RETRO-ACTIVE: THE BEST FROM THE CINEMA RETRO ARCHIVES

A GHOST STORY FOR ADULTS

By Raymond Benson

Under appreciated upon its original release in 1961, The Innocents is today considered one of the great film ghost stories. After all, it’s based on Henry James’ creepy The Turn of the Screw, a truly scary masterwork published in 1898. In the capable hands of Jack Clayton (fresh off his success with Room at the Top, which had been nominated for Best Picture and Best Director in 1959), the picture delivers a classic Gothic punch that is strange, beautiful, and, ultimately, powerfully disturbing. Faithful to the source material, the story is set in the Victorian era. The gorgeous and inimitable Deborah Kerr stars as a naive and, as it turns out, sexually repressed governess who is hired by an eccentric and secretive man (“The Uncle,” played by Michael Redgrave). She is to be a governess to his orphaned niece and nephew at a lonely country estate, aided by only a couple of servants. He neglects to tell her the place is haunted as hell.

Noted film scholar Sir Christopher Frayling, in a video introduction on the background and production of The Innocents, says that a pivotal scene in the film might be more unsettling today than it was in 1961—and that is when the young nephew (Martin Stephens) plants a very adult kiss on his governess. Yikes! Frayling’s right! At this point the movie takes a sharp left turn into true darkness, the prickly kind that prompts you to turn to your neighbor and say, “Eww.” That’s right, this is a film more about sex than it is about ghosts, although it is certainly that, too. The ghosts happen to be the former governess and valet, who apparently had a steamy love affair in the house, not caring who witnessed it—not even the children. Both died in unnatural ways. The plot gets even more sick—the ghosts are attempting to possess the children so they can continue their love affair in new bodies. What? The bodies of siblings, the ages of whom are somewhere between ten and fourteen?

Eww.

So, right there we know that the giant multi-room house, inside of which the governess is losing her mind, is haunted by sex. Vile, evil sex. And Ms. Kerr’s Miss Giddens, the daughter of a conservative pastor, reacts appropriately. Thus, we are presented with the best kind of ghost story—an ambiguous one. Are there really ghosts? Or is Miss Giddens skyrocketing off her rocker? It’s up to us to decide. It’s not on a whim that the film was originally marketed as adult fare.

Clayton’s sensitive and assured direction, along with Kerr’s riveting performance, certainly bring to the film its winning qualities, but two elements of the production are essential to the picture’s success—the cinematography by Freddie Francis and art direction by Wilfred Shingleton. Francis’ work is specially showcased in this new Blu-ray disc from The Criterion Collection. Francis shot the movie in CinemaScope black and white, and yet he also shaded the corners to shape the image into a subtle, oblong, and more tunnel-like rectangle. The striking contrasts in lighting that occur throughout the interiors and exteriors are, oddly, almost characters themselves in this eerie story. Brilliant stuff.

And it all looks marvelous, for Criterion’s new 4K digital restoration is flawlessly executed—the images truly reach a high-water mark for black and white celluloid on Blu-ray. Sir Christopher Frayling also provides an informed audio commentary. Other extras include a video interview with cinematographer John Bailey about Francis and his work, and a new documentary featuring interviews with Francis himself, editor Jim Clark, and script supervisor Pamela Mann Francis. The essay in the glossy booklet is by Maitland McDonagh.

Without question, The Innocents is a classy and elegant release of a stylish and chilling motion picture. Highly recommended.

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