Narciso nero

Deborah Kerr is designated to establish a convent in the Himalayas at a remote cliffside dwelling, a palace of dubious origin. She takes her assignment seriously and faces strange customs and unfamiliar peoples as well as a harsh climate. There are inner struggles as well, and Kerr is excellent at revealing these. Huge closeups reveal what her character is supposedly thinking as she peers at others, often in unspoken disapproval of their actions, particularly David Farrar, Jean Simmons (as an Indian girl), and Kathleen Byron--who gives the film's most urgent performance as the distraught nun with worldly pleasures on her mind. Kerr gives a faultless performance, the mainstay of the film, since most of the story is seen from her viewpoint.

The striking color photography and set decoration were rightfully awarded Oscars. A haunting, powerful study of the effects of loneliness and isolation on a group of nuns--and what happens when one of them goes beserk. The struggle between the two nuns at the bell tower is one of the most gripping climaxes ever. A richly detailed British film with a windswept atmosphere all its own.

Group of Anglican nuns are sent to the Himalayans to start a convent/school/hospital in an old palace which used to be a House of Ill Repute. Quickly, the strange locale, the constant winds, and the appearances of a strapping handyman sends two of the sisters to distraction. Gripping drama from Powell and Pressburger has moments of sly humor, incredible beauty. Some of the close-ups (as when Sister Superior Deborah Kerr remembers fox-hunting in her youth, or when Sister Ruth discloses her desires of the flesh) are fascinating, almost surreal, and the finale is a wind-whipping frenzy of emotional overload. A few characters--such as Sabu's General and Jean Simmons' young tart--are not expanded upon and simply evaporate, but the film is still a stunner, depicting need and survival with colorful, melodramatic flourish. ***1/2 from ****

The story concerns a group of nuns opening a new convent school/health clinic high in the Indian Himalayas. The high altitude, the native people, and the mountain vistas, have profound effects on the woman, and each, in their own way, begins to question their commitment to their chosen life. The performances are good, though somewhat typical in that rather dry, post-war kind of way. Kathleen Byron makes a very modern attempt to create a startling and unusually frank image of female sexuality. Her quick kiss of Mr. Dean's hand as he evicts her from his home is part childish defiance, part serpent's bite, and is just one of the many highlights of her performance. The 70-year-old May Hallat is also note-worthy, creating a bizarre and thoroughly original character in the form of the servant Angu Ayah.

The movie's true stars however are production designer Alfred Junger and cinematographer, the legendary Jack Cardiff. Junger manages to create a vivid and hallucinatory vision of northern India on an English sound stage. The interiors of the crumbling palace, with their intricately carved screens and painted murals, are beautiful, and the courtyards, full of goats and chickens caught in the howling winds, convey an incredible air of authenticity. With a Technicolor camera, nobody ever really knew exactly how the developed film would look. All you could hope for was that a gifted cinematographer and a Technicolor consultant could twiddle those little dials in just the right way so as to alter the light spectrum and burn vibrant reds and haunting indigo onto the film forever. The virtual alchemy of the process, the unexpected serendipity, is what lends this film its excitement, and Cardiff's Oscar win is one of the most deserved in the Academy's history.

An amazing visual feast, that while lacking in strong performances, teaches us much of the bravery, science, craft and artistry of vintage cinema.

This is a spellbinding movie that has haunted me for years. No other film in my sixty- odd years of viewing has so affected me. There is, beyond the obvious tangibles of superb artistry, an intangible quality that continues to elude me. Maybe it's that last scene of departure - the man framed against the mountain, the raindrops evanescing from the leaves, the procession passing into the mist. I know something has passed, yet something remains. But what? I know now that the movie is to be experienced, not decoded, a case where the figurative whole becomes a sum greater than any of its truly astonishing parts. The result projects that rarest of film qualities—an aesthetic that transcends artistry. Someone once observed that strange things happen when the practical mind of the English encounters traditional mysticism of the East. Strange and sometimes wonderful things, it should be added.

Wind is always blowing throughout the monastery the Servants of God nuns have inherited in a remote part of India. In accepting being in charge of the new place, Sister Clodagh will question her faith as she faces one of the greatest challenges of her life.

Michael Powell, working with his usual collaborator, Emeric Pressburger, on the Rumer Godden's novel, created a film that stands the test of time. His achievement is even more incredible as he shot this film in an English studio. The film, brilliantly photographed by Jack Cardiff, one of the best men in the business, and a frequent ally of Mr. Powell, is one of the best pictures of the English cinema. The glorious Technicolor still looks great.

"Black Narcissus" questions how some Christians, in this case, nuns of a religious order, can be so blind about things that deviate from what it deems is the right way. When the young General wants to be part of the school the nuns are creating, they reject him, yet, he asks about how would a God, made human in the form of Christ, would respond to his petition.

Sister Clodagh is also put in a spot when she wants to get rid of the old man who day after day sits staring at the distant mountains. It's Mr. Dean who challenges her in asking how would her God deal with the old man. Sister Clodagh's past is revealed in flashbacks when she was a young woman and in love with a young man who wanted to emigrate to America and she wasn't ready to follow him.

Also, Sister Ruth, who is a rebel, decides to abandon the order because she is in love with Mr. Dean. The highlight of the film is the scene in which Ruth begins applying the deep red lipstick, which makes quite a contrast with her beautiful reddish hair to the horror of Sister Clodagh, who clearly is not prepared for the desertion.

There is also an undercurrent between Sister Clodagh and Mr. Dean, who one feels loves her. The nun is too loyal to the principles that made her take the vows. She realizes at the end that while she had the best intentions to transform the place, she is only a human being who suffers a defeat because of her surroundings.

Deborah Kerr enjoyed one of the best triumphs of her career with the role of Sister Clodagh. She is seen as a young woman of great beauty and the austere nun she became later in her life. David Farrar is Mr. Dean, the Englishman who is now living in that remote part of India and knows the people well. Kathleen Byron makes an excellent contribution as the rebel Sister Ruth. Flora Robson plays the kind Sister Philippa. Jean Simmons appears as a cruel Indian girl, and Sabu has some interesting moments in the film.

This is one of Mr. Powell's best movies in his influential film career. He was one of the most innovative film makers of his generation and it shows well in "Black Narcissus".