Review #1,329: 'I Know Where I'm Going!' (1945)

Legendary directors Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger are best known for their glorious Technicolor achievements. Their impressive careers delivered the likes of The Thief of Bagdad, The Life and Death of Colonel Blimp, Black Narcissus, The Red Shoes and The Tales of Hoffman, all sumptuous and sweeping pictures that now feel way ahead of their time. Earlier in their careers, they were also responsible for 'smaller' films set in and around Powell's native Britain (Pressburger was born in Austria-Hungary but died in the country he spent most of his working life in). One such film, from 1945, is I Know Where I'm Going!, a charming little romantic drama set on the Scottish Hebrides.

Ambitious and headstrong young Englishwoman Joan Webster (Wendy Hiller) has known how her life will pan out ever since she was a little girl. Much to the concern of her father (George Carney), she is to marry wealthy, and much older, industrialist Sir Robert Bellinger, who owns a lavish home on the remote island of Kiloran. When she arrives by boat on a nearby island, the area is so thick with fog that to complete the last leg of her journey would be an impossible and life-threatening task. As a result, Joan is forced to wait for better weather on the Isle of Mull, where she meets handsome young naval officer Torquil MacNeil (Roger Livesey), who is on shore leave and also trying to make it to Kiloran. The weather doesn't improve, and the more time Joan spends with her new acquaintance, the more torn she becomes between ambition and love.

Powell and Pressburger made films in colour prior to 1945, but I Know Where I'm Going! isn't any less visually inspiring due to being shot in black-and-white. Cinematographer Erwin Hillier (who had worked with the directors on A Canterbury Tale) captures the Hebrides as a cold, unforgiving part of the world, lashed by constant rain storms and its inhabitants threatened by a nearby whirlpool. Yet it's also serene, untouched by the modern world, albeit invaded by unwanted rich folk. Of course, it's all a metaphor for Joan's emotions, as she decides between the calmer, gentler lands on which she currently walks or braving the dark, dangerous unknown. She claims to know just where she's going, but does her heart tell her otherwise? Events won't surprise you, but you'll be swept up in the film's flow and sentiment nevertheless. Hiller and Livesey form an attractive couple with plenty of chemistry, and Hillier's camera will have you swooning over the locations.


Directed by: Michael Powell, Emeric Pressburger
Starring: Wendy Hiller, Roger Livesey, George Carney, Pamela Brown, Finlay Currie
Country: UK

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,002: 'The Body Snatcher' (1945)

Producer Val Newton's output while working in the horror unit of RKO studios produced some of the finest American B-movies made between 1942 and 1946, delivering creepy tales that not only had the ability to frighten, but also explored the darkest regions of the human psyche, backed by gothic sets and brooding cinematography. Newton's work with Jacques Tourneur undoubtedly produced the studios best work, but even slighter films such as The Body Snatcher yearned to break out from its low-budget trappings. Reuniting horror icons Boris Karloff and Bela Lugosi for the final time, The Body Snatcher is a work of surprising complexity and sly wit.

Edinburgh, 1831, and surgeon Dr. MacFarlane (Henry Daniell) finds his work hampered by a lack of cadavers to experiment on and to use to teach his students. He is visited by Mrs. Marsh (Rita Corday), who hopes that MacFarlane's skills can help cure her paraplegic daughter and allow her to walk again. He refuses, citing the surgery as too dangerous. His young student Donald Fettes (Russell Wade) urges him to do it, but learns that the bodies required for experimentation are in short supply and the fresh cadavers brought into the school do not always come from the morgue, but instead are bought for a small price from the shady John Gray (Karloff).

With the disturbing story of Burke and Hare lurking very much in the characters minds, The Body Snatcher focuses less on the grisly work of grave-robbing and murder, and more on the destructive relationship between MacFarlane and Gray, two old acquaintances who loathe each other but have become co-dependent. MacFarlane longs to be rid of the old brute, but Gray's sadistic hold over his respected colleague means that he won't give up that easily, and soon Gray's midnight antics digging up the dead turns to murder as the city catches wind of his heinous deeds. This may be Karloff's finest performance, adding a smirk and a wicked sense of humour to his evildoer, with Daniell more than holding his own as the conflicted doctor.

Directed by Robert Wise, whose career covered almost everything from low-budget horror (The Curse of the Cat People (1944)), to hugely successful musicals (West Side Story (1961) and The Sound of Music (1965)), to sci-fi of varying quality (The Day the Earth Stood Still (1951) and Star Trek: The Motion Picture (1979)), he employs RKO's terrific sets to their maximum potential, bringing 19th century Scotland to life in all its murky glory. Lugosi always appears as one of MacFarlane's assistants, but his billing on the poster is slightly misleading given his slender screen-time. Karloff states that Newton helped resurrect his career and move him away from Universal type-casting, and, although it is still within the same genre, The Body Snatcher allows him to shake off the make-up and allow his natural screen presence to shine through.


Directed by: Robert Wise
Starring: Boris Karloff, Henry Daniell, Russell Wade, Edith Atwater, Bela Lugosi
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #436: 'Detour' (1945)

Apparently shot in six days with a budget of $20,000 (other sources claim it was up to $100,000 however), Detour was a quickie noir from director Edgar G. Ulmer made for one of Hollywood's 'poverty row' production companies. It came and went, and seemed destined for B-movie obscurity. Yet the work of director Ulmer and star Ann Savage (here playing femme fatale Vera) were re-evaluated during the 1980's and up to the modern day, and Detour has become one of the key film noirs, and I remember studying it at University amongst others. Although this isn't the greatest film noir by a long shot, it certainly one of the purest, and one that captures the tragic desperation and twisted morals of the genre's themes most convincingly.

Miserable piano player Al (Tom Neal) works for a shady nightclub with his club-singer girlfriend Sue (Claudia Drake). She packs up a leaves for the glamour of Hollywood, and soon after Al decides to join her, but has to hitch his way cross the country. He is picked up by bookie Charles Haskell Jr. (Edmund MacDonald) and the two seem to hit it off. As the rain comes down, Al pulls over to put the top up while Haskell sleeps, but when Al opens the passenger door, Haskell falls out and hits his head, killing him. Terrified the police will suspect murder, Al buries the body and flees, assuming Haskell's clothes, car, money, and identity. He picks up a hitcher named Vera (Savage) who has an acid tongue and a bad attitude, who turns out to be Haskell's previous passenger, and she smells foul play.

Nothing about this film is particularly engaging visually - it has standard camera-work and lighting - and Tom Neal is a rather plain leading man, but it's the tension, and the sheer bleakness of the proceedings that engages. The roads of America are long and winding enough to corrupt your soul, it seems, but when Al thinks he may just have gotten away with it, along comes Vera to squeeze the situation for all the dough she can. Savage's performance is full of sneering, angry swagger, and although it's a slightly one-trick performance, she is certainly memorable, both sexy and dangerous enough to chew up and spit out the majority of other femme fatales. This should be a forgettable film, and one that would usually be gathering dust in an archive somewhere, but its haunting qualities will stay with you. Certainly one of the greatest B-movies ever made, and a must-see for film noir purists.


Directed by: Edgar G. Ulmer
Starring: Tom Neal, Ann Savage, Edmund MacDonald, Claudia Drake
Country: USA

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie