The madness in this movie, as portrayed by Sister Ruth, is the best acting I have ever seen for this condition. It's too bad the actress could not be successful in Hollywood because she was typecast into playing only neurotic women. It certainly gives us insight into why so many priests, otherwise good men, have fallen so low as to abuse small boys. If a lush environment, so brilliantly built on a set in London, can drive nuns mad, it's easier to understand how the abnormal state of celibacy can do that to young men, arrested at the very age when their sex drives are the strongest.
Deborah Kerr does an excellent job as the equally repressed Mother Superior, who learns that to be in her position, she must serve others. And indeed she does, sitting with the insane nun through the night, even though it's obvious that the woman is about to do something drastic to herself or to others. The effect of the beauty of the castle high in the Himalyans is sufficient to drive one mad, and the others to increasingly higher states of agitation, which is somewhat difficult to understand. It's easier to believe that the privation on these English nuns of being in a primitive land, with only basic medical skills to treat a suspicious native population, would be enough to drive them back to relative normalcy in India.
When the baby dies, the die is cast. The people refuse to attend school, and such was obviously the case with the monks who had tried to gain in foothold high in the mountains at this palace years before. We are never given to understand why Mr. Dean is there, a handsome David Farrar. The commentary indicates that he turned his back on acting several years later and Mr. Powell seems to admire him for it. He may have quit after seeing himself looking ridiculous on those small ponies, in those short shorts.
Nonetheless, he's very sexy and the scene where he turns Jean Simmons over to the nuns is palpable with chemistry. Having several similar scenes with Deborah Kerr, especially when you understand WHY she is a nun, the movie shows remarkable restraint when the director does NOT allow a passionate kiss at the end. Just a handshake, with her hand turned upward, interestingly enough.
This movie has been given rave reviews for how much could be suggested with a combination of painted sets and a few bamboo plantings in the Pinewood Studios. Indeed, those artists should have received the same Academy awards the cinematographer and director did. The lighting indeed gave a more eerie Gothic feel to the old castle at night. The climatic scene in which the mad nun vibrating with fury, slashes on her bright lipstick while Kerr starts reading the Bible, is unforgettable.
The scriptwriter did an excellent job as well, injecting humor as Shakespeare would have him do, to give a little relief from the building tension. Knowing that the little boy translator was an Indian that Powell 'picked up at the London docks' along with the other extras, made his acting even more impressive. With none of the technological tricks that modern movie makers have, Powell created a work of art and a movie for the ages.
Come to think of it, the range of electronic tricks, the CGI fakery, that directors have to call upon today probably prevent them from substituting excellent writing and great set design to create lasting art, instead of movies for non-discriminating kids. At least, they divert them from focusing on what could make a story idea sparkle and impress.
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