a ghost of a chance with you ...

     The Ghost and Mrs. Muir. Twentieth Century-Fox Film Corporation; produced by Fred Kohlmar; screenplay by Philip Dunne; directed by Joseph L. Mankiewicz; director of photography, Charles Lang, Jr.; music, Bernard Herrmann. Burbank, Calif. Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, [2013]. Originally produced as a motion picture in 1947. From the novel by R.A. Dick (pseud. Josephine Leslie).
    Performers: Gene Tierney, Rex Harrison, George Sanders, Natalie Wood, Vanessa Brown, Edna Best, Anna Lee, Robert Coote. Special features: commentaries by Greg Kimble, Christopher Husted, Jeanine Bassinger and Kenneth Geist; biography: "Rex Harrison: the man who would be king"; theatrical trailer; still gallery. Summary: at the turn of the century a young widow and her daughter move into a cottage on the English coast. Soon she learns that the cottage is haunted by the ghost of its former owner, a sea captain. When he finds he can't scare her away, they soon fall into a most unlikely love affair.


    Dating as it does from an era rife with ghost movies (most of them silly comedies), The Ghost and Mrs. Muir, along with The Uninvited, is my favorite [1]. That being said, I reluctantly admit that in my most recent viewing I was somewhat less taken with Mrs. Muir than I had been in the past. Still, the film is a triumph, an under the radar gem that has crept up in critical and popular esteem over the years. Update: a second viewing, this one with the superb commentary by Greg Kimble and Christopher Husted, has inspired me to warm to the film a little more and further appreciate its many felicities, albeit within its historical and stylistic context. By the way, I’m less enthusiastic about the second commentary track by Jeanine Bassinger and Kenneth Geist.

    But getting back to ghost movies: curious that so few reviewers and commentators note the obvious parallels to The Uninvited [2]. Both are gothicized tales set on the English sea coast, both have the requisite haunted house (and attendant film noirish look), both deal with issues of love beyond death, both are set in the early Twentieth Century [3], and, perhaps most important, both treat their subjects seriously (though Mrs. Muir has its share of lighter moments). Both films also reflect the unseen presence of Orson Welles, and both are obvious first cousins to the Val Lewton supernatural noir thrillers of the 1940s. But despite the similarities in content and even style, somehow the tone is different. Partly this is a result of director Joseph L. Mankiewicz’s emphasis on words and script, thus Mrs. Muir has a more writerly and dialogue-rich sheen, especially the snappy back and forth between Harrison and Tierney. As mentioned above, Mrs. Muir is almost a comedy, but, happily, not quite. It pulls off its comic elements with pitch perfect timing, never overstaying the welcome. In contrast, Uninvited’s attempts at humor seem heavy footed and out of place.
   

    In any case, the performances in Mrs. Muir are all right on the money. It took me a while to warm to Rex Harrison, but I think he got better as the film progressed and the character softened. However, it’s Gene Tierney’s movie and, for me, the performance of a career. Her Brit accent sounds authentic enough, and the subtleties she brings to the character are a wonder. I think her acting is even better as the elderly Lucy Muir, who gets more sympathetic as she ages while at the same time becomes crankier. And of course George Sanders is terrific in a very George Sanders type of role as the charming cad. That he could put across this kind of character in his sleep shouldn’t lessen our appreciation of his marvelous portrayal. Among the supporting cast especial mention must be made of Vanessa Brown as the adult version of Anna. Echt-English in appearance and accent, she’s just right, and I wish she’d had a bigger role. The short scene between her and Tierney is perhaps the most moving in the entire film. As Herrmann’s score wafts in the background, they talk about the ghost, life and love, and it’s hard to hold back the tears. Finally, amongst the supporting players, if you like, there’s the seemingly inevitable cute yorkie in a movie with this setting and era (there’s also a cute yorkie in Uninvited, by the way).

     Bernard Herrmann’s music for Mrs. Muir (reputedly his personal favorite among his film scores) has been praised to the skies, deservingly so. Alas, my DVD copy frequently minimized the music or in some cases rendered it inaudible, buried as it were beneath the dialogue. This is especially unfortunate since the obscured passages are among the most exquisite in the entire film. Anyhow the music’s low keyed eloquence suggests a longing for the infinite, a love beyond death that’s the raison dêtre for the entire story. Indeed it’s not too much of an exaggeration to say the music really carries the movie, more than any other element. There’s a feeling of melancholy that, if you’ll pardon the pun, haunts the entire film, and the music perfectly expresses and contributes to this sense of longing, regret and unrequitedness. In contrast, Victor Young’s lushly romantic score for Uninvited, perfect in its way, really can’t compare – in style or aesthetic merit.
    To summarize, The Ghost and Mrs. Muir is a perfectly wonderful movie: it brings together all the elements to form a near flawless work of art. In doing so it represents what was best about moviemaking in the studio era.   

[1]  As readers of this blog must divine, I’m a big fan of the above-mentioned Val Lewton psychological horror films from the 1940s, and though it’s a subtle point, I consider them a different animal from both Mrs. Muir and Uninvited: for all their spooky, ghost like ambience, the Lewton films have no ghosts, in fact only a couple of them have overtly supernatural elements, and even these are depicted ambiguously enough to be arguable.     
[2]  Another explanation for the similarity of the films, at least in their look, is the presence of ace cameraman Charles Lang, who did the cinematography for both. Even so, Mrs. Muir has somewhat lighter, crisper visuals than Uninvited, the gloomier look of which is very much appropriate for the dark psychological undercurrents. A personal note: I admire and greatly enjoy both films, but at the moment lean towards Uninvited, but only by a whisker.
[3] Yes, it’s pushing it to say both date from more or less the same era, since Uninvited is set in 1937 and Mrs. Muir ca. 1900. And yet, much of the culture, architecture, and Victorian/Edwardian attitudes are cut from the same cloth.