Sofa surfing and celluloid…
WHAT IS FILM CLUB?
Saturday was another belated entry in 2009’s Film Club. What is Film Club? As its name broadly trumpets, it’s simply a selection of movies chosen by a small group of friends. Nothing radical there, though these aren’t just any old movies, but ones to selected to fit set themes; then screened in a random, just out-of-the-hat fashion. It’s also a rather elaborate excuse – not that one’s needed – for your humble servant to get busy in the kitchen, ideally conjuring up some top nosh that reflects or pays reference to the movie in question, the dining table designed as a forum for post-movie discussion.
So, at the dawn of 2009, five big themes were selected: black and white, food, drink, music and sport. It’s telling that nine months have passed and we’ve only got on to the fifth of these – though not always for want of trying. Another fundamental rule of Film Club is that screenings are postponed if any of the congregation has imbibed more than two (alcoholic) drinks before we press play (a rule, one suspects, is vicariously flouted by certain parties when they’re simply not in the mood), and this has scuppered many recent attempts. But with autumn’s dark nights almost upon us, chances are we’ll make it at least two-thirds through the list before the year’s end. And so to business…
Category: Black and white
Year: 1955
Length: 93 minutes
Chooser: KC
Based on David Grubb’s international bestseller of the same name, The Night Of The Hunter draws on the true story of Harry Powers, hanged in 1932 for the murders of two widows and three children in Clarksburg, West Virginia.
Adapted by director Charles Laughton and screenwriter James Agee, Powers becomes Ben Harper (Peter Graves), who manages to deposit his stolen bounty of $10,000 with his nine-year-old son, John, and four-year-old daughter, Pearl, just before the police haul him off to the cells. Sentenced to death by hanging for his crime, his last days are spent sharing a cell with Harry Powell (Robert Mitchum) – a wonderfully wayward and charismatic preacher – doing a brief stretch for an invidious spot of car theft.
Mitchum’s Powell is a captivating and classic cinema villain, instantly recognisable for his trilby with its tilted brim and the brash LOVE and HATE tattooed on his knuckles (more on these in a moment). As Harper starts talking in his sleep Powell is already trying to connive a way of finding out where he’s hidden the money, and resolves to pursue the treasure as soon as he’s released. In one memorable short soliloquy he toys with his trademark flick knife, praising his creator for his imminent good fortune: “Lord, you sure knowed what you was doin’ when you put me in this very cell at this very time. A man with $10,000 hid somewhere and a widow in the makin’!”
It’s not long before he’s worming his way into Harper’s widow’s affections (Willa, another fine turn by Shelley Winters); though the children seem to instantly divine that his intentions are far from honourable. One of many beautifully shot scenes is Powell turning up at their house during the night, reciting the traditional hymn Leaning On The Everlasting Arms: “Leaning, leaning/Safe and secure from all alarms/Leaning, leaning/Leaning on the everlasting arms!” It’s a recurring musical motif during his dogged pursuit of the cash and one that lives in the memory long afterwards.
Powell soon manages to overwhelm Willa with his hellfire sermons, scriptures and hymns, though John maintains a loyal antipathy, even in the face of Powell’s arch demonstration of the medicine show, The Sermon Of Life, in which his tattooed hands interlock in a schizophrenic wrestling match. “These fingers, dear hearts, is always a-warrin’ and a-tuggin’, one again the other,” he clarifies. “Now, watch ’em. Ol’ brother Left Hand. Left Hand, he’s a-fightin’. And it looks like LOVE’s a goner. But wait a minute, wait a minute! Hot dog! LOVE’s a winnin’? Yes, siree. It’s LOVE that won, and ol’ Left Hand HATE is down for the count!”
With almost indecent haste, Willa and Powell are married, though any carnal designs the former was harbouring are soon put paid to on their honeymoon night as Powell declares, in full preacher mode, that sex is sinful. Thankfully, in his twisted world view, murder and child torture isn’t, and after his fabled flick knife does for Willa he begins an involved cross country chase of the fleeing John and Pearl that propels the film firmly into thriller territory (with a bit of David Attenborough thrown into the visual melting pot).
Remarkable in many ways, The Night Of The Hunter was a flop on its release. Laughton’s decision to film in black and white, when colour was just in vogue, may be a contributing factor, but there also seems to have been resistance to the German Expressionist styles – odd camera angles, distorted shadows, strange sets – winningly favoured by cinematographer Stanley Cortez. And while The Night of The Hunter proved to be Laughton’s one and only film in the director’s chair, it has abided and endured better than most.
WHAT TO EAT
We're talking good ol’ fashioned southern fare here, so it has to be hearty. There's a scene in the film where the fabulously named Icey Spoon (Evelyn Varden), proprietor of the local ice cream parlour, prepares supper for the recently bereaved Powell and his brood – southern roast chicken, baked sweet potatoes, collard greens and the ubiquitous corn bread, so that's as good a place to start as any. You'll need some homemade ice cream to follow too, and maybe a warming shot of Southern Comfort with your post-picture coffee.
NB: Due to a late scheduling change this was a major missed opportunity on the grub front so we settled for equally scrumptious homemade pizzas – bases from a recipe by the River Cottage's Daniel Stevens (River Cottage Handbook No 3: Bread) and Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall’s roast tomato sauce, topped with figs and goat cheese plus an improvised blue cheese and broccoli calzone. Both hit the spot.
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