Sob o Signo de Capricórnio

An oddball in Hitchcock's filmography, "Under Capricorn" has inspired scoffing detractors and passionate defenders over the years. Even though it's a melodrama about living with guilt rather than a typical Hitchcock suspense thriller, I was prepared to give it the benefit of the doubt. After all, there's nothing inherently foolish about the subject matter, and at least Hitchcock is still exploring guilt, one of his favorite themes. Setting the movie in Australia during the penal-colony era lends a great potential for danger and drama—which it fails to exploit. Instead, "Under Capricorn" is a sedate, weighty "costume piece." Though the acting is good and there are some gorgeous images, these ultimately don't mean much because there isn't enough of a reason to care about the characters and story.

The problems start with the character of Charles Adare (Michael Wilding), a young man who comes to Australia to seek his fortune. He's the type of guy who'd make good comic relief but isn't suited to be the protagonist of a movie: a lazy, cheery, empty-headed aristocrat. Through Charles, we get introduced to some more interesting people: ex-convict Sam Flusky (Joseph Cotten) and his drunken, self-loathing wife Henrietta (Ingrid Bergman). Charles realizes that he knew Henrietta during childhood and tries to rehabilitate her, which causes long-repressed secrets and emotions to come to the surface. But since none of the characters initially engages our sympathy—Sam is brusque, Charles is a lightweight, and Henrietta is a mess—it's difficult to care about any of this.

Hitchcock experimented with long takes in this movie, most notably an unbroken 8-minute- long monologue where Henrietta finally divulges her guilty secret. In one sense, this is the high point of the movie: a chance to marvel at Bergman's talent as she cycles through her emotional range without the camera ever cutting away. But in another sense, this scene displays everything that's wrong with "Under Capricorn." Henrietta's story is full of exciting passion and violence, but none of that emotion shows up during the rest of the movie. And the performers (including Bergman, Cotten, and Margaret Leighton, who plays a sinister maid) are at their best during their long monologues, not when they interact with one another.

"Under Capricorn" is not a horrible movie, just a dull one, so if you're curious about this anomaly in Hitchcock's catalog, there's no harm in spending two hours watching it. But, certainly, this movie would be forgotten today if anyone else had directed it.

'Under Capricorn (1949)' is a film that will no doubt baffle a large proportion of Hitchcock devotees, if only because it discards almost all notions of creating suspense and commits itself to being a costume drama, set in Australia during the early 1800s. Perhaps the most rewarding way to view the film is from a technical standpoint, with Hitchcock recycling a technique he first employed in his 1948 masterpiece 'Rope,' and shooting each scene in one extended, uninterrupted take. While, in the previous film, this style was basically just an experimental gimmick {albeit, a highly effective one}, 'Under Capricorn' makes wonderful use of the technique, with his camera gliding gracefully through the prestigious home of ex-convict Sam Flusky (Joseph Cotten), coasting behind characters and rising above staircases; the amount of organisation that must have been required to plan and execute these complex maneuvers is nothing short of astonishing. The title of the film refers to the story's setting, with much of Australia sitting below the Tropic of Capricorn, one of the five major circles of latitude that mark maps of the Earth.

The 1830s Australian setting proves very appropriate for the material, with the events unfolding in a newly-formed society with a primitive form of law enforcement, occupied by convicts and ex-convicts alike, where one's past is a dark secret of which nothing may be spoken. When an ambitious Irishman, Charles Adare (Michael Wilding), arrives in the Southern Land, the nephew of the new governor (Cecil Parker), he falls into an awkward friendship with the well-respected Sam Flusky (Joseph Cotton), an ex-convict who has made a name for himself on this new continent. Sam's wife, the beautiful Lady Henrietta Flusky (Ingrid Bergman), has suffered a mental breakdown, and, being an old childhood acquaintance, Charles considers it his duty to help this troubled woman to abandon her alcoholism and regain confidence in herself. Sprinkled about this stuffy Gothic melodrama are minor elements of suspense {most notable in the final scene featuring the scheming maid (Margaret Leighton)}, claustrophobia {as in Hitchcock's 'Rebecca (1940),' the old mansion is an character unto itself} and murder.

Though the story of 'Under Capricorn' isn't particularly interesting, and outstays its welcome by about one reel, the film is a fascinating feature from Alfred Hitchcock, and, if nothing else, exists as a testament to the director's technical ingenuity. The picture was Hitchcock's second in Technicolor, and its disastrous box-office performance led to the closure of the short-lived Transatlantic Pictures, which had been formed by himself and associate Sidney Bernstein after World War Two. The acting in the film is solid all around, without being particularly noteworthy, but the characters have enough twists to their personality to keep us watching. Long held as the forgotten black sheep of Hitchcock's output {except by the French, who apparently adored it}, 'Under Capricorn' is a worthy addition to the director's filmography, and stands as must-see viewing for all students of cinema.

If your approach to reviewing this movie is to compare it with Hitchcock's usual style, Under Capricorn will surely not compare. If, however, you can suspend your expectations and view it with an open eye and mind, you might see that, in its own right, it is an excellent film of the type I refer to as the "Victorian soap opera." Being an aficionado of this "genre", perhaps I'm biased; but I enjoyed immensely the leisurely pace, extended dialog (which unlike other reviewers, I found to be intelligent, graceful, and poetic). I found it to be gently suspenseful, never really being sure who would get the girl in the end, or even who might survive to the end.

Joseph Cotton was appealing, even though his character throughout much of the movie seemed to be villainous, and his reasons for being that way were quite apparent by the end of the film. My suspension of disbelief centered around Bergman's casting as an Irish aristocrat: once in awhile she managed to say a word that had an Irish flavor, but mostly she just sounded Swedish. However, that did not detract at all from her usual thoughtful performance. Michael Wilding irritated me a little with his foppish ways, yet even he managed to come off as a human being with faults and virtues...just like the rest of us. Leighton was superb and she, like Cotton, seemed to be a treacherous yet sympathetic character. I think it was the portrayals of complicated people with no one being painted as totally good or bad, the nuanced characterizations that I found so artistic yet real.

If you approach this movie without preconceptions, you might be drawn into it and appreciate Hitchcock's genius in an entirely different way.

Transatlantic Pictures (Hitchcock's own production company) must've rubbed their hands with glee when they decided to co-produce this film with Warner Bros. For not only did they have the world's leading female actress (Ingrid Bergman) in their film, they also had gifted stars Joseph Cotten, Michael Wilding and Margaret Leighton lending support, and naturally the great Alfred Hitchcock at the helm. If ever a film was sure to be a critical and commercial hit, Under Capricorn was it. Such a shame, then, that Under Capricorn emerged as the worst film of Hitchcock's career. The critics roasted it, the public ignored it, and Transatlantic Pictures went bust.

Irish aristocratic lady Henrietta (Bergman) elopes to Australia with her cruel lover Sam Flusky (Cotten). She gradually develops the illness dipsomania, what with her lover controlling her every move with over-bearing authority and their maid Milly (Leighton) plying her with drink. A childhood friend of Henrietta's, Charles Adare (Wilding) turns up and, realising pretty quickly that all is not well, tries to help her regain a sense of stability.

The film is a laughably overwrought costume melodrama, totally ill-suited to Hitchcock's playful, suspenseful directing style. A year previously, the director had made the thriller Rope, using experimental ten minute takes, and in this film he still seems to be in the habit of allowing scenes to go on and on (maybe not ten minutes, but some bits last for six or seven minutes without a single cut). Frequently, the film feels tediously unspooled as a result. The actors seem to over-act much of the time, but it's hard to see how they could've avoided this as much of the screenplay requires them to handle some horribly overripe dialogue and reactions. Under Capricorn is undoubtedly the least interesting film that Hitchcock ever made. Those who try to persuade us that it is a misunderstood masterpiece are, I'm sorry to report, well and truly kidding themselves.

This is one of Hitchcock's very best films.

1831: Irishman Charles Adare arrives in Australia to make his fortune, and soon hooks up with Sam Flusky, a wealthy landowner with a shady past and a business proposition. Ignoring the orders of his cousin, a local Governor, Charles continues to associate with Flusky and his alcoholic wife Henrietta, who was a friend of Charles' sister many years ago back in Ireland.

The long takes the film is composed of are often masterful. Whereas his previous film Rope felt like a gimmicky experiment (albeit a successful one), here the technique is perfected, and actually serves a purpose. It widens the scope to allow the actors room to deliver fine performances, and to exploit the lavish sets. It also serves to narrow the scope, either to focus attention or withhold crucial information until the last moment (it's especially effective at these two). This focusing/concealing also adds to the sense of Bergman's isolation and entrapment in her environment, and allows for some of the film's best shots.

I'm not a fan of Jack Cardiff, but his colour cinematography is considerably less jarring here than in his Powell-Pressburger outings, and although it does take a while to adjust the eyes, it's perfectly suited to the mood and setting.

Ingrid Bergman delivers what I consider to be her best performance. Henrietta is frail and very vulnerable - a pathetic creature. Yet the strength and dignity that she once possessed is glimpsed at the outset, and gradually comes to the fore without ever completely displacing that vulnerability.

Joseph Cotten likewise does an excellent job. His crippling inferiority complex dictates everything he does, and it's where the film gleans much of its drama. In his own way he's equally as pathetic as Henrietta; trapped in a different kind of mental prison. Sometimes he's unaware of his cruelty, believing himself to be doing the right thing; at others it's as if he can't help himself. He's a man who constantly tries to do good things, yet at every turn he's thwarted either by his own secret past, or his fear of that past. For a man so ostensibly powerful he's easy to knock down, and his reaction to these setbacks just reinforces his own negative perception of himself. This conflict is written on his every gesture and expression.

Michael Wilding's performance as Charles is less technically brilliant, but as the carefree, opportunistic cad who sees in Henrietta the chance to do an act of great kindness he's wonderful. There is great humanity in all three leads, but it's most overt and infectious in Wilding.