Donne e veleni

A man plots his wife's demise while his lover waits impatiently. It treads familiar territory, with the story a variation of "Gaslight." However, it's a lot of fun, thanks to a good cast, a fast pace, and an engaging script. Colbert and Ameche collaborate for the third time ("Midnight" being the best) while Cummings plays a character similar to the one he later played in "Dial M for Murder." The tension is nicely balanced with touches of humor, with Johnson providing most of the comic relief. Before he became known for directing a series of melodramas in the 1950s, Sirk dabbled in some film noir, and this is his best, a big improvement over the previous year's "Lured."

This thriller starts off with Claudette Colbert asleep on a speeding train and screaming soon after awakening because she has no idea how she got there. At home husband Don Ameche is being interviewed by the police after he calls them because of her disappearance the previous evening. This will be just the first in a series of bizarre circumstances for Colbert.

This film is nicely photographed and has some impressive sets. It also features Robert Cummings as a nice young man Colbert meets who becomes interested in her, George Coulouris in thick horn rimmed glasses playing a creepy guy, something that came very naturally to George Coulouris, and Hazel Brooks, looking very seductive and slinking around, much as she had recently done in another independent production of considerably more fame today than this one, Body and Soul.

Once you realize, however, that this is another Gaslight-type thriller (and it gives its hand away fairly early), it all starts to seem like territory a little too familiar. It also gets more than a little silly when the husband puts a sleeping potion into his wife's hot chocolate at night which seems to make her highly susceptible to any suggestion that he may whisper into her ear once she falls asleep.

For myself, recalling the charm that Colbert and Ameche had brought to the screen almost a decade before when they appeared in director Mitchell Leisen's sly, sophisticated comedy bauble, Midnight, I was a little dismayed to see them together again under these Gaslight circumstances. Still, Sleep, My Love, while far fetched at times, is an adequate thriller for fans of the genre.

Claudette Colbert wakes on the train bound to Boston. She has no memory of anything beyond going to bed the previous evening. In South Station she runs into college chum Rita Johnson, and her friend, Robert Cummings. Meanwhile, Claudette's husband, Don Ameche, is reporting her as missing to the police. He seems relieved when he gets her phone call. But there's more.

It soon becomes clear this is a rather sinister film noir, with Ameche gaslighting Miss Colbert so he can have her committed. It's a slow, deliberate movie, and quite creepy, with director Douglas Sirk getting in early potshots at the well-to-do. Mary Pickford is credited as the presenter, and her husband, Charles "Buddy" Rogers is one of the producers. It's a topnotch noir, one of the last Miss Pickford produced.

Sleep, My Love (1948)

OK, it's a no brainer. I love Claudette Colbert, I love this post-war period, and I love Douglas Sirk, the director. So it only figures that this unfolds in a delicious way.

The closest film to this is "Gaslight," which George Cukor makes into something more intense and memorable than this. But "Gaslight" is burdened by a kind of contorted plot--the reasoning behind the fake madness is some crazy lost jewel. This one, by fortunate contrast, is a really believable plot, and Colbert is faced with a very normal plot of a husband out to drive her away.

There are some weaknesses--the husband's girlfriend is pretty stiff, the Chinese pal is decent but sort of tacked on, and the overall development of things is too linear for a second viewing. But as a straight up drama, from start to finish, it's really strong. And a surprise for me was how charming in a low key way was Robert Cummings, the white knight of the story. Colbert's husband was played by the more famous Don Ameche, who is fine, though you get a sense he's going through the paces of a part, something he wasn't quite invested in.

The director is famous for his later dreamy, drippy soap opera movies that are quite something on their own terms, but this is good, and an important one to see if you like his work. For me, above all, is just another great Colbert appearance. First rate in many ways.

Alison Courtland (Claudette Colbert) wakes up in the middle of the night on a speeding train, she has no idea how she got there...

Staring Claudette Colbert, Robert Cummings, Don Ameche, George Coulouris, with support coming from Rita Johnson & Raymond Burr. Directed by Douglas Sirk, adapted by St. Clair McKelway (Cy Endfield & Decla Dunning uncredited) from a novel by Leo Rosten, scored by Rudy Schrager and Joseph Valentine provides the cinematography.

Practically brushed aside by its director, pulled from pillar to post by the genre assignment police, and called everything from a woman's melodrama to a psychological film noir, Sleep, My Love is a film that one could easily be led to believe is just not very good, or at best, confusing. Nether of the last two statements apply as far as I'm concerned.

Firstly it has to be said (since every amateur reviewer in the land has done thus far) this is closer to the likes of Gaslight (Re: Thornton Square et al) than any femme/homme fatale driven piece of cinema. Secondly it should be noted that it's no surprise Sirk turned his nose up at the finished film, because it's a far cry from the "woman's" pictures that would make and solidify his career. What we get is a tight, if formulaic, story, that is mostly acted competently and is filmed quite excellently with an expressionistic bent by Valentine.

Very early on in the piece we are privy to just what is going on, something that those who crave a mystery element may find an irritation. But here's the thing, the atmospherics on offer are enough to carry the viewer through to the finale, where, we await the outcome of the villainous dalliances that have made up the plot. Along the way we have been treated to a number of potent scenes, such as the rushing train opener and a balcony hold your breath moment. Then there's the house itself, wonderfully moody with its looming staircase, it's constantly swathed in shadows as Valentine utilises it to the maximum to make it an imposing character all by itself. In fact fans of shadow play should love the goods here since the film is 98% filmed with shadows.

There's some issues (naturally). Ameche is weak as the treacherous husband, and when one finds that the hulking and deathly sullen eyed Burr is underused, one can't help think that the film would have greatly benefited from those two swapping roles. Hazel Brooks as the "other woman" is also badly underused, an annoyance since what little we do get hints at a sizzling and murky affair that begged to be fleshed out more in the noir tradition. And boy what a pair of legs did our Hazel possess!

It's a damn fine film in spite of the little itches, one that deserves a bit more support than it actually gets. As for what genre it does belong to? Well psychological melodrama filmed in a film noir style sits about right one feels. 7.5/10