I 11
k
in Leonora and Cenci bathe innocence. playfulinnocence. Leonora and Cenci bathetogether together inplayful
Photo: Photo:Columbia Columbia
SECRET CEREMONY 'Innumerable
portrayed by
chapters of a
Joseph Losey's 38
a
textbook
of
dynamic psychology
star-studded team.' Dr. Jack Dominian latest film and decides that he must
see
reviews it
again.
rape, murder, suicide, all eminently suitable subjects for the screen. The film manages to insinuate the furtive and the forbidden and to unite all these themes in an unusual story which chronicles the response of a girl to the death of her mother. The girl Cenci, played by Mia Farrow, is met at the beginning of the film on the upper deck of a London 'bus: she displays acute distress, which we later discover is due to the death of her mother. As the 'bus moves on, she fixes her gaze on Leonora, played by Elizabeth Taylor, who has just entered. There follows a poignant silent exchange, in which the girl's need to attach herself to another woman looking like her lost parent, is brilliantly portrayed. The main theme is thus unfolded: the girl's need to replace her mother. She moves to sit near Leonora and pursues her off the 'bus into a nearby church, appropriately called St. Mary Magdalene. At this stage Leonora is not yet a reformed prostitute, but she certainly practises in that profession as the very opening shots establish. These take us into a poorly furnished room, showing her naked legs, followed a few seconds later by a departing pair of masculine lower limbs from the front door, the collection of pound notes from the mantelpiece and the removal of her blonde wig. Left alone, Leonora fixes her gaze on her wedding photograph and the picture of a ten-year old girl. This is her child who was drowned and her visits to the church and the nearby grave are regular events. Thus, in the first quarter of an hour of the film three main facts are established: Leonora is a prostitute, who has lost a young child, and is adopted in phantasy by Cenci who looks very much like the dead daughter. The scene shifts to the girl's house which, in contrast to the impoverished surroundings of Leonora's abode, is a massive, opulent, glittering mansion with innumerable rooms enveloped in a ghostly silence of emptiness and purposelessness. The film has now reached the first of many critical phases, for after nearly half an hour of silent communication, the two women are about to persuade one another to act out fully in phantasy the role of child and mother. The quality of acting makes this utterly convincing. The prostitute, puzzled and reluctant, gradually seduced by the opulence of the surroundings and influenced by the guilt of losing her own child through negligence, accepts the challenge without fully understanding it. The girl relaxes, prepares breakfast for the newly discovered mother, goes to bed with her, joins her in her bath and gives vent to her prostitution,
attempted
death, loss, grief
are
infantile needs by playing with a duck which is submerged under water. At this point the prostitute recoils in horror as she is reminded of the of her own child. These encounters continue and demonstrate how the past of each woman has produced needs which make necessary the hysterical acting out of the present. Having established some meaningful communication between them, the director now introduces us a little more deeply to Cenci's past. Why is she deserted? What is she doing living in this huge house alone? The first visitors are two elderly spinster aunts, played by Pamela Brown and Peggy Ashcroft. Their visit is punctuated by scathing, brutal remarks about the dead mother, and their envy at being excluded from the riches of the household is clearly displayed. Leonora, alarmed at their arrival, watches them from a distance as they move from room to room pilfering objets d'art. Clearly her change will receive little comfort from this pair of harridans. But their existence is the first clue to reality and she pays a visit to their antique shop disguised as the cousin of the deceased mother. She soon discovers that her ward is the only child of the first marriage in which the girl's father, who is the source of the money and the generous brother of the aunts, died when Cenci was nine. The mother remarried an American, whom she had sent packing some time ago, who turned out to be a good-for-nothing, lecherous, importuning person with a reputation for interfering with minors. Leonora, finding herself increasingly horrified by the desolation surrounding the girl's life, asks how this child could receive so little support from the two women. "Child indeed? She is twenty two" is the reply. The child she is mothering, who looks about twelve, who calls her mummy, brushes her hair, wants to sleep with her and share her bath, is a woman of twenty two. Elizabeth Taylor gasps and so does the audience. The grip of the role of saviour tightens on the prostitute?her neglectful absence caused the death of her daughter and she is now determined to remain available to another life and to protect it. But just as salvation appears at hand we are introduced to the third and final crucial figure. This is the stepfather, played by Robert Mitchum, who has just returned from America. He discovers his wife's death and no time is lost in renewing the sexually inconclusive encounter with his stepdaughter which had terminated when his wife found them in a compromising position on the kitchen table.
drowning
39
?,
tig
--TJ
The 'mother and child' phantasy deepens into a strong emotional bond of dependence upon each other? Photo: Columbia a relationship that will end in melodrama.
The demands on the audience increase sharply point. Not only do we have to grasp the complexity of the phantasy acted out between Leonora and Cenci, but we are invited to explore the girl's sexual immaturity. She longs to shed her virginity. She writes her name on the kitchen board and below it she adds the word "virgin". For her this is an identity of depersonalisation and infantility. The stepfather renews his affectionate wooing and she responds. While Leonora is praying in church, seeking the strength of the Almighty to persevere in her task, her protegee attempts afresh to seduce her stepfather. The director focuses once again on the kitchen table with the two figures crouching near it. Will she succeed this time? at this
40
We do not know, but in the next scene she romps through the house in her slip, tearing the place to pieces, overturning and slashing the furniture and finally ends in her mother's bedroom, where she pulls all the bedclothes off the bed. She lies on them, runs off to the bathroom, cuts her finger, returns, squeezes the blood on to the sheets and lies triumphantly on them. In the meantime Leonora returns and discovers the aftermath of the attempted defloration. She is determined to rescue Cenci from the clutches of the stepfather and takes her to a fabulous seaside hotel. Having dressed for dinner she awaits the arrival of Cenci, who appears .with an abdominal protuberance suggestive of a nine months' pregnancy! Harassed by this new turn of events,
Leonora colludes with this new phantasy until the stepfather insists on shattering her picture of the innocence of Cenci by describing the girl's unceasing attempts to seduce him from about the age of eleven. He admits his inability to resist her overtures but protests his own innocence. The girl is still a virgin. Leonora handles the final events superbly. The she is protecting is neither young nor innocent. Her behaviour touches her own unresolved sexuality. The farce must end. She returns to the hotel and, in a scene of mounting hysteria, tears the 'foetus' to pieces and leaves Cenci without a 'baby', the cuddly toy lying on the floor in pieces. The phantasy is over. Cenci orders Leonora to stop wearing her mother's dress and the latter leaves the hotel. The film is now drawing to its climax. Cenci is back home wearing a black dress after paying a visit to her mother's grave. She has now accepted the loss of her mother, the illusion of her pregnancy and the utter emptiness of her life. A glass of milk and the bottle of tablets tell us the end is near. She swallows them, takes a few steps and sits on a chair, just in time to hear a knock at the door. Leonora is back begging for a situation. The daughter of the house is no longer looking for a mother and with a touch of irony asks for
girl
Leonora's references. She will not employ her under any circumstances and, as her refusals mount, her life ebbs away. Leonora is leaving and Cenci makes a final attempt to recall her but no sound comes from her mouth and, as the heavy doors crash outside, she falls dead on the floor. The mourners are few. The two aunts pay their last respects in their dead sister-in-law's mink coats, which at last are their own. Leonora mourns the loss of her second child and Robert Mitchum that of his stepdaughter. Their mutual hate needs discharge and Leonora achieves this by plunging a knife into the heart of the despised man. She returns to her room and the director leaves us with her lying on the bed gazing at the ceiling. We are left with our own thoughts. We have witnessed not one but innumerable chapters of a textbook of dynamic psychology portrayed by a star-studded team. There is no doubt about the quality of acting, which is outstanding. The doubts centre on the purpose of the film. What is it all about? Why was it ever made? To entertain? To instruct? To confuse? The early writings of Freud must have caused similar feelings in their readers. It has taken half a century to accept the unconscious; the reviewer, after considerable reflection, has become convinced the film demands a second viewing.
k
in Leonora and Cenci bathe innocence. playfulinnocence. Leonora and Cenci bathetogether together inplayful
Photo: Photo:Columbia Columbia
SECRET CEREMONY 'Innumerable
portrayed by
chapters of a
Joseph Losey's 38
a
textbook
of
dynamic psychology
star-studded team.' Dr. Jack Dominian latest film and decides that he must
see
reviews it
again.
rape, murder, suicide, all eminently suitable subjects for the screen. The film manages to insinuate the furtive and the forbidden and to unite all these themes in an unusual story which chronicles the response of a girl to the death of her mother. The girl Cenci, played by Mia Farrow, is met at the beginning of the film on the upper deck of a London 'bus: she displays acute distress, which we later discover is due to the death of her mother. As the 'bus moves on, she fixes her gaze on Leonora, played by Elizabeth Taylor, who has just entered. There follows a poignant silent exchange, in which the girl's need to attach herself to another woman looking like her lost parent, is brilliantly portrayed. The main theme is thus unfolded: the girl's need to replace her mother. She moves to sit near Leonora and pursues her off the 'bus into a nearby church, appropriately called St. Mary Magdalene. At this stage Leonora is not yet a reformed prostitute, but she certainly practises in that profession as the very opening shots establish. These take us into a poorly furnished room, showing her naked legs, followed a few seconds later by a departing pair of masculine lower limbs from the front door, the collection of pound notes from the mantelpiece and the removal of her blonde wig. Left alone, Leonora fixes her gaze on her wedding photograph and the picture of a ten-year old girl. This is her child who was drowned and her visits to the church and the nearby grave are regular events. Thus, in the first quarter of an hour of the film three main facts are established: Leonora is a prostitute, who has lost a young child, and is adopted in phantasy by Cenci who looks very much like the dead daughter. The scene shifts to the girl's house which, in contrast to the impoverished surroundings of Leonora's abode, is a massive, opulent, glittering mansion with innumerable rooms enveloped in a ghostly silence of emptiness and purposelessness. The film has now reached the first of many critical phases, for after nearly half an hour of silent communication, the two women are about to persuade one another to act out fully in phantasy the role of child and mother. The quality of acting makes this utterly convincing. The prostitute, puzzled and reluctant, gradually seduced by the opulence of the surroundings and influenced by the guilt of losing her own child through negligence, accepts the challenge without fully understanding it. The girl relaxes, prepares breakfast for the newly discovered mother, goes to bed with her, joins her in her bath and gives vent to her prostitution,
attempted
death, loss, grief
are
infantile needs by playing with a duck which is submerged under water. At this point the prostitute recoils in horror as she is reminded of the of her own child. These encounters continue and demonstrate how the past of each woman has produced needs which make necessary the hysterical acting out of the present. Having established some meaningful communication between them, the director now introduces us a little more deeply to Cenci's past. Why is she deserted? What is she doing living in this huge house alone? The first visitors are two elderly spinster aunts, played by Pamela Brown and Peggy Ashcroft. Their visit is punctuated by scathing, brutal remarks about the dead mother, and their envy at being excluded from the riches of the household is clearly displayed. Leonora, alarmed at their arrival, watches them from a distance as they move from room to room pilfering objets d'art. Clearly her change will receive little comfort from this pair of harridans. But their existence is the first clue to reality and she pays a visit to their antique shop disguised as the cousin of the deceased mother. She soon discovers that her ward is the only child of the first marriage in which the girl's father, who is the source of the money and the generous brother of the aunts, died when Cenci was nine. The mother remarried an American, whom she had sent packing some time ago, who turned out to be a good-for-nothing, lecherous, importuning person with a reputation for interfering with minors. Leonora, finding herself increasingly horrified by the desolation surrounding the girl's life, asks how this child could receive so little support from the two women. "Child indeed? She is twenty two" is the reply. The child she is mothering, who looks about twelve, who calls her mummy, brushes her hair, wants to sleep with her and share her bath, is a woman of twenty two. Elizabeth Taylor gasps and so does the audience. The grip of the role of saviour tightens on the prostitute?her neglectful absence caused the death of her daughter and she is now determined to remain available to another life and to protect it. But just as salvation appears at hand we are introduced to the third and final crucial figure. This is the stepfather, played by Robert Mitchum, who has just returned from America. He discovers his wife's death and no time is lost in renewing the sexually inconclusive encounter with his stepdaughter which had terminated when his wife found them in a compromising position on the kitchen table.
drowning
39
?,
tig
--TJ
The 'mother and child' phantasy deepens into a strong emotional bond of dependence upon each other? Photo: Columbia a relationship that will end in melodrama.
The demands on the audience increase sharply point. Not only do we have to grasp the complexity of the phantasy acted out between Leonora and Cenci, but we are invited to explore the girl's sexual immaturity. She longs to shed her virginity. She writes her name on the kitchen board and below it she adds the word "virgin". For her this is an identity of depersonalisation and infantility. The stepfather renews his affectionate wooing and she responds. While Leonora is praying in church, seeking the strength of the Almighty to persevere in her task, her protegee attempts afresh to seduce her stepfather. The director focuses once again on the kitchen table with the two figures crouching near it. Will she succeed this time? at this
40
We do not know, but in the next scene she romps through the house in her slip, tearing the place to pieces, overturning and slashing the furniture and finally ends in her mother's bedroom, where she pulls all the bedclothes off the bed. She lies on them, runs off to the bathroom, cuts her finger, returns, squeezes the blood on to the sheets and lies triumphantly on them. In the meantime Leonora returns and discovers the aftermath of the attempted defloration. She is determined to rescue Cenci from the clutches of the stepfather and takes her to a fabulous seaside hotel. Having dressed for dinner she awaits the arrival of Cenci, who appears .with an abdominal protuberance suggestive of a nine months' pregnancy! Harassed by this new turn of events,
Leonora colludes with this new phantasy until the stepfather insists on shattering her picture of the innocence of Cenci by describing the girl's unceasing attempts to seduce him from about the age of eleven. He admits his inability to resist her overtures but protests his own innocence. The girl is still a virgin. Leonora handles the final events superbly. The she is protecting is neither young nor innocent. Her behaviour touches her own unresolved sexuality. The farce must end. She returns to the hotel and, in a scene of mounting hysteria, tears the 'foetus' to pieces and leaves Cenci without a 'baby', the cuddly toy lying on the floor in pieces. The phantasy is over. Cenci orders Leonora to stop wearing her mother's dress and the latter leaves the hotel. The film is now drawing to its climax. Cenci is back home wearing a black dress after paying a visit to her mother's grave. She has now accepted the loss of her mother, the illusion of her pregnancy and the utter emptiness of her life. A glass of milk and the bottle of tablets tell us the end is near. She swallows them, takes a few steps and sits on a chair, just in time to hear a knock at the door. Leonora is back begging for a situation. The daughter of the house is no longer looking for a mother and with a touch of irony asks for
girl
Leonora's references. She will not employ her under any circumstances and, as her refusals mount, her life ebbs away. Leonora is leaving and Cenci makes a final attempt to recall her but no sound comes from her mouth and, as the heavy doors crash outside, she falls dead on the floor. The mourners are few. The two aunts pay their last respects in their dead sister-in-law's mink coats, which at last are their own. Leonora mourns the loss of her second child and Robert Mitchum that of his stepdaughter. Their mutual hate needs discharge and Leonora achieves this by plunging a knife into the heart of the despised man. She returns to her room and the director leaves us with her lying on the bed gazing at the ceiling. We are left with our own thoughts. We have witnessed not one but innumerable chapters of a textbook of dynamic psychology portrayed by a star-studded team. There is no doubt about the quality of acting, which is outstanding. The doubts centre on the purpose of the film. What is it all about? Why was it ever made? To entertain? To instruct? To confuse? The early writings of Freud must have caused similar feelings in their readers. It has taken half a century to accept the unconscious; the reviewer, after considerable reflection, has become convinced the film demands a second viewing.
