A Dama de Espadas

Any other version of Alexander Pushkin's short story classic The Queen of Spades, that isn't one of the brilliant Tchaikovsky opera, has to be really outstanding to beat this film, which is often considered the definitive version. And it's easy to see why. The costumes and sets are very handsome and the cinematography is sumptuous while also brilliantly having an ominous effect. The score from Georges Auric, who also wrote the score for 1946's La Belle et La Bete (another classic), is haunting without ever being obvious or intrusive(in fact a lot of it is a large part of what makes the atmosphere so effective). While Thorold Dickinson directs with a more than sure hand, there are some imaginative touches and he allows the atmosphere to really speak, a good thing considering that it is a ghost story, and the dialogue is intelligently written and easy to understand while respectful to Pushkin. The story is hugely compelling, yes it is a slow-burner(which is not a hindrance at all, the film was unlikely to be as effective otherwise), but the spooky atmosphere and the high levels of suspense make the film's best scenes chill the blood even now. In particular the card scene, a scene that you'd be hard pressed to find a better one on film. The acting is spot on, especially from Anton Walbrook, who gives perhaps a career best performance, and a heavily made up(and effectively) Edith Evans- looking deliberately older than her years- who is terrifying and tormented. Yvonne Mitchell is an affecting Liza and I haven't seen Ronald Howard more endearingly sensitive than here. All in all, beautiful and chilling both as an adaptation of a classic and as a film in general, one of the best and maybe most under-appreciated in the genre. 10/10 Bethany Cox

At long last, "The Queen of Spades" has appeared in a form worthy of its excellence. Anchor Bay's new DVD set includes a beautiful presentation of it, along with the 1945 anthology horror film "Dead of Night." I've read nothing but good things about "Dead of Night," but haven't gotten around to seeing it yet. To me, it's immaterial. I would pay three times as much for the "Queen of Spades" alone. Once seen, it's hard to forget.

Anton Walbrook may have played more multi-dimensional characters in other films, but never with the same frightening intensity as in this one. The cast is uniformly excellent, but it's his performance as Hermann that really makes the film memorable. Hermann is a strange sort of cinematic hero with no redeeming characteristics whatsoever. His personality is dominated by four of the seven deadly sins: pride, envy, wrath, and greed. As for lust, he lusts only for power, money and influence, his declarations of love being completely false. Gluttony is not an issue, as he lives in poverty in order to horde what money he has. As for sloth, he exerts extraordinary effort into fulfilling his schemes, which are entirely self-serving. Sounds like a thoroughly unpleasant fellow. But Walbrook makes this brooding, scheming, petty, and utterly reprehensible nonentity with a Napoleon complex into a fascinating character study -- a real tour-de-force. The Vienna-born Walbrook (originally named Adolph Anton Wilhelm Wohlbrueck) exaggerates his Teutonic accent to Peter Lorre-like intensity, to great effect. It's this film that made him one of my all time favorite actors.

The look of this film is also extraordinary. Even in this pristine presentation, the cinematography is very dark and deeply shadowed. The shadowy look of the film, along with some oddly angular or distorted shots, is suggestive of expressionist style. The story is told very directly and the plot moved along efficiently, with no superfluous action, which adds to the unreal atmosphere of the piece. Everything associated with the story seems to take place in quick succession. In a city as huge as St. Petersburg, Hermann wanders from the spooky booksellers' shop directly to the old countess's house purely by chance. Every element of the story is essential, and executed with maximum effect and style. The funeral scene in particular is unforgettable.

What a pleasure to find that this terrific, but relatively obscure, film has finally gotten a DVD release, and looks better than I've ever seen it looking. Almost everyone who's commented on it cites the fact that it is little known, and maybe this new DVD will change that a bit.

I've seen this now probably 10 times or more over the decades – it's an out and out genuine British film classic, and still only Thorold Dickinson and Anton Walbrook's second best to Gaslight made 10 years before. The stories themselves had similarities, Walbrook in both playing an avaricious amoral character using a weak-willed woman to meet his own despicable ends. The production values in both were high lending a richly dark and brooding b&w atmosphere on nitrate film stock to compliment the inventive camera-work.

Relatively poor Captain in the Royal Engineers jealous of the wealthy Cavalry officers around him dreams of making his fortune at faro, and eventually gets his way at the price of his precious soul. How he does it is a spooky tale involving an ancient irritating Countess played by the perfect Edith Evans and his attempt to get her to acquiesce to his demands. Who can forget the funeral scene when Walbrook is wondering how the dead can give up their secrets! Everyone acted their hearts out, Ronald Howard nicely restrained to Walbrook's occasional lapses into melodrama. Auric's music is spot on and as graceful as ever, we even get a preview of Orpheus in here to which he composed the music for the following year. The game of faro as depicted here always struck me as particularly boring, but I suppose it was as good a way as any for someone to lose money fast. The secret of winning money at cards is not to play for money at all and to keep your money. I simply can't understand why anyone would watch this for the full 90 minutes hating almost every minute and then waste more of their time telling us!

An utterly marvellous film, a UK post-War Wonder which will survive all comments positive and negative.

In a world where people are obsessed with cards and gambling, Anton Walbrook plays a bitter army captain who discovers a rich countess (Edith Evans) who according to legend sold her soul to the devil so she could always win at cards. Walbrook sets out to find her secret and while doing so falls for Evans' ward (Yvonne Mitchell).

This lavish, spooky and slow burning telling of Pushkin's short story is filmed in dark, shadowy rooms rather like one of Universal's gothic horror films of the thirties. Walbrook is excellent as the desperate, almost maniacally obsessed man out to find the great life secret and Evans is on top form as the grumpy, intolerable countess who has lost her soul. Where the film particularly excels is in the last 30 minutes where there are a number of genuinely chilling supernatural scenes as a ghost haunts Walbrook leading up to a climactic card game, where having learned the secret, he risks all. Spooky and unique in its way - there are no other films that I can recall that are like this.

This macabre little fantasy has so far largely remained under the radar, which is a shame, because it's one of the better British productions of the '40s and '50s. It's the kind of highly stylized costume mystery/horror, that will undoubtedly appeal to lovers of old British cinema.

The story is based on Alexander Puschkin's novella, "The Queen of Spades (1834), about a young captain in the Russian army (Anton Walbrook), an outsider (because he's German) who secretly covets the wealth and position of his fellow officers. When he discovers that an aged countess has sold her soul to the devil in exchange for eternal fortune at the card table, he attempts to gain entry to the household by seducing the countess' naive ward, but his envy envy leads to the dowager's death, a loveless marriage, and Herman's descent into madness.

The production initially ran into some trouble with director Thorold Dickinson entering the project when a great deal of the pre-production was already done. With his limited resources and the inadequate sets and sound stage facilities of the Welwyn Studios, he incorporated as many camera, lighting and special effects as he could devise, and with good effect. The film looks great. Atmosphere in these kind of films is half the work, and they surely did a great job. The acting is somewhat stagy and highly stylized, but this was probably a common characteristic in British acting in those days, and I don't think of Anton Walbrook as a great actor, but the rest of the cast is fine, with Edith Evans in great form as the countess. All in all, not an undiscovered masterpiece, but a fine British chiller with a great period atmosphere.

Camera Obscura --- 8/10