low lights, the blacks and whites atmospherically used, thus the visuals are in place to marry up with the story, and what a story.

Jenny Hagar is a classic femme fatale, in fact fatalistic could be her middle name. We get a sneak peak of her deviousness as a child, and then we see her as a luscious older beauty, dangling men around her fingers and fully committed to marrying purely for money. What follows Jenny around is murder, suicide, incest, seduction, greed, violence and alcoholism! And of course, self-destruction.

Jenny has no qualms about who she tramples on to achieve her ends, but the kicker in her story is that she does have good in her fighting to get out, she can be charitable at times, and as we come to understand her upbringing she even garners a level of sympathy from the audience. It's this dual aspect of her make-up that intrigues greatly, but she's fighting a losing battle, more so as Bangor is the wrong place for her, itself a confused mess of unsavoury or spoilt characters.

There were problems behind the scenes, but so many conflicting reports exist it's hard to know what is true and who was pulling the main strings. What we do know is that Ulmer, armed with a bigger budget than usual, has crafted a moody and daring picture that strikes devilish notes without banging the drum too loudly. Striking scenes and imagery are many, thunderstorm seduction, lairy lumberjacks, river of death and the big finale are just some of the moments showing what Ulmer was capable off.

While Lamarr, for her pet project to move her into darker roles and be taken seriously as an actress, turns in a top performance. Unafraid of the material, she cuts loose with a blend of sexual dynamism and troubled soul. Around her are fine performances from Lockhart, Hayward and Brooke, though Sanders is a touch out of place. The pace sometimes sags, and motivations and actions of support characters could have been more fleshy, but in the main this is well worth taking a stroll down a dark alley for. 7.5/10