Il prigioniero

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.

Interesting play by Bridget Boland loosely based on the notorious fake trial of Cardinal Mindszenty of Hungary after a month of brainwashing by the communists in 1948. Alec Guinness was himself a catholic and is really living out his catholicism in this great performance of the live dissection of a catholic priest, extremely actual in today's situation with the church immersed in scandals of pedophilia. Bridget Boland makes a very different story from the Mindszenty drama, making the interrogator (Jack Hawkins) an equal to the Cardinal as opponent and prosecutor and seems to be winning but actually loses in the end against the honesty of the Cardinal realizing his own futility, while the prosecutor- interrogator as a victor is the real loser and takes the consequences. Fascinating drama, which should be returned to again and again. In reality, Cardinal Mindszenty's brainwash process only lasted for less than a month and was chiefly conducted by the use of drugs and physical exhaustion. The only parallel torture that Alec Guinness is exposed to is forced insomnia. He is imprisoned for longer than three months with only private talks with the interrogator as a method and finally released, when the "state" thinks it has won by ruining his reputation and exposing him as a fraud, while Cardinal Mindszenty was sentenced for life. The film was made in 1955, the year after saw the Hungarian revolt, and Cardinal Mindszenty was then set free and lived a long life, even writing books and his memoirs. He is still one of the most important icons of Hungary and will remain so. His shrine is at the ancient basilica of Esztergom north of Budapest, a very beautiful place by the Danube.

Though the wonderful Wilfred Lawson gives a good turn as a jailer, this is basically a two-man show, based on a play. The two men are fine actors: Alec Guinness, as the beloved Cardinal arrested by the state in a generic Eastern European Cold War setting; and Jack Hawkins, as the state inquisitor, trying to coerce the Cardinal into making untrue confessions for a show trial.

Both men are brilliant, though Guinness is perhaps too impenetrable, not only for his inquisitors, but for the audience. Hawkins' character and Guinness's worked together in the Resistance against the Nazis; since then, Hawkins has become a high Communist official trying to eradicate the church from public life.

At first, the movie seems like a cat-and-mouse game between two fanatics, though erudite and educated fanatics, one believing in the church and the other in the ultimate power of the state. Hawkins keeps his well-practiced geniality, though, while Guinness, under mental torture (Hawkins knew Guinness had suffered physical torture under the Nazis and was inured to it) begins to show cracks.

While the movie is hardly a cliff-hanger, and doesn't discuss religion or even totalitarianism in any great depth, the performances by the leads are intense, and worth watching for the acting alone, even though one may be puzzled by what it's all about.

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.

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.