One of the most delicious thrills for many British and American moviegoers in 1946 was the unexpected sight of James Mason thwacking down his cane on the fingers of Ann Todd as she played the piano. This one scene is probably better remembered than the movie itself. The Seventh Veil was one of the first British movies to deal with psychiatry; it made a lot of money in both countries; it helped propel Mason to Hollywood; and it undoubtedly is one of the great women's melodramas in movies. Surprisingly, after more than 60 years the movie still holds up reasonably well, thanks to Mason and Todd. Please note that elements of the plot are discussed
Women's melodrama? Just hear the names of the two leads...Nicholas and Francesca. If those names don't sound like characters in a steamy Regency romance, what would? But the movie actually is a modern (from the Forties) study of a severely shy young woman's repressed need for love, and her guardian's overbearing need to live his life's dream through her and her talent as a pianist. Francesca's mother had died when she was a child. Her father placed her in a boarding school. When he died, she was 15 and was sent to live with her wealthy guardian in a large London mansion. Francesca was timid, talented at the piano, so unsure of herself at times that she could barely speak. Nicholas, probably 20 years older, was her second cousin. He lived alone in his mansion with only male servants. He was lame, brooding, controlling and a misogynist. One afternoon he learns Francesca can play the piano and slowly entices her to play for him by playing himself. As he listens to her we can see that he is recognizing a rare talent that he most likely, however competent he might be, can never equal. "He was a wonderful teacher," she later says. "He used to say rather bitterly, 'Those who can, do. Those who can't, teach.'" He drives her mercilessly for years to train her to excel, and he succeeds. "He never let me out of his sight for seven years," she tells us, "It was seven years of music...of Nicholas turning me into his dream."
We learn all this in a series of flashbacks because we first meet Francesca in a hospital after she has attempted to kill herself. She lies mute in bed, seemingly unaware of anything around her. When finally a psychiatrist, Dr. Larsen (Herbert Lom, wearing a scholarly pince- nez), is brought into the case, he slowly encourages her to speak and tell her story. He tells a colleague that the process is much like the removal of the seven veils, with each dropped veil revealing a bit more, and that the removal of the seventh veil will let us know the patient's truest feelings and desires. And so Francesca tells us in flashback how Nicholas drove her to become a gifted, recognized pianist, how he controlled every aspect of her life, how she thought she had fallen in love with two men and how Nicholas had reacted each time. Finally, Dr. Larsen is able to help Francesca through this. At the conclusion, as she walks down the grand staircase in Nicholas' mansion with Dr. Larsen and the three men waiting below, we know that, as Larsen has warned them, Francesca has become a new woman who will go to the man among them whom she loves and trusts. And as she goes down those stairs, smiling and confident, Nicholas knows that the man Larsen described cannot be him. He quietly limps away and closes the door to his study behind him. Care to guess what Francesca does next?
The movie still works, despite the now clunky approach to psychiatry, repressed love and inner-most feelings, because of James Mason and Ann Todd. Todd was a cool, finely- sculpted blonde who, at 36, had to convincingly play a young woman between the ages of 15 and about 24. She just about carries it off. She also has to carry the narrative weight of the movie, since all we know is largely from her flashback monologues and her scenes in the film. Mason, however, dark and handsome, dominates the movie. He isn't just glowering, brooding and tormented. There is an element of sadistic insistence in his portrayal of Nicholas that keeps us off balance. If Nicholas had ever reached the point of doing some bodice ripping, there would have been a lot of females in the audience sighing in anticipation.
Women's melodrama? Just hear the names of the two leads...Nicholas and Francesca. If those names don't sound like characters in a steamy Regency romance, what would? But the movie actually is a modern (from the Forties) study of a severely shy young woman's repressed need for love, and her guardian's overbearing need to live his life's dream through her and her talent as a pianist. Francesca's mother had died when she was a child. Her father placed her in a boarding school. When he died, she was 15 and was sent to live with her wealthy guardian in a large London mansion. Francesca was timid, talented at the piano, so unsure of herself at times that she could barely speak. Nicholas, probably 20 years older, was her second cousin. He lived alone in his mansion with only male servants. He was lame, brooding, controlling and a misogynist. One afternoon he learns Francesca can play the piano and slowly entices her to play for him by playing himself. As he listens to her we can see that he is recognizing a rare talent that he most likely, however competent he might be, can never equal. "He was a wonderful teacher," she later says. "He used to say rather bitterly, 'Those who can, do. Those who can't, teach.'" He drives her mercilessly for years to train her to excel, and he succeeds. "He never let me out of his sight for seven years," she tells us, "It was seven years of music...of Nicholas turning me into his dream."
We learn all this in a series of flashbacks because we first meet Francesca in a hospital after she has attempted to kill herself. She lies mute in bed, seemingly unaware of anything around her. When finally a psychiatrist, Dr. Larsen (Herbert Lom, wearing a scholarly pince- nez), is brought into the case, he slowly encourages her to speak and tell her story. He tells a colleague that the process is much like the removal of the seven veils, with each dropped veil revealing a bit more, and that the removal of the seventh veil will let us know the patient's truest feelings and desires. And so Francesca tells us in flashback how Nicholas drove her to become a gifted, recognized pianist, how he controlled every aspect of her life, how she thought she had fallen in love with two men and how Nicholas had reacted each time. Finally, Dr. Larsen is able to help Francesca through this. At the conclusion, as she walks down the grand staircase in Nicholas' mansion with Dr. Larsen and the three men waiting below, we know that, as Larsen has warned them, Francesca has become a new woman who will go to the man among them whom she loves and trusts. And as she goes down those stairs, smiling and confident, Nicholas knows that the man Larsen described cannot be him. He quietly limps away and closes the door to his study behind him. Care to guess what Francesca does next?
The movie still works, despite the now clunky approach to psychiatry, repressed love and inner-most feelings, because of James Mason and Ann Todd. Todd was a cool, finely- sculpted blonde who, at 36, had to convincingly play a young woman between the ages of 15 and about 24. She just about carries it off. She also has to carry the narrative weight of the movie, since all we know is largely from her flashback monologues and her scenes in the film. Mason, however, dark and handsome, dominates the movie. He isn't just glowering, brooding and tormented. There is an element of sadistic insistence in his portrayal of Nicholas that keeps us off balance. If Nicholas had ever reached the point of doing some bodice ripping, there would have been a lot of females in the audience sighing in anticipation.