Gone to Earth (1950)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Gone to Earth (1950) – M. Powell & E. Pressburger

The Archers (Michael Powell & Emeric Pressburger) declared this a success (by having the arrow hit the bullseye before the opening credits) and it does achieve a certain sense of time and place (with some beautiful Technicolor images) as their best work does (e.g., Black Narcissus, I Know Where I’m Going!, The Red Shoes, etc. etc.). Jennifer Jones (then wife of executive producer David O. Selznick who took the finished film and drastically re-cut it, releasing it as The Wild Heart, an inferior version) plays Hazel Woodus, a naïve young girl, daughter of the local harp player, who is courted by both the mild-mannered local parson (Cyril Cusack) and the randy local squire (David Farrar). Impetuously, she can’t make up her mind (even after being married) and seemingly prefers the world of animals to humans, especially her pet fox, who is under threat from the squire and his fox-hunting mates.  It’s a small film, situated in a folksy backwoods part of Scotland (I think), where some locals believe in the world of faeries and their magic while others have devoted themselves to Christianity. If I were a young girl, I might be entranced by the romantic angle but this left me a little cold despite appreciating Hazel’s confusion and ambivalence toward being loved and controlled.  The ending is quite a doozy however and worth the price of admission!

 

Champion (1949)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Champion (1949) – M. Robson

Less a film-noir than a straightforward morality tale, but with the fight game as its vehicle, I guess it fits with other films in the genre such as The Set-Up (1949) or Body and Soul (1947). But Kirk Douglas, as the boxer who rises from poverty to the championship, seems unambiguously selfish and uncaring – there isn’t a fatal mistake that he makes to bring on film noir’s downbeat consequences but rather his whole approach to life is to tread on other people.  In that way, his downfall feels more like comeuppance or just desserts; the terrible fickle finger of fate that so often strikes down noir protagonists doesn’t appear here – instead we come to hate Douglas, although perhaps we also feel pity since he can’t seem to shake his anger at being abandoned by his father as a child and looked down upon by others because of his poverty. The film clearly identifies this anger as the source of his success as a boxer but it is sad that he can’t reciprocate the caring and support he receives from those around him: his brother (Arthur Kennedy), his manager (Paul Stewart), and his first love (Ruth Roman). He lets them all down in his quest for fame and status. As directed by Mark Robson (previously part of producer Val Lewton’s stable of directors), the film is well-paced with some quirky montage scenes (of training) before the going gets grim. Stanley Kramer produced but this is before his pictures became too message-heavy. With all these caveats in mind, the film still stands out as a showcase for the talents of the up-and-coming Kirk Douglas – his charisma knows no bounds and he offers a brave performance that isn’t afraid to embrace the anti-hero.