Skip to main content

Back to the Feature: The Innocents (1961)

The ‘creepy child’ trope in horror most likely originates in Henry James’s The Turn of the Screw, one of the great classic ghost stories and works of psychological horror. But it is one thing to read about the eerie behaviour of two children, it is another thing to see it in practice -hence why the novel made for a popular adaptation on stage. However it didn’t make it to the silver screen until 1961, when playwright William Archibald adapted his own version, renamed The Innocents, with Truman Capote and director Jack Clayton produced a truly haunting work. And though movies like The Bad Seed and Village of the Damned had primed the pump, what we think of when we think of creepy children as a horror movie device perhaps found its first footing here. The spectre of Damien from The Omen, the kid from Insidious, Brightburn and so many other freaky manipulative movie children can be found in little Miles, however innocent he may or may not be.
That is of course the other great source of horror in this movie -the uncertainty over whether the hauntings are real or just some disturbed hallucination of the protagonists’ mind. It is the same theme explored so vividly in Shirley Jackson’s The Haunting of Hill House and its masterful movie adaptation a couple years after this one (and of course both stories formed the loose the basis for seasons of Mike Flanagan’s Haunting series). The Innocents is gripping on a similar level, though very much does its own thing in regards to the hypnotic, chilling aspects of this story. The hair on my back stood on end multiple times through this film -its results are still very effective.
Deborah Kerr stars as Miss Giddens (the character is in fact unnamed in the book) who is hired to be the new governess at Bly Manor for the orphaned niece and nephew of a wealthy aristocrat who very openly wants nothing to do with them and gives her great freedom in her responsibility over them. She goes to Bly, is very charmed by the precocious Flora (a young Pamela Franklin) while her brother Miles (Martin Stephens) is away at school. However Miles soon returns unexpectedly, having been expelled for reasons housekeeper Mrs. Grose (Megs Jenkins) and other staff who knew him can’t fathom. He appears to be perfectly polite if a tad mischievous. Shortly after he returns Miss Giddens begins observing strange behaviour in the children -unusual talk and inappropriate attitudes towards her, and further begins seeing and hearing apparitions of the children's former governess Miss Jessel -who died suddenly the previous year- and the valet Quint, also dead, with whom she had been having an affair, and begins to grow paranoid over the influence she perceives them having on the children.
The way that Clayton depicts these hauntings is probably the most successful aspect of the movie, each sequence where Miss Giddens witnesses them is appropriately eerie and even downright chilling. The black and white photography is critical, the contrasts and shadows isolating Miss Giddens against her foreboding surroundings highlighting the mystery of the darkness. One seemingly mild encounter sees Miss Giddens come across the spirit of Miss Jessel while playing hide and seek with the kids before bed -a woman walks from the shadows into an adjoining room just ahead of Miss Giddens -nothing but a silhouette and yet the instant presence is creepy. Lighting and composition become fundamental tools as in a later scene where she is wandering through the house and the outlines of objects stand out in suspicious ways, edited together with inserts of the object sources of some anxiety or noise Miss Giddens is experiencing. Her first prominent ghostly encounter is when she sees Quint staring at her through a window, his visage fuzzy as though looking through a fishbowl -though the wicked smile of actor Peter Wyngarde leaves such a menacing impression. But then there are scenes where the apparitions are more corporeal -Miss Jessel specifically. Yet I love that for these Clayton keeps her at a distance, whether out on a patch of weeds on the lake seemingly locking eyes with Flora or at the other side of a schoolroom weeping. No close-up shots or pan-ins; we can see her but she is still removed, and all the more eerie for it.
Kerr is really quite good in selling the terror and the hysteria slowly overwhelming her. The story has often being interpreted as a metaphor for sexual repression, and while it is not as obvious as in the story it is still there in things like the leering way that face of Quint looks at Miss Giddens and the troubling intonations of Miles towards her that leads to Miss Giddens suspecting these ghosts are possessing the children. Why else would Miles be downright flirtatious in his attitude around her? Of course these details are highly subjective, and part of the inherent thrill of reading the story is that question of how much of what she is seeing is just in her head? Are Flora and Mrs. Grose genuinely gaslighting her when they claim they can’t see the woman on the lake? Is Miles’s tone, if not his actual language, really what Miss Giddens perceives it as? It can be tough to articulate these things in a visual medium, but The Innocents does a strong job of it. We never quite leave Miss Giddens’ perspective, and though we might be predisposed to trust in Kerr, her performance grows more desperate and manic as the film goes along -beyond the pale of the high emotions she might express in other melodramas. Subtly, it is a much darker performance than I’ve seen from her, and she handles its complexity beautifully.
Both Stephens and Franklin are haunting as well though -Stephens had already played one creepy child in Village of the Damned and is quite good here at playing another more sinister variation. The nuances in his performance of deceptive politeness really stand out, especially the closer things get to the climax. Meanwhile, Franklin plays several of her scenes like she is proud of some great secret she is withholding, and though ostensibly the nicer of the children there is a touch of apparent cruelty in the extremities of her behaviour in defiance of Miss Giddens, especially concerning the vision out on the lake.
Clayton casts such a strong sense of atmosphere all through the movie -Bly is a bit vague in dimensions compared to a manor such as Hill House but it is still rendered with striking character where need be. The tense mood of the place is relayed through his choices and amplified in the music by Georges Auric and Daphne Oram and the cinematography of the great Freddie Francis who utilizes some really powerful split dioptre shots that train the eye to catch seemingly innocuous parts of the frame. It is perhaps most effective in the scenes where the phantom of Quint appears in the background behind a character in the foreground, through the prism of a glass window making for a surprisingly terrifying effect, especially in the latter case where it is contextualized within a chaotic rant of reprobation from Miles that reads to Miss Giddens as proof positive of the caretaker's control over the young boy. It makes for a stupendously chilling moment.
This film doesn't pull its punches, committing ultimately to both the grim end of the story and its abruptness, both of which are effective shocks that keep the story's chief themes and ideas percolating. The tension boils in tandem with Miss Giddens' apparent desperation and all through Miles's explanation for his expulsion, which at least raises some certainty over his lack of honesty in behaviour. It is curious that approaching the critical moment, Clayton and Francis choose a new vantage for the apparition that could perhaps point towards their credibility. Yet that question is ultimately still kept vague and the mystery over how the ending comes about and Miss Giddens' possible culpability remains, touched by the unsettling final motion of hers, mirroring one of Miles's from earlier in the film that again alludes uneasily to a problematic sexual repression.
It leaves you with a lot to analyze and discuss, as the story does. The Innocents is a superb adaptation not only for this but for how eerily and effectively it translates that mystifying mood. Clayton's work here, alongside that of Francis and Kerr deserves every plaudit. It is a creepier ghost film than most that have been made in more recent years. Miles and Flora, and their potential ghost avatars, are still captivatingly haunting figures -however you read the film, innocents no more.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The Strange History of the American Spoof Movie

Parody movies have been around for a lot longer than we tend to think of them. Even from the earliest days of Hollywood there were movies meant to satirize a particular subject or genre. In the silent era, Buster Keaton was responsible for a few. And in the early sound era, almost as soon as the monster pictures took off did you see comic versions of them -Abbott and Costello hosting a few. But parody movies tended to be subtle for most of cinema history, or parody came in conjunction with another goal of the comedy. It really wasn’t until the 1980s and 90s that it took off and became popularly understood. And there is perhaps a line to be drawn to the counterculture comedy explosion that began in the 1970s through avenues like  Saturday Night Live , which frequently parodied from even its earliest years popular movies and cultural properties of the time. But that is still a way’s back. To my generation though, ‘parody movie’ is perhaps a less known term than the more blunt ‘s...

Notes on the Title Cards of The Lord of the Rings

It might be sacrilege for one who both considers The Lord of the Rings  trilogy to be one of the greatest triumphs of cinema and has been an avid lover of the films since adolescence, to declare that the original theatrical cuts of the films are better than the much beloved extended editions. Easily it’s my most controversial opinion regarding these movies. Don’t get me wrong, I do like the extended editions quite a lot, especially as someone who just enjoys spending time in that universe. They flesh it out more, add extra flavour, and in increasing the length by about an hour really emphasize the epic quality of these films. But I find that the original cuts are generally more cleanly paced, more seamlessly edited, and much more accessible to audiences. All the stuff there is to love about The Lord of the Rings  is there in the original versions, the plethora of new and extended scenes merely add to that for fans. And of those, they fall into three camps for me: 1....

A Stylish and Charmingly Reinvented David Copperfield

The Personal History, Adventures, Experience and Observation of David Copperfield the Younger of Blunderstone Rookery (Which He Never Meant to Publish on Any Account)  is the most important book Charles Dickens ever wrote. It is not the most famous or influential by any means (that would of course be A Christmas Carol ), but it is the book that is the purest expression of the authors’ style, identity, and worldview. It is his most personal work, semi-autobiographical in its story of the chronology from infancy to adulthood of a character who overcomes great loss and hardships to find a fulfilling life as a writer. To read David Copperfield  is to understand Dickens himself. Armando Iannucci knew this when he decided to make a new adaptation of the novel for a twenty-first century audience. He also knew that Dickens adaptations are ubiquitous at this point. Films are a bit rarer, but every few years a new television adaptation rears its head to keep the authors’ unique world an...