The Prisoner

Believed to be inspired by the post-war communist show trials of Cardinals Stepinac and Mindszenty this brilliant play by Bridget Boland opened in 1954, directed by Peter Glenville with a cast headed by Alec Guinness, Noel Willman and Wilfred Lawson. Glenville was entrusted with directing the film version the following year with Guinness and Lawson reprising their roles whilst Willman was replaced by Jack Hawkins.

As has been well documented it proved to be extremely controversial and was not only banned from both Venice and Cannes for fear of offending the communists but was also accused in some quarters of being anti-Catholic! Sixty-five years on of course, such 'sensitivities' seem insignificant and all that really matters now is how it stands up as a film.

Although Glenville, making an assured directorial debut, has chosen to take a few scenes outside the proscenium arch, it still remains 'filmed theatre' and is no less effective for that. It is essentially a two-hander between the Cardinal of Alec Guinness and the Interrogator of Jack Hawkins. The lighting, settings and clever camerawork have combined to make their wordy exchanges as 'filmic' as possible.

Guinness is superlative and bearing in mind his subsequent conversion to Catholicism, I would imagine that he put more of himself into this role than any other. His performance as an extremely clever man reduced to a quivering, grovelling wreck by solitary confinement and psychological torture is brave to say the least. He is very much an 'interior' actor of course and I would say that his detachment is inclined to lessen ones sympathy for his character. The casting of Jack Hawkins is a masterstroke as this character's undoubted cunning is tempered by this actor's innate sensitivity. Although he succeeds in his job of breaking the Cardinal down, disgracing him in the eyes of his followers and diminishing his spiritual power, his is a Pyrrhic victory as he too will suffer the consequences.

The playwright herself has written the screenplay and in keeping with the infernal compromises of film, has been obliged to tack on a romantic sub-plot between a prison guard and a married woman which is undeveloped and utterly superfluous.

One cannot fail to mention Wilfred Lawson as the jailer whose character has been cleverly written by Boland to provide a contrast and to fulfil the role of a Shakesperean Fool. Lawson's casting is inspired and he is simply superb.

Purely as a film, it is not without its weaknesses but is easily the best of the Guinness/Glenville collaborations. The scene that lingers longest is that in which the Interrogator observes those praying in the church and realises that although the symbol of the faith represented by the Cardinal has been tarnished, the faith itself can never be destroyed.

The Cardinal's plea:" Do not judge the priesthood by the priest" is devastatingly timeless.

Alec Guinness got to repeat one of the roles he did on the London stage with the screen adaption of Bridget Boland's The Prisoner which was directed by Peter Glenville who also did the original stage production. It was one of Guinness's personal favorites among his parts because of the Catholicism of the actor.

In fact the role really hit close, maybe too close to home, because like the character he plays in the film, Guinness was a child of a prostitute mother who escaped into acting as a refuge from a really bad childhood. Just as his character the Cardinal of an unnamed Balkan country now ruled by a Marxist dictatorship went into the church as a way of rising above the station he was born in life.

Jack Hawkins plays the state inquisitor, a psychologist by training who probes and finds the weakness in Guinness and uses it to get a confession of treason out of him. Pride and vanity are the trickiest of human sins, we're all guilty of it in one way or another.

In making this film Guinness, Boland, and Glenville were all adamant about keeping the main character Catholic and not some Christian preacher of an unnamed denomination as what the producers originally wanted to do, the better for a broader appeal they reasoned. Catholicism and the special burdens and duties it places on its clergy is precisely what makes the story valid.

According to a recent biography of Alec Guinness though it was never going to be anyone else but him in the role of the Cardinal, Noel Willman had done the inquisitor part on stage. Several people like John Gielgud and Peter Bull were considered for that part before Hawkins was signed for the role.

If the subject matter does seem familiar, the role is obviously modeled on Josef Cardinal Mindszenty of Hungary. And director Peter Glenville would have his greatest screen triumph in Becket, the story of another troublesome priest several centuries earlier.

Guinness does lay bare his soul in this film. For fans of Alec Guinness this film is a must.

In an unnamed country behind the Iron Curtain, the government orders the arrest of the Cardinal (Alec Guinness) on charges of treason. The government wants the Cardinal to confess to his crimes so that the international community will hear it, so they set the Interrogator (Jack Hawkins) to work. He orders a battery of psychological tortures be used against the Cardinal, interrupted by regular, brow-beating interrogation sessions. The Cardinal's resolve is very strong, but the Interrogator may be stronger.

Based on a play by Bridget Boland (who also scripted this film version), the stage origins of the material are apparent. Director Glenville does what he can to open things up with some scenes set out in the oppressed streets, and using off-beat camera set-ups and editing to enliven the lengthy one-on-one dialogue sessions between Guinness and Hawkins. The story line is of its time (it was based on a couple of real incidents), but the subjects of mental and spiritual endurance in the face of extreme stress are universal. The performances by Guinness and Hawkins are excellent, and I also liked Wilfrid Lawson as the agreeable Jailer.

because it is a great artistic duel between Alec Guiness and Jack Hawkins, remembering, in few scenes, "Beckett". because the performance of Wilfrid Lawson is really seductive. because it use as symbol, maybe, the example of Jozsef Mindszenty, Archibishop of Esztergom, but, in same measure , it is an inspired story about the conflict between the State and the Church under Communism. it represents one of of films with a precise target. almost a refuge. because it is slow, uncomfortable, simple and far to give answers. one of films who must see it. because it is a large window to the essential things defining each of us.

Inspired by the plight of Catholic Cardinal Josef Mindszenty behind the Iron Curtain – already the subject of a worthwhile low-budget Hollywood film, GUILTY OF TREASON (1950; see above) – this prestigious British production (based on a Bridget Boland play, who adapts her own work for the screen) boasts two powerhouse performances by Alec Guinness (as the proud Prince of the Church) and Jack Hawkins (as the wily Interrogator). Their interaction is a beauty to behold and one cannot help but be reminded how these formidable actors had already worked together in, curiously enough, MALTA STORY (1953) and, of course, would go on to do so again under David Lean's Oscar-winning direction in THE BRIDGE ON THE RIVER KWAI (1957) and LAWRENCE OF ARABIA (1962). Although much of the running time is devoted to their rigorous one-on-one sessions (enough for it to be deemed a two-hander), the film allows (at least) another fine actor to shine: Wilfred Lawson as Guinness' jailer who grows to respect his prisoner with time. The small cast also includes Kenneth Griffith as Hawkins' eager-to-learn subordinate – incidentally, the latter also appeared in two episodes of Patrick McGoohan's later cult TV series of the same name but which bore no relation to this movie! – and Raymond Huntley as Hawkins' impatient superior. Conversely, the romantic subplot between doubting Communist Ronald Lewis and his Catholic girlfriend Jeanette Sterke seems forced and intrusive – almost like an afterthought (whereas it had been far more effectively handled in the aforementioned Hollywood treatment). But, as I said before, the film's trump card is its gradual depiction of the evolving relationship between the two leads, which really has no equivalent in GUILTY OF TREASON (where Charles Bickford's tormentors were various and generally shrouded in darkness). Although the main characters and the setting remain unnamed throughout (lending it a pretentious air of political allegory also missing from the earlier film), the controversial subject of THE PRISONER got it banned from participating in both the Cannes and Venice Film Festivals – although it did get nominated for 5 BAFTAs and, eventually, won a couple of other international awards.