Le Secret du Dr Whitset

Just to elaborate on certain comments about Pamela Franklin; she was born in 1950, and 'The Third Secret' was made in 1964, which made her... 14. Not 18, although she may have seemed precociously mature for her age - but then, that's very much part of the fabric of the film. Her scenes with Boyd carry a sexual tension that film-makers and society in general were brave enough to confront at that time. Indeed, don't films from the 60s and 70s (until Star Wars brought serious cinema crashing down) seem terribly grown up? Although Charles Crichton was an Ealing man, his work here is more reminiscent of the Woodfall school of British realism, and light years away from his comedic timing in 'The Battle of the Sexes'. It's hard to deny that the dialogue gets a bit stodgy at times - a pity, since the screenplay contains a great many sly clues to the solution which can get lost amidst the psycho-babble. This was made at a time when much of the UK's cinema was in the hands of serious craftsmen and women - their films are exemplary lessons in thoughtful, considered cinema. However, in this case, fine technique fails to overcome a wordy screenplay, although it's a close-run thing.

"The Third Secret" from 1964 is a British film starring Stephen Boyd, Pamela Franklin, and Diane Cilento as well as a few stars in small roles: Richard Attenborough, Jack Hawkins, Rachel Kempson, and Nigel Davenport. Judi Dench has a small role -- she was just coming up the ladder.

Boyd plays a television journalist, Alex Stedman, who also happens to be the patient of psychiatrist Leo Whitset. When Whitset is found dead, it's an apparent suicide, as he tells his housekeeper that he is responsible. Everyone assumes he means responsible for his own death though no one checks it out.

Whitset's teenage daughter (Franklin) appeals to Boyd, stating that her father could not have killed himself. The suicide is devastating to Boyd, and he is desperate to learn whether or not it's true, because otherwise, he can never believe anything his doctor told him. Suicide was a direct contradiction of his work.

Stedman is able to get a list of Whitset's patients and starts visiting them to discern which one of them could be the killer. He develops a relationship with a beautiful woman (Diane Cilento) who was also a patient of the doctor's.

There are plenty of suspects, but who could it be? Whitset's daughter tells Alex that her father said there are three secrets everyone has: the one you won't tell anyone, the one you won't tell yourself, and one other.

I thought the acting was very good all around, with Franklin's young voice a little too high-pitched for me -- I had the same problem listening to Deanna Durbin as a child - after awhile, it becomes annoying.

My problem with the story is that it dragged. At 90 minutes or so, it felt like three hours. It was interesting, it is by no means a bad film or badly directed, but it was hard for me to get into for some reason. Others found much more to like in it - mine is just one opinion.

Does that sound redundant? It's not, you know. Think of all the 'mysteries' that show the murderer in the first few scenes ("The Big Clock", "Sleuth", etc.). "The Third Secret", on the other hand, waits until almost the last scene to reveal the murderer, which makes it a much more satisfying mystery.

But what sets "The Third Secret" apart is an exceptionally well-written script with some of the most intelligent dialogue to come down the pike in years. What a refreshing departure from the current fare, loaded with f-bombs and other obscenities. This picture is written for grown-ups by a grown-up. Couple this with flawless performances from all concerned, and you have a picture worth at least a seven in our rating system.

I can go no higher because this movie is a bit long-winded, with protracted scenes of very capable actors engaged in aforementioned dialogue to the point of tedium. You will, however, enjoy the overall premise - that the death of a well-known psychiatrist was a murder and not a suicide. Very cleverly handled with a twist ending. "The Third Secret" is well worth your time. It's just that it seems to last longer than it actually does.

In an era obsessed with 'mental health issues', this film about deeply damaged personalities probably has more resonance now than when first released. The 'madness' element was much reduced by 20th Century Fox and Patricia Neal's role as one of the psychiatric patients consigned to the cutting-room floor. Most critics at the time gave it the thumbs down but over half a century on it remains an engrossing if not entirely convincing piece, the strength of which lies in the splendid and in some cases immensely touching performances from a first-rate cast under Charles Crichton's sensitive direction whilst Douglas Slocombe's superb cinematography accentuates the gloom and Richard Arnell's atonal score underlines the derangement.

Listening to the film's obligatory psychobabble brought to mind playwright Jerome Lawrence's observation: "A neurotic builds a castle in the air, a psychotic lives in it and a psychiatrist collects the rent."

The director was Charles Crichton, the starry cast included Stephen Boyd, Richard Attenborough, Jack Hawkins, (terrific and walking off with the movie), Diane Cilento, Paul Rogers, a fourteen year old Pamela Franklin and a certain Judi Dench in her film debut while Douglas Slocombe did the superb cinematography in black and white Cinemascope so why was "The Third Secret" such a load of old codswallop for most of its length. Easy; the script by Producer Robert L Joseph was a stinker.

It's a whodunit but given the material it's hard to care which of psychiatrist Peter Copley's patients bumped him off. The police have it down as suicide but his daughter, (a precocious Miss Franklin), believes it was murder and asks television journalist Boyd, (himself a patient), to play sleuth. Given the funereal pace of his investigation, (and the movie), it's difficult to see what audience the producers thought they might have. Perhaps they felt the cast alone would bring them in but the film has largely disappeared and is now of interest only for its use of London locations and for Judi Dench completists. Otherwise something of a folly.