My viewings since Netflix slowed down deliveries have trended more recent. I had to look back two months for a review of a movie older than this and three months for another '40s entry. But I still have a taste for the era. And despite not enjoying much from Carol Reed, even with help from Graham Greene, I still give him a chance.
Philippe (Bobby Henrey) is the maybe seven-year-old son of a French ambassador in London. For most of the story, his parents are away, and we never see him in school, with a tutor, or with other kids, so he gets into a lot of minor mischief like adopting a wild snake. His primary supervision consists of two servants: Mr. Baines (Ralph Richardson), whom he reveres for spinning exciting yarns; and Mrs. Baines (Sonia Dresdel), whom he hates for being a strict caretaker. Philippe observes insufficiently stealthy meetings between Mr. Baines and a young woman (Michèle Morgan) he subsequently claims is his niece. To less innocent eyes, it's obvious why they don't want Mrs. Baines to see them together. Philippe believes he can keep a secret, but Mrs. Baines is too suspicious to remain in the dark for long....
Since both IMDb and Netflix give away a key event in the second half, so will I: Mrs. Baines falls to an untimely death. Philippe sees only part of what happens and thinks Mr. Baines responsible, which scares him, but he still doesn't want Mr. Baines to get in trouble for it. Alas, the boy's naive attempts at protection only weaken the case; despite having had the means, motive, and opportunity, Mr. Baines isn't even a suspect until after certain statements by Philippe. (In fairness, Mr. Baines' initial lies to omit his mistress don't help either.)
IMDb lists "mystery" among the genres, but I can't get behind that. If you're not Philippe, the conflict doesn't take long to make itself plain, and the audience sees exactly what happens to Mrs. Baines. Only minor details ever threatened to escape me.
Frankly, I'm not sure about the "thriller" classification either. Sure, tensions rise, death occurs, and a man must worry about getting charged with murder; but too much of the sense of thrills relies on music and camerawork. In the hands of many other directors, this would be just a drama.
Even the title is a bit iffy. Philippe seems to continue liking Mr. Baines and never fully understands what he has and hasn't done. The only merited disappointment is in learning that his tales of personal derring-do were fictional. I half-prefer the alternate title, The Lost Illusion, tho it's more generic.
Probably the most impressive thing about this movie is how convincing Henrey turned out. Reportedly, he was inattentive and lousy even by child actor standards, but Reed's extraordinary patience and ingenuity made up for that. (Glad they didn't have him overdubbed by a woman like that other French-accented boy in Charade.) Perhaps this is why, at the Academy Awards for the year, Reed was nominated for Best Director but TFI was not nominated for Best Picture. (Greene also got a nod for the screenplay.)
Your reaction to the film may well depend on your reaction to little kids who mean no harm but, with their simple minds, complicate things anyway. To me, Philippe is both endearing and annoying. Overall, I give pretty high marks to TFI, just not sky-high like many British film fans.
No comments:
Post a Comment