Whirlpool (1950)

Film Noir to me is dark, with evil deeds and especially unhappy endings. This was before I began thinking about it and determined that noir is more a type of film making rather than film content. A film like "Double Indemnity is noir even tho we do have some happy in the ending (the daughter and boyfriend reconcile). Sunset Boulevard has Norma so bonkers she thinks things are happy and so they are. So, this noir is a happy noir. Gene Tierny is hypnotized by Jose Ferrer and he makes her do things to help him murder a former sucker who turned on him. Jose is so good at hypnosis he even google-eyes himself after gall bladder surgery so he can get about knocking off people and listening to records. Gene's husband is a shrink himself, but legitimate and somehow he connives that Jose is not on the level. He believes her, then he doesn't, she's nuts, she's not, oh dear, what to do, what to do. Cut to murder scene and Jose hiding in the wings with a guy he finally Jose tries to get Gene to cover for him while hubby and a cop are searching a closet. Failure and good wills out, happiness and joy, cut. This movie is so contrived, I wanted to hypnotize myself in to shutting it off but stayed to course to see how lousy a top notch cast/production could screw up. Pretty bad.

This is one of those movies that keep you watching despite a sloppy screenplay - why, for God's sake, does Korvo (Jose Ferrer) first attempt to gain control of Ann Sutton's (Gener Tierney) mind in the middle of a cocktail party albeit in an empty room into which anyone could have wandered and why, when Tierney discovers the body of Ferrer's ex lover, do two guys turn up from nowhere and call the police. Add to this Richard Conte as arguably the most unconvincing psychiatrist in screen history and we begin to see the size of the problem. Nevertheless Tierney keeps us watching as Ferrer is effective as the quack Korvo.

Another complex, at times morally ambiguous film noir from Otto Preminger, engaging the services of top writer Ben Hecht and actors of the quality of Gene Tierney & Jose Ferrer to give it life. It's old ground of course for all of them, Preminger and Tierney had teamed up in "Laura" and, with Hecht were to do so again in the soon-come "Where the Sidewalk Ends" while Hecht had previously turned psychoanalysis to thrilling effect in Hitchcock's "Spellbound". There are certainly some typically subversive little Preminger / Hecht touches, I detect, of voyeurism and fetishism, running the film close, I would imagine, to the prevailing moral code of the day, which the former was to take on further in "The Moon Is Blue" and to some kind of apogee in "Anatomy Of A Murder" 10 years later. Look and listen closely here and you'll see the camera fading out a shot of Tierney's husband just about to disrobe his wife after she falls into a hypnotically induced deep-sleep and at another point the salacious quote addressed to Tierney by morally corrupt blackmailing hypnotist/astrologist (what a CV!) Ferrer about "undressing her scruples". I was even pulled up by the scenes of the blood-marks on the floor from Ferrer's character as something you didn't see everyday in the sanitised, Hollywood still coming to terms with the Communist witch-hunt in the post-war era. The playing is excellent, Tierney, who I've only just discovered as an actress (largely through watching old film-noirs!) is again radiantly beautiful as the ashamed kleptomaniac, desperate for a cure, but at the same time conveying her character's complexity and inner toughness as she finally breaks the hypnotic spell cast on her by Ferrer. For me, Ferrer steals the movie, making your skin crawl in every scene he plays once his perverted (in every sense of the word) designs become apparent. Their scenes together, where he can hardly conceal his lust for Tierney and desire to break up her happy home are electric and he also gets a lengthy scene where he hypnotises himself against the excruciating after-effects of his self-conducted gall-bladder operation. He completely convinces you of his strength of will over his physical pain to enable him to go after Tierney as she struggles to recover her amnesia which will of course expose his own guilt. The direction is taut, the cinematography excellent, the settings convincing and I also especially appreciated the excellent use of music to dramatise key scenes. Naturally there's a large degree of implausibility about just how Tierney finds herself under the control of such a toxic character and the denouement is perhaps more complicated and played out than it might be but this is still a highly intelligent, challenging piece of cinema, further pushing back the barriers of adult cinema in late 40's Hollywood.

Gene Tierney plays the beautiful but troubled wife of a wealthy psychoanalyst; she's suffering from kleptomania and seeks help from a nefarious hypnotist, who uses her for his own advantage. Otto Preminger-directed drama, from a novel by Guy Endore, has a terminal case of blandness. The well-coiffed picture is smartly-designed, but it is so starched and manicured that even the themes of blackmail and murder fail to cause much alarm. Tierney, her prim face permanently set in a super-serious freeze, has no character to play and falls back on externals; as the villain, Jose Ferrer gets off to a good start (much like the picture) but he quickly becomes monotonous. *1/2 from ****