Le droit de tuer

In this forgotten classic, a husband has to face the worst news imaginable: his wife has a brain tumor. They live in a small town, and the family doctor is also a close, personal friend. Together, he and the doctor agree not to tell her, so she can live out her life in as much peace as possible.

An added realism to this movie is the onscreen pairing of Fredric March and Florence Eldridge, who were married in real life. When he kisses his wife and worries how many more days he'll have with her, he's really kissing his wife. Freddie and Flo made a few movies together, and this is one of my favorites. I'm sure he would have given just as wonderful and compassionate a performance acting opposite another actress, but it's extremely touching to see him alongside his wife. If you like their rapport, check them out in Inherit the Wind.

Obviously, the title of this movie suggests some conflicting feelings about the plot. It's a very thoughtful piece that's a drama without dramatizing. It feels as real as it can be while still serving as entertainment. If you're a Fredric March fan, you've got to rent it.

The concept of tempering legality with compassion is a daring, slippery slope. It is today as it was in 1948 when this challenging film was released.

Fortunately, this drama has the great acting team Florence Eldridge and Fredric March in the lead roles, lending both power and sensitivity to their characterizations. While conceding that the law must by its nature be clear and committed, one can also empathize with the human challenges faced in the case of a terminally ill loved one who is in great pain and suffering.

Where does one draw the line in such cases, especially when a spouse accused of murder emphatically pleads guilty? It's a tough situation created here, and one that must either tread the path of legal justice or find extenuating circumstances to help relieve the inevitable sentence.

"An Act of Murder" manages to walk this tightrope with considerable balance, thanks to an outstanding cast and some petty talented writers. The film also may be considered a "lost work," despite the pairing of Mr. and Mrs. March in the lead roles.

It's also interesting to see only a single bona fide professional review in the IMDb, as though this subject may have been (and still may be) too tough to handle. The most complete review (by Bosley Crowther of the NY Times) expresses the critic's general reaction without declaring a firm stance on the controversial subject of euthanasia. And perhaps this is the best we can ever get, for the topic may be too challenging for us mortals to ever definitively solve.

Caught this tough 1948 drama on TCM, which seems to have been out of circulation for a while. It's about a tough, by-the-book judge (Fredric March) who discovers his wife (Florence Eldridge, March's real-life spouse) has a fatal, painful disease, and rather clumsily plots a mercy killing. This means that for much of the film's length we have to watch Eldridge suffer, suffer, and it's quite uncomfortable viewing. There are plot conveniences that one other poster lists, and also the debatable position posed by the family doctor (Stanley Ridges, also good) that Eldridge should be lied to about her prognosis. Hal Mohr's photography thrusts itself deep into the Marches' anguish, and plot and subplot are contrivedly merged when Edmond O'Brien, as the liberal attorney who's romancing the Marches' daughter (Geraldine Brooks), injects himself into March's murder trial. Then there's some unconvincing, unsolvable philosophizing about euthanasia, and fadeout. I find a number of faults: Daniel Amfitheatrof's hyperactive musical score, which needlessly underlines everything, and was there ever a less appealing juvenile than pudgy, charmless Edmond O'Brien? But the issues are real, the debate is tense, and Mr. and Mrs. March are superb. Now if only TCM would find a way to show their other excellent co-starring vehicle from back then, also Universal and also directed by Michael Gordon, "Another Part of the Forest."

Preachy moralizing on a downbeat subject, "An Act of Murder" is somewhat redeemed by outstanding performances by Frederic March and his actress wife, Florence Eldridge. A strict judge is faced with a moral dilemma, when his wife of 20 years is struck with a fatal disease that is incurable and increasingly painful. Most of the film's running time deals with the judge's home and work life, his daughter's relationship with an attorney the judge dislikes, and visits to a doctor, who is a personal friend of the couple.

Movies about terminal illness are often cloying TV fodder and difficult to endure; few are entertaining and tolerable like "Dark Victory," in which Bette Davis overcame a dire prognosis by sheer force of her personality. Directed by Michael Gordon and adapted from a novel by Ernst Lothar, this low-budget film does avoid maudlin moments and is no tearjerker. Eldridge as Catherine Cooke faces her crisis with courage and dignity, even while her symptoms worsen and her health declines. March's Judge Calvin Cooke stoically witnesses his wife's pain and addresses the imminent loss of his partner without self pity. However, the story reaches tedious sermonizing during a climactic courtroom scene. Edmund O'Brien, who plays the daughter's improbable love interest, steps into the court proceedings to make a point, after which a judge, portrayed by John McIntire, delivers a lesson about heart in the law, and March closes the film by declaring himself a changed man.

To say that "An Act of Murder" is entertaining is a bit of a stretch given the subject matter. To say that the film's moral teaching is groundbreaking would be untrue for most people. However, the sensitive portrayal of a loving couple facing loss after twenty years of marriage acted out by a loving couple after twenty years of their own marriage is reason enough to endure the sermonizing.

I watched "An Act of Murder" because I love the actors Frederic March and Edmund O'Brien. Both were Oscar-winning actors who were not exactly handsome (especially as they aged) and managed to give one impressive performance after another over the decades. Sadly, however, despite having two excellent stars, the film lost its momentum towards the end.

When the film begins, March plays a tough-as-nails judge and O'Brien a bleeding-heart defense attorney. The two don't like each other all that much--and late in the film, O'Brien's character comes to the judge's defense when he's on trial for a mercy killing. In between is the part of the film I loved most--and which is totally obscured by the ending which is filled with speechifying and some bizarre behavior by March's character. It's a shame, as the idea of mercy killing and medical ethics are really interesting topics and it's pretty amazing to see them talked about in the 1940s, as usually films deliberately avoided this back in the day.