Rarely does a 60 year-old b&w unheralded movie get the number of raves from the grassroots this one does. And it's deserved. The Powell-Pressburger film is more than a cult favorite. The producer-director-writers have raised a rather unexceptional premise to artistic levels, through superior acting, location, screenplay, and cinematography. If there's a questionable side, it may be the abrupt shift in technique once Joan (Hiller) reaches the island. Her journey from the city is rapid and occasionally cartoonish in contrast to the slowly paced naturalism of the island. Perhaps, the shift intends to contrast competing life styles.
Speaking of photographic values, in my book, the visuals are a clear object lesson in the power of b&w to capture moods beyond the reach of color photography. Consider the stark poetry of those spectral images projected against the rugged island coastline. These are dream-like textures that the literalism of color simply cannot reproduce. Moreover, the power of these images to call forth a shadow world beneath the sweeping natural vistas remains a memorably artistic feature. Done in color, the film would have lacked that distinctive extra dimension.
It's hard too, to say enough about how casually and effectively local color is blended into the narrative. From the folksy bus ride where we learn a lot about the two romantic rivals, to the monolithic castles of a distant past still stubbornly present, to an untamed countryside where eagles still roam and pillage, the settings remain indelibly unique. But most of all, there's the community dance. It's like a boisterous celebration of life and the common folk where past and present meet in joyous abandon. And it's to those compelling bonds of community and good feeling, of which Thorquil (Livesey) is a part, that Joan is drawn despite her mercenary ambitions. Thus, the two islands become not just two spots on the map, but two poles of competing values, magnetic attractions between which the city girl is torn. All in all, the movie's screenplay underscores an intensely human theme.
I agree with those reviewers who have trouble with Hiller's bewitching allure. She's one heck of a capable actress. Still, she reminds me of a British Katherine Hepburn with the same sort of sharp edges. The question here is not whether she's attractive or not. She is. Rather the problem is whether she has the kind of allure that would immediately enchant a confirmed bachelor like Thorquil as apparently happens in the movie. Seems a stretch to me, unless the unassuming Thorquil's dislike for the upstart rich man Bellinger is factored in. Then we might consider Thorquil's initial courting as a way of proving his superiority to the obnoxious newcomer. The irony, of course, is that as he comes to experience Joan's sterling potential, he falls genuinely for her, and in the process helps overcome not only her limitations (false values), but his own (the family "curse").
Something should also be said of Pamela Brown's exotic Catriona. In a crafty and purposeful screenplay, she remains something of a wild card, always alone with her hounds and in the end unresolved. She clearly has designs on Thorquil and thus should resent his interest in Joan. But she demonstrates a noble nature by taking Joan under wing when Joan is in need. Thus she comes to represent the noble and untamed dimension of a land still uncorrupted by mercenary values. It's therefore well and good that she remains unattached, an enigmatic personality that defies the usual movie resolution.
The well-timed choral accompaniment is another flavorful touch. It lends a splendidly lyrical quality to what we would probably now call the simple life. And it's to that lyrical call that Joan is being drawn in spite of her headstrong nature. In fact it's a neat touch of irony how the story itself comes to contradict the confidently resolute title. Then, of course, there's the movie's dramatic centerpiece, the whirlpool that looks so real, it probably is, and the only one I've seen in a film. No doubt the effect now would be digitally done and likely overdone. Still, the real thing remains an unusual feature of an unusual movie.
It seems many professional critics downgraded the film because of its soap-sudsy plot. Nonetheless, in my book, the film amounts to a masterpiece, and a masterpiece of slyly wrought design. For like Joan, we're gradually drawn into the charmed circle of the island and people, but it's done in a cleverly understated way, rather like Livesey's low-key courting of the city girl. In fact, Livesey's performance is itself a masterpiece of slyly conveyed purpose. So, if you're like me, the film's cumulative impact sort of creeps up, until the end when I was rather surprised to note that, yes, I had just seen something really special.
