The Night of the Hunter: A Surreal Vision of Childhood

Charles Laughton's The Night of the Hunter is one of the great nightmare visions of cinema. It alternates between the real and surreal yet (unlike something by, say, David Lynch) never indulges in the grotesque or obscene. Many scenes contain imagery inspired by German expressionism of the silent era, however it is a work that is uniquely American (this in itself is interesting considering Laughton was British). It is a horror story where the monster is one that Christ himself warned of--the wolf in sheep's clothing.

The story takes place in the rural south during the Great Depression. Though one would not confuse this with Capra's Depression era America, it could easily be mistaken for William Faulkner's or (even more appropriately) Flannery O'Connor's. The preacher Harry Powell (Robert Mitchum, in his best performance) roams from town to town looking for rich widows to marry and dispose of, taking their money when he leaves and continuing on to do what he believes is the Lord's will. Powell is leaving his latest victim in his wake when he gets picked up by the police for stealing a car and is sentenced to 30 days in prison.

While in prison Powell shares a cell with Ben Harper (Peter Graves) who has been sentenced to death for robbery and murder. Before he was caught, Harper had his children, John (Billy Chapin) and Pearl (Sally Jane Bruce), help him hide the money he stole, and Powell soon finds this out. Once Harper is hung and Powell is released, he finds and marries Harper's widow Willa (Shelley Winters) and attempts, subtly at first then blatantly, to get the children to reveal the location of the stolen money. John does not trust Powell, and struggles to keep his sister Pearl on his side. Unfortunately, it is not long after their disastrous wedding night (Powell refuses to make love with Willa, and makes her ashamed to have thought of it) that Powell has Willa buying in to his perverted religious beliefs.

Though Willa thinks the best of her new husband (on their wedding night she finds a switch blade in his coat pocket and merely rolls her eyes as if to say "Oh the silly things men do"), she overhears him trying to extract the information from Pearl. The scene that follows, where Powell kills Willa, is the most terrifying and visually exciting in the entire film. Willa lies in bed, the bed itself slightly off center. The room that surrounds her is constructed and lit to invoke the interior of a small church. Powell stands above her as Willa explains that she now understands what is going on, that he only married her to get the money. This scene owes much to German expressionism (particularly The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari) with its sharp angles and intentional use of shadow and lighting (Willa is posed and lit to appear that she is already in a coffin). As she talks, Powell reaches to the sky as if calling down the wrath of the Lord, an exaggerated gesture that (like the set) would be at home in the silent cinema.

After Powell has killed their mother, the children escape from him in a boat and travel along a river to safety. The sequence is the most dreamlike in the entire film, with the stars in the sky and the wildlife along the riverbanks shot to appear larger than life. The surreal images are unsettling, and it would be easy to write Laughton off as indulgent in these scenes. Yet how else would a child in these circumstances see the world?

The children travel for an uncertain amount of time, with Powell following close behind. Fortunately, they happen upon the strict yet loving shepherd of lost children, Rachel Cooper (Lillian Gish). Unfortunately for Powell she is a much stronger woman than her elderly demeanor would suggest. Gish's character provides a welcome moral center and sense of security that had been missing up to this point in the story (even the most well meaning of adults, up to this point, have been either naive or weak).

When Powell comes for the children, he sits outside Rachel's house waiting for his moment to strike. As he waits he sings the hymn "Leaning on the Everlasting Arms." Sitting in her rocking chair, with her shot gun in hand, Rachel does not hesitate to join Powell in his song. The scene is powerful because of the performances. Both characters are singing the same song, yes, but one with complete sincerity, the other with subtle irony.

Mitchum brings an intensity and charisma to his preacher-murderer that makes it easy to see why a young widow in need of a father figure for her children would trust this man. The most famous scene in the film is where he tells the story of brother right hand and brother left hand. With the words "LOVE" and "HATE" tattooed on his knuckles he arms wrestles with himself and tells the story with the earnestness of a televangelist. If you doubt the power of Mitchum's performance, try to think of another actor of his generation that would make "Leaning on the Everlasting Arms" sound sinister.

Shelley Winter's Willa is so devoid of personality in her early scenes that her sudden shift from concerned mother to religious fanatic in the name of Harry Powell seems perfectly natural. The actors who possibly have the most screen time are the children. Billy Chapin, as John, brings a sincerity to the role that is entirely necessary for a boy who wants to live up to his father's expectations but does not know how. Sally Jane Bruce, as Pearl, has an oddness of both face and voice that might be distracting in another movie but is entirely appropriate for this material.

The Night of the Hunter was not successful when it was released, and Laughton never directed another film. Thankfully it has since found a cult following on video and television and has gone on to inspire a generation of filmmakers including Martin Scorsese, Terrence Malick, and Spike Lee (who included an homage to the left hand right hand sequence in Do the Right Thing). Hopefully continued critical attention will encourage viewers to seek out what Pauline Kael called "one of the most frightening movies ever made." Watching it now, more than a half century after it was released, one can't help but agree with Ms. Kael.