My Favorite Movies: The Night of the Hunter (1955)

The Night of the Hunter is one of the few films that has been firmly cemented into the critical consciousness without ever having been widely recognized by audiences. Anyone who sees it will never forget it, but so few people see it. It was a movie against type. It featured styles and techniques that were incredibly new alongside ones that dated back to the silent era. German expressionism, the style used in films like Nosferatu and The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, was resurrected in an alarmingly Southern American setting. Most alarmingly, the film is decidedly unconventional, playing out in its own curious world with little care as to whether or not the audience is keeping up with it.

Charles Laughton had been one of the most successful British actors, starring in numerous popular American movies throughout the 30s and 40s. With The Night of the Hunter, he was giving directing a go for the first and only time. He had purchased the rights to a ridiculous novel of the same name and commissioned James Agee to write the screenplay. Reports say that Agee was in the darkest stages of drunkenness at the time and that Laughton changed much of the script himself. Agee died before the film was released.

The cast of the film is strange and varied. As two kids with a big secret, there are James Gleason and Evelyn Varden, who, quite frankly, are never altogether convincing as actors, but can perhaps be excused as children. Then there is Shelley Winters as the woman driven half-mad by the execution of her criminal husband and willing to give into the first seemingly good thing that comes along. Also giving what is oddly enough one of the finest performances of her career is Lillian Gish, former silent star who is more than praise-worthy in her sound appearance here.

Robert Mitchum was cast in the lead as a sinister preacher bent on seeking out a treasure hidden by one of his prison mates. Mitchum starred in this film at a point in time when he was still more or less a recognizable star, but had not appeared in a major Hollywood motion picture for years, having been more famously involved in a drug scandal. It is perhaps this history that makes his performance so believable. Harry Powell is a downright evil character and one that would have never worked without Mitchum behind it.

If the film had been made today, this character would not have been so exaggerated or so theatrical, probably toned down to a dismissible slasher. Powell is more than just a killer or a thief and cannot be described with any such narrow moniker. It is even debatable if he is crazy or not. Shown having actual conversations with God that usually concern the need to wipe out sin in ways God would not have actually approved, Powell seems to have created a loophole in Earthly morality. He considers himself above the logic of a world that would consider most of his actions wrong, because he is excusing them with divine authority he does not possess.

I think the fact alone that Powell is such a wicked character and a preacher is part of what makes the character so memorable. This film was released not long after the removal of the Hayes code which had previously limited Hollywood’s ability to put anything remotely offensive into their movies, including the appearance of a man of God who was anything less than pure. The most memorable thing about the character, though, is his speech about good and bad as demonstrated by the words “love” and “hate” that have been tattooed on either hand. There are a great many film fans who can quote this scene without faltering.

The most frightening thing about The Night of the Hunter is the bizarre world it creates. It does not take place in reality, but in a sort of dream. It is said that it was always the intention that the film create what would be perceived as a children’s nightmare and many images support this. The first time Harry Powell turns up anywhere near the children is when his shadow is very suddenly cast onto the wall of their room. He stands outside their house ominously singing the hymn “Leaning on the Everlasting Arms.”

I actually find it a bit strange that nobody ever really comments on the fact that this movie features children in genuine danger. This was certainly uncommon for its time and remains so today. The scene where Powell chases the children is really quite horrifying. They escape his grasp in a makeshift boat, but only barely. Another iconic image is that of the children sleeping in someone’s barn as Reverend Powell is riding a horse past them in the distance. The boy looks on in awe and asks a good question: “Don’t he ever sleep?” Monsters seldom do.

There seems to be some debate in the critical world as to whether or not the ending is appropriate. Not to spoil anything, but the movie does conclude cheerfully. Brother Love conquers Brother Hate, partly with the help of the Lillian Gish character. I think the scene in which Gish, gun in tow, defiantly sings back at Powell is one of the most chilling in the film, but because it is so triumphant. Others don’t see how a Sunday school lesson is the right climax to a horror story, but they are missing the point. The film’s intention is not only to terrify us, but mainly to inspire. Can you imagine how cruel it would have been to end the film the only other possible way?

When it was released back in 1955, nobody liked it. It was far too unusual and different. Audiences and critics alike had no idea what to do with it, and it sank into obscurity. Many years later, it received a renewal of interest, and is now often referred to as one of the greatest movies ever made. Despite this, it is a still relatively unknown picture. Perhaps if audiences had realized how great it was sooner, Laughton would have made other masterpieces. Instead, he cut himself off from the industry almost entirely and died seven years later. Thankfully, his brilliant, haunting, and only work has been well preserved through the years and can be enjoyed regularly by those who know it.