Night Must Fall (1964)

 

Night Must Fall (1964)

 

It’s long been understood that prose and stage-plays are generally more sophisticated mediums than cinema. They had far longer histories of development and also have to do more earn the audience’s affection. Prose requires effort by the Audience, stage-plays might require even more so because of the arranging time and travel. Movies allow more passivity than prose and less scheduling and/or travel than live-theater --PLUS-- since streaming appeared we don’t have to leave our houses and if we nod-off we can rewind. The fact that film doesn’t have to work as hard is often reflected in the product.

 

The most sophisticated cinema is likely to be Adaptations of stuff from the other two mediums, this is why the Academy Awards hand out two Screenplay Oscars, Best Original and Best Adapted. Take the example of the 1965 Oscars (the one for the year “Night Must Fall” came out); all nominees in both categories are fine films but not all were equal. Restraining myself to only those I’ve seen:

 

Under Original we have our Winner, the charming by Light-Weight “Father Goose” (story by S. H. Barnett; screenplay by Peter Stone, and Frank Tarloff); a more-sophisticated-than-usual but still-not-Shakespeare James Bond Spoof, “That Man from Rio” (Jean-Paul Rappeneau, Ariane Mnouchkine, Daniel Boulanger, and Philippe De Broca); and “A Hard Day’s Night” (Alun Owen) which I’ll admit was far meatier than I excepted.

 

For Adapted, our Winner is “Becket” (Edward Anhalt), a powerful Historical Drama exploring what forces a man to Change for Better and Worse and also challenges us to examine our Ideas of what constitutes Justice; the Musical Romance “My Fair Lady” (Bill Walsh and Don DaGradi) which proved far more substantive than expected; the same is true for a Children’s Movie with surprisingly Grown-Up Themes, “Mary Poppins” (Bill Walsh and Don DaGradi); and “Zorba the Greek” (Michael Cacoyannis) a Ribald and Heart-Rending examination of Masculine Pride and Ambition.

 

There is also an odd-man-out, “Dr. Strangelove: or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb” (Stanley Kubrick, Peter George, and Terry Southern), an Adaptation which paid so little heed of its source novel (“Red Alert” (1954) also by George) that I think it should be considered it an Original screenplay.

 

Though this not quite as true now as it was then, things are still much the same. Also, stage-plays (source of two of the five above-listed Adaptations) seem to have concluded that cinema is too challenging a competitor in many Genres and basically abandoned Horror. This wasn’t true before 1940, when many of the best Horror films were adapted from stage-plays: “Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde” (thirteen film Adaptations before 1940, all more similar to the various play versions than the original novel), “The Cat & the Canary (three versions 1927, 1930 & 1939); “The Bat” and “The Bat Whispers” (1926 & 1930, both based on the same play, both more similar to the play than the original novel); “Dracula” (two or three Adaptations before 1940 and the 1931 was more similar to the various play versions than the original novel) and “Frankenstein” (also 1931, five Adaptations before 1940, all more similar to the various play versions than the original novel).

 

“Night Must Fall” began as a play by the same name by Emlyn Williams (1935), had been adapted to cinema once before (1937), and would see more Adaptations to other mediums and well as repeated Revivals on the stage. It’s a remarkably compelling Portrait of a Charming but Irredeemable Sociopath and most of these Adaptations and Revivals seem to be driven by the Lead Actor lobbying hard for the production because he wished be Cast-Against-Type in the best possible vehicle (Robert Montgomery in 1937, Abert Finney here, and even Matthew Broderick on Broadway in 1999). By the time the 1964 version was made, Horror films based on stage-plays had become rare.

 

This is the only version I’ve ever seen, but I’ve read up on the play and first film and though there are some radical changes, the outline and Characters remain intact: the identity of the Killer is obvious throughout, in all cases he’s Insane, but one of the essential differences is how his Insanity is treated. In the play and earlier film, the Killer’s Motives seem Pragmatically Malevolent but in the end the Pragmatism is revealed as a Veneer, he’s not a Master Criminal, he’s a Whack-a-Doodle.  The 1964 film reveals immediately that there was no Pragmatism of Evil, that he’s wholly Insane. It’s the difference between a Psychopath and a Sociopath, both Diagnoses are often reflected in men who present themselves as Charming Rouges, Manipulative, and without Conscience, but there are important differences between the two Disorders. A Psychopaths lack of a Conscience is deeper, he is less capable of forming deep Emotional Bonds, but also generally more deeply Perceptive of others; this combination grants him greater Self-Control and he’s generally more Successful as he learns the best paths towards violating Norms. Meanwhile the Sociopath’s Conscience is weak but not non-existent, he’s somewhat more capable of making Emotional Bonds, and is defined by an Impulsiveness that the Psychopath is generally able to resist; perhaps the fact that there is some Conscience and some Bonding puts the Sociopath under greater Stress as he violates Norms and therefore greater risk of both Violence towards others and his own Self-Destructive Decompensation.

 

The play was from the Christie-era (usually understood as Inter-War years though the end of WWII bit the Author herself, Agatha Chistie, was still writing significant works into the 1960s), when the Evil-Doers in Crime Fiction were most often Psychopaths (important to understand, Psychopaths are less “Psycho” than the Public generally understands). Even Agatha Christie’s few Serial Killers (novels “And then there Were None” (1932 under a more offensive title), and “The ABC Murders” (1936), and her play “Mouse Trap” (1952)) were careful Plotters and had Pragmatic, or at least Rationally-recognizable, Motives.

 

I haven’t seen any other version of Williams’ story but the fact that it contains major changes is well known. This Adaptation was by prolific Writer Clive Exton, notable for his Horror and Crime film; he was born in 1930, so he grew up as the Christie-Era was drawing to a close and sensibilities were changing. This film was in was made in the post-“Psycho” era (novel 1958, film 1960) when Sociopaths and other complete Irrationals became more prevalent in Crime/Horror fiction (and yes, I’m saying that “Psycho’s” Norman Bates was something other than a Psycho). It’s an irony that the more-purely Insane (meaning Socially Dysfunctional) picture of Evil became more popular among a generation of Audiences who grew up witnessing the History’s greatest examples of the more purely Psychopathic (more effectively Functioning) Nazis.

 

“Night Must Fall” opens with a beautiful Welsh forest (filmed in England) and the score by Composer Ron Grainer that echoes Igor Stravinsky “Rites of Spring” (1913). Quickly it cuts to a brutal Axe-Murder placed far-enough in the distance that it is not Gory but still Savage, and the score abruptly changes with it. It still echoes “The Rites of …” just different movements. The music proceeds to bounce back-and forth between the two tones depending of what is in-frame at any moment, at least until the setting changes and the first Dialogue Scene begins.

 

The tonal shifts initially make the score problematically intrusive but that becomes more effective as the three main female Character’s move closer and closer to an unrecognized doom. The Nursey Rhyme “Three Blind Mice” (Folk Rhyme first published in “Deuteromelia or The Seconde part of Musicks melodie” (1609)) appears repeatedly and increasingly discordantly. In one sequence one female Character, Emotionally Desperate, goes to a movie theatre and though we never see what’s on the screen the music is Romantic; later in the same sequence we can hear that the movie had War Film because of the sounds of a raging Battle.

 

Importantly, we know the Murder took place and who the Killer is, long before any of the other Characters, so they have no reason to suspect anything is amiss. The three female Lead Characters are all in compelling Crisis even without them knowing the man in the house is a burgeoning Serial Killer. 

 

This film opens up the story beyond what is possible for a stage-play, and one of its virtues is its marvelous Location Shooting (Cinematography by Freddie Francis, also the finest Director associated with the Hammer House of Horror, and he had some support of the equally great Cinematographer Gerry Fisher). One of the best visual tricks was a nail-biting scene where the camera was mounted on the wheelchair, locked statically on one woman’s face, while the world spun around her as she raced from room-to-room.

 

I suspect that the original play was a Chamber Play, meaning a Three-Act production with a small cast, understated Costumes and Props, set in one or two smallish rooms. Over-time, stage-plays (except for Musicals) have more and more pursued the Chamber Play’s Intimacy because they’ve acknowledged cinema defeating them terms of Spectacle. There is also a significant body of cinema that uses lively Camera-Work to intrude even into Chamber Play territory. The great Master of that intrusion was Director Igmar Bergman and this film looks a lot like Bergman’s “Wild Strawberries” (1957) in its lush B&W Cinematography, Framing Devices, Unchained Camera techniques and naturistic treatment of Casual Domestic Cruelties.

 

Mona Washbourne plays Mrs. Bramson, a frail but wealthy but widow who is lonelier than she admits to herself, confined to a wheelchair more than really necessary, and not as in control of the events of her household as much as she would like to pretend. In her first scene she’s in that wheelchair rolling back-and-forth between two curtained windows to peek-out and spy her daughter and House Keeper, one on a swing in the garden, the other approaching the house from a different direction. Peeking out windows will happen again and again throughout the film, each time there’s a revelation on one side of the pane of glass or the other, and in one case, the plot turns on a Character not looking out the window when she should’ve.

 

Susan Hampshire plays her daughter Olivia, beautiful, impetuous, and deeply dissatisfied. The scene switches to the outside of the house as she chats with the Housekeeper Dora, played by Shiela Hancock, a rather plain woman who has found herself to be Pregnant though not married. Oliva asked questions of Dora that are in no way harsh but reveal that this Socialite is lacking in Life Experience and hints of a great Chasm between her and her mother.

 

It would be customary for a woman like Bramson to fire a woman like Dora because of the scandal, but instead Bramson shows a stern kind of generosity and demands to meet the father, that’s Finney as Danny, a Bellboy at a local Hotel and also our Killer. The ease in which Danny charms Bramson shows what a softie she is, and the lack of interaction between her and Oliva, even though they live under the same roof, may explain why Bramson treats Dora and Danny so much like they were her own children.

 

Danny is Handsome, Charismatic, Vibrantly Childish, and Attentive when it is to his advantage. He encourages daring and a sense of fun in women when he wants something from them. Finney was, without doubt, the driving force behind this production, he’d previously collaborated with Director Karel Reisz had on the acclaimed “Saturday Night and Sunday Morning” (1960), here they are co-Producers. MGM, which also made the 1937 version, financed this film based on the excitement caused by the still-unreleased “Tom Jones” (1963) and everyone expected that any quick follow-up by Finney would be huge. When this film finally came out the USA, the Tag-Line on the poster was "The lusty brawling star of Tom Jones goes psycho in Night Must Fall.” His performance is here remarkable, equal parts Scenery-Chewing and Nuanced, acting like he was performing for an Audience even when alone in his room because the whole world is just an story he’s inventing in his head full of endless Triumphs and no Consequentialism. Danny describing himself to Oliva this way, "I'm private, you know. This is where I live.” He points at his brow. “Private."

 

Danny’s look is perfect in how it contrasts with Finney’s y performance. His is hair slicked-backed, unparted, with never out of place; heavy make-up makes him unnaturally white compared to the women; he wears and a series of long-sleeved and conservative white shirts; he’d look a bit like a manikin when he was standing still, but he’s never is. He’s forever buoyant and bouncing off the walls, a signal that he is cursed to only imitate the Human Emotions that he sourly lacks when he’s not exploding. An unnamed Critic for the Watching Classic Movies blog wrote, “Finney has Danny speak like a deranged ventriloquist's dummy, using his familiar staccato delivery to horrifying effect. He seems possessed, and the scary thing about it is that just about everyone around him thinks it's hilarious.”

 

Everything but Danny is polite and surface calm; everything is also deeply vicious. Class Divisions are underlined and manipulated at every turn as Danny moves into the Bramson Mansion. He starts to wear his Bellboy uniform, acting as a Servant, calling Bransom “Mother,” and getting her to eat out of the palm of his hand. The film doesn’t hide Bransom’s sexual craving for the new “son” even though she hides it from herself. At one point, in a rage, she shouts at Olivia, "He doesn't belong to you, you know! I'm the one who pays him!"

 

His presence in the house makes it seem he’ll do-right by Dora, but he’s already bored of her. He’s got his eyes of the prettier Olivia. Though Oliva half-despises him, she’s also shallow, a failed Actress forced to move back home, with a boring fiancé, and falls less for Danny’s Boyish Charm than his promise of Excitement. Dora, in a rage, sums up Oliva perfectly, calling her a posh wannbe who wants everything for herself, even if its someone else’s.

 

Not surprisingly, Dora, as “common” as Danny and seemingly with the most to lose, is the first to see through his façade.

 

All the while, a woman that everyone knew and no one thought highly of has been reported missing and the Police are beating the bushes in the nearby woods. Though the windows of the mansion, Danny watches the Police search with glee.

 

Very few Serial Killer fictions address that the Killer live pretty Conventional Lives outside the Killings, movies prefer to exaggerate his Power or fail to address his Domestic Life because they are so caught up in the Plot Mechanics of his Hunting Humans and/or the Police Hunting him. But Real-World Killers like Donald Dean Studey, Edward Wayne Edwards, and Keith Jesperson, had wives and children and almost none of these men were the perfect Jekyll & Hydes as they are so often presented as in fiction. Even if one is totally ignorant of the Crimes should’ve been able to see something was wrong and these men because they generally Emotionally and/or Physically Abusive to those closest to them. Actually, Studey’s children witnessed some aspects of his Murders and that scarring them deeply. Edwards daughter didn’t see the Crimes but she saw enough of his imbalance that she went to the Police with her suspicions. Jesperson didn’t kill his wife, but he did repeatedly Hospitalized her because of his Brutality.

 

Edwards daughter, April Balascio, has said, "Kids aren't stupid." No, but often they, and adults, refuse to see. Even without the Murders, Edwards was a life-long Violent Criminal and a former FBI Most Wanted, but post-Prison, but before his final arrest. he well-liked by his neighbors and even worked as a Motivational Speaker. Serial Killer Dennis Rader, who identified himself as “BTK” in notes left for Police, was held in contempt by his co-Workers who jokingly called him “BTK” behind his back, yet his daughter, Kerri Rawson, saw him as doting and protective until his Arrest caught her entirely by surprise.

 

Danny gets more one-screen time than any of the women, but they, collectively, get more on-screen time than he. As different as they are, they share the same flaw, and that flaw is what this film is really about. In this film Mrs. Bramson, Olivia, and Dora are all frustrated women, and frustrated people are especially vulnerable to their Fantasies and Desires blinding them, therefor easy prey to a manipulator.

 

The film also demonstrates that Danny has sunk even deeper into a World of Fantasy than these women. It feels no need five-minute lecture on Psychology like Director Alfred Hitchcock did in “Psycho,” but instead demonstrates how tenuous his connection is with an Objective Reality in nearly every frame.

 

Danny flits from one woman to another and them back again, causing the house to simmer with Resentment and that Resentment, which was still ignorant of the real Threat, triggers more Violence.

 

This film is now seen as a minor Classic, but was despised in its day. Part of the problem was timing; Audiences weren’t ready yet. Despite the incredible success of “Psycho” another film of the same year, “Peeping Tom,” more Psychotically astute than “Psycho” and now considered more of a Classic than “Night Must Fall,” but  was met with contempt and ruined the career of the great Director Michael Powell.

 

Another problem was the disapproval about the changes made from much-beloved play which went far beyond Danny being more obviously Insane earlier in the story. Even Cinematographer Francis said so, “I think it was a good film, it wasn't a very good version of ‘Night Must Fall’ but as a film, and I always told Karel if they'd called it anything other than ‘Night Must Fall’ it would have been successful. But if you say this is be Night Must Fall everybody remembers ‘Night Must Fall,’ the head in the hat box and blah blah blah. and this had none of that element in it. It was too much a study of this Strange boy, which was fine but not when people are waiting for the hatbox bit."

 

The “hatbox bit” was quite Suspenseful because we knew that’s where Danny kept the trophies of his Crimes. He liked to play with the contents, he never hid the box from view so what was inside was at constant risk of discovery, and the anticipation of seeing what was in it, even though we already knew, was quite Suspenseful. Another prop used to great effect was a Glove Maker’s Stretcher, when it falls apart in Snooping Olvia’s hands just before Danny walks through the door, it’s so much like a dismemberment that we can’t help but think Oliva is a goner.   

 

Many contemporary Critics complained that film was too violent, Critic Hal Erickson even complained it was a "a gore-encrusted opus." But there’s not one drop of blood throughout, even though it was many times more Savage than the other versions. In the end we don’t even get to look in that Hat Box, a quite Artful way of taunting the Audience. It was among the least-gory Horror films of its time, the height of the Hammer House of Horror’s Gothics, even less gory than Hitchcock’s “Marnie” of the same year.

 

Also, the Character of Olivia was much different and deliberately unsympathetic. I approve of that because I can’t see a nicer girl hooking up with a Cad when another woman, almost her sister, was pregnant with that Cad’s child. Also, the last few minutes bring home to her how much she betrayed herself and everyone else by not being able to see through Danny because she’d so distracted herself with her Loins and Self-Absorption. When the World Came Crashing Down Around her, she had real reason to feel Guilty and wanted Danny to Kill her. The ending is far darker than other versions, and far less sensationalistic than almost any other Serial Killer movie you might think of.

 

Word-of-Mouth could’ve saved this film, as it saved “2001: a Space Odessey” (1968) and “Halloween” (1978), but that was rendered impossible by MGM’s tawdry marketing campaign; it was like they never even looked at the film because they appeared to be marketing a much different one.

 

Producer/Director William Castle was famous for his Marketing Gimmicks that were silly but worked well because his Horror movies were just as silly. Hitchcock borrowed Castle’s tactics, but not his specifics, and his gimmicks were Classier than Castle’s. But “Night Must Fall” was a far more serious film than any Castle or even “Psycho” yet MGM took Castle’s gimmicks whole cloth, promising Insurance to be paid out if an Audience member Died of Fright (Castle made the same offer for “Macabre” (1958)). It is not a surprise that the Audiences who would’ve liked it (Bergman’s fans) stayed away while those who few who did show up (Castle’s fans) were pissed off that they didn’t get what they were promised.

 

Trailer:

Night Must Fall (1964) - (Original Trailer) - Turner Classic Movies (tcm.com)