A Mulher que Pecou

I was a tender 14 years old in 1962, when I accompanied my mentor (my high school Spanish teacher) to an art house movie theater in Greenwich Village to see this film. My only previous encounter with Leslie Caron had been in the wonderfully entertaining film "Gigi". I must say, this two hour spectacle of unrelieved misery came as quite a shock to me. I left the theater thinking I had just seen the most depressing film I had ever seen in my life. And yet...I loved it! In fact, I felt very grown up at having survived it. This would not have been possible without the aid of the movie's soundtrack, Brahm's Piano Concerto No.1, which my astonished ears heard for the first time that evening. I've been in love with that piece--and with Brahms--ever since.

I saw this film first when I was twenty and, for me, it summed up all the anguish of being young, female and alone in London. The performances are magnificent, and at the time, I found Tom Bell to be quite attractive. I later went off him when he was successively portrayed as a seedy villainous type. The thing which completely mesmerised me at the time was the music (Brahms First Piano Concerto). I haven't read any other comments about the music and I am interested to know if anyone else was as affected by it as I was. It is, of course, a fabulous piece but this was my first introduction to it. I was a music student in 1962 but in common with many other music students of the time, not very knowledgeable. I immediately became very passionate about this piece.

One of the best of the so-called "kitchen-sink" films, THE L-SHAPED ROOM is nearly perfect. The set decoration probably deserved an award for the way it evokes, with poetry, the incredibly realistic environment of a down-and-out London rooming house. As many commentators have noted, this film avoids clichés and gives us real-seeming characters played by gifted actors. There is not a single weak link in the cast, with Tom Bell, Avis Bunnage, Brock Peters, Cicely Courtneige among others providing so many memorable moments. At the heart of the film is Leslie Caron in an award-nominated performance that is not likely to be forgotten by anyone who sees it. This is a performance that elicits true feeling, done with a kind of invisible artistry, so it seems completely real. Bryan Forbes, one of Britain's finest directors of the period, paces the film well, relying on Caron and others to fill what may have been longueurs with true meaning. The only criticism is the use of the Brahms First Piano Concerto in the soundtrack. The surging romanticism, while appealing in itself, doesn't fit very well with the mood of the film, apart from a couple of quiet scenes. It's certainly not a big problem, only it seems an odd musical choice. A deeply affecting, unforgettable film.

Bryan Forbes' second directorial feature was in sharp contrast to the lighter-toned "Whistle Down The Wind" from the year before. At times a sombre mood-piece, it nevertheless is a sensitive character study of the struggling tenants at a cheap Notting Hill (before it was Notting Hill!) boarding-house to which Leslie Caron's Jane character winds her weary way at the outset.

A 27 year old single French woman, she's pregnant and on her own after her first sexual encounter with an English actor who, like her parents, has recently rejected and abandoned her. Now friendless, she's down at the end of lonely street at this seeming heartbreak hotel where under the bawdy, boozy landlady's charge live a disparate and desperate set of individuals. These comprise a young black jazz musician, a handsome, young, white out-of-work writer, a nosey, fading old white lesbian actress and down in the basement, an old prostitute and her young Hungarian protege, the latter learning the dopes you might say.

After much pressing, Caron eventually, if reluctantly enters into a relationship with Tom Bell's possessive writer which seems to upset the musician next door who possibly has feelings for either one of them. However, once he learns of the pregnancy, Bell quickly drops her, leaving her to seek friendship at each of the other doors in the establishment. As Caron puts it herself, everyone it seems wants her to have an abortion but apart from one major wobble, she's determined to have the child.

It all winds up at a Christmas party for all the tenants in the landlady's front room (Bell excepted) and a nicely written (literally) bitter-sweet conclusion as Caron has to face up to her far from certain future.

Excellently filmed and played by all, this was a fine example of the early 60's kitchen-sink drama prevalent in U.K. cinema at the time. The situations, characterisations, sets and dialogue are credible and natural and shot and played in a convincingly realistic manner. Caron, previously only known to me from big-budget Hollywood movies from her youth is something of a revelation as the alien presence trying to cope with her further alienation all on her own. Bell, too, I was impressed with as the wounded, loquacious charmer unable at the key moment to man-up as today's phrase goes and do the decent thing for someone he clearly loves. All the other supporting characters, played by Brock Peters, Cicely Courtneidge, Avis Bunnage and a pre-Elsie Tanner Pat Phoenix likewise turn in strong performances making this a strong ensemble piece.

Honest, straightforward and moving, this is one of the best movies of its type I've yet seen, the better for focusing on a female character at its bruised, shifting, but always beating heart.

Forlorn Frenchie Leslie Caron--27-years-old, unwed, pregnant and alone--takes a room in a British boarding house bustling with funny, mercurial people. Next-door to her is a black jazz musician, while downstairs is a handsome writer (who, naturally, hasn't sold anything in months). Down the hall from the writer is a lesbian shut-in, also a man-hungry landlady and two prostitutes. Bryan Forbes directed and adapted Lynne Reid Banks' book, taking careful steps to let this humanistic tale unfold as naturally as possible (when Caron upsets the horn-player, she talks so sensibly to him at his door that his initial anger suddenly seems unfounded and embarrassing). Certainly the dramatic and romantic predicaments which transpire are familiar, and Caron's insistence on keeping her condition a secret is a little bit nutty, no matter how afraid she is. However, the dignified film has a bittersweet tinge to it that draws one in, and the cast is uniformly strong (especially Caron, doing Oscar-nominated work). A few of the arguments become repetitive, though Forbes handles the characters sensitively. It's a happy/sad piece with a lovely message which says people change, they come and go, yet the rooms they once occupied carry on without them, renewed with fresh voices. Caron lost the Oscar to Patricia Neal in "Hud", but she won the BAFTA for Best British Actress. *** from ****