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| Image Courtesy of Britannica |
Based on the critically acclaimed
horror novella The Turn of the Screw by Henry James, The Innocents is
a classic of psychological horror, that even 80 years later has the power to
send chills through its audience. Directed and produced by Jack Clayton, this
adaptation of the famous story is studied heavily by film theorists and audiences
alike. The script, originally written by playwright William Archibald and later
heavily reworked by Truman Capote, is 99 minutes of terror that will excite
anyone brave enough to take on this masterpiece.
Staring Deborah Kerr as
Miss Giddons, who is a governess offered a job taking care of two orphaned
children in an estate in the countryside by their uncle (Michael Redgrave). The
children’s uncle makes it clear that he wants absolutely nothing to do with the
children, and asks Giddons never to bother him at all if it can be helped. When
she arrives in the countryside, however, she becomes convinced that the house
and grounds are haunted, and that the spirits haunting them are putting the
children in danger.
This movie expertly
crafts the tone of the film. Although definitely scary at times, the entire
film is more eerie than anything. Kerr walks a thin line, never confirming or denying whether or not
the spirits are real or a figment of her imagination. This has led many Freudian
theorists to assert that the spirits are a figment of her mind, brought on by
sexual repression, although you will have to watch the film yourself to determine
if this theory is true.
The children, Flora
(Pamela Franklin) and Miles (Martin Stephens) are creepy in a way that only
children can be. Early in the film Flora demonstrates knowledge of things she
should not have, such as future events, and secrets. The film is always careful
to walk a thin line here too, between the supernatural and kids just being
strange. The children are often shown whispering among themselves, and dodge important
questions that Miss Giddons poises to them. One of the creepier scenes features
Miles kissing Miss Giddons goodnight far longer than he should have. Miles
often looks at Miss Giddons in a very strange, almost seductive manner
throughout the film, perhaps to underscore the Freudian elements sprinkled
throughout.
The film uses elaborate
cross dissolves and fades to contribute to an almost overwhelming feeling of
claustrophobia, as commented on by cinematographer Freddie Francis, who painted
the edges of frames shot indoors to amplify this feeling. During dream
sequences there are often several shots fading over each other creating a busy,
aggressive, claustrophobic feel to these scenes. The soundtrack adds to this effect
immensely. Originally done by Georges Auric and later touched up by W. Lambert
Williamson, the atmospheric soundtrack lays over many sound cues to create a
composite that is at times oppressive.
This expertly crafted
film is one of the seminal piece of psychological horror that every psych
horror film afterwards owes a debt of gratitude. Although this film received only
lukewarm attention when it was released in 1961, contemporary critics and audiences found much to love about this
adaptation, and I hope you will too during this 31 Days of Hell.
--Patrick Bernas
