I first saw this film in the 1970's and it grabbed me then. Seen again in the 1990's and now in 2010, it still grabs me - but I'm not sure I know why.
It was ahead of its time in many ways and has influenced generations of directors. Originally intended to be a suspenseful thriller, this is no longer the case. The sets and scenery, together with the 1950's acting style make this film more of a fairy tale (it has a strange and unexpectedly ethereal quality) in spite of being based on a real murder.
Robert Mitchum plays a psychopathic serial killer who presents as a preacher: 'How many is it now Lord? Six? Twelve?'. It turns out to be 25. The character is based on a real murderer of widows in the US south of the depression. He marries Shelley Winters whose husband was hanged for a murder committed during a bank robbery. He intends to extract from her two young children the location of the loot
And he doesn't just kill his new wife and leave her body among the weeds in a river. He spiritually tortures her. The children escape downstream chased by the nightmare figure of their stepfather. Everything is cruel and threatening. The country is scorched by the flames of poverty. Religion has gripped the minds of poor and uneducated and distorted them.
Charles Laughton's only release as director is notoriously difficult to categorise: part horror, part fantasy, even perhaps a film for children. It's often called film noir, though the historic, rural setting isn't all that noir, and neither is its prominent religious theme. Part of the difficulty of classification is that it is unique. Even its imitators haven't repeated its genius. Now it is usually called American Gothic, a kind of horror.
The adaptation of Davis Grubb's novel haunts the memory; it's a dreamy gallery of enchanted images. Mitchum is truly phenomenal and Billy Chapin gives one of best ever performances by a child. But its Laughton's film, the work of an auteur. It is such a regret that it is the only chance he got to direct. This is a classic of American cinema.
This film never ceases to send shivers down my spine. Clunky, dated and a bit hammy at times, the silhouette of a picket fence and that haunting voice singing an old Southern hymn is more foreboding than any CGI horror with crashing orchestration.