The Lodger

Moviecut—The Lodger

source: The Lodger

It's London's autumn of terror – 1888 – when Jack the Ripper stalked the slums of Whitechapel to eviscerate gin-soaked prostitutes and shake the capital of the British Empire to its foundations. John Brahm's movie opens on the gas-lit and fog-wreathed cobblestones, evocatively shot by Lucien Ballard, in this umpteenth recension of Marie Belloc Lowndes' evergreen chiller The Lodger (Alfred Hitchcock did a silent treatment in 1927, and Jack Palance would star in Man in the Attic in 1954 , to name but two of its closest cousins). The crafty Mrs. Lowndes may have been the first to use that surefire scare tactic `the call is coming from inside the house!' The gimmick of her story is that the fiend has a respectable face and may have taken lodgings under a respectable roof while its respectable occupants remain oblivious but imperiled. Brahm's choice of lodger is Laird Cregar, whose enormous bulk – he was six-three and 300 pounds – made him look perpetually 45, though he was only 28 when he died, shortly after making this movie. (His last, released posthumously the following year, was the somewhat similar Hangover Square, which Brahm also directed). The rooms he takes (including an attic `laboratory' complete with gas fire for his experiments) belong to Cedric Hardwicke and Sara Allgood, whose niece Merle Oberon, a music-hall star, lives there as well. When Laird is invited to attend one of Oberon's can-can numbers, he rants and raves about painted and powdered woman and finally erupts: `I can show you something more beautiful than a beautiful woman,' whereupon he produces a photograph of his dead brother, who came to ruin through consorting with wicked women (there's the merest insinuation of syphilitic insanity). Clearly, the lodger has unresolved issues. The Ripper legend and Lowndes' telling of it are so familiar it needs no retracing, save to note that George Sanders plays the smitten Scotland Yard Detective and that Brahm delivers all the expected chills. But then this German emigrant always fared better with the spooky and the Victorian than with the hard-boiled and American. The Lodger counts among his finer hours-and-a-half.

A tight, terse little black and white film about.....well, about Jack the Ripper. Prostitute victims are transformed into actresses for the film (and obviously for the Code) but it follows somewhat the modus operandi of Jack. You never see the violence, it is only implied and that works for this film. Laird Cregar is absolutely marvelous as the strange, sweating lodger who may or may not be the murderer. He was perfect for the part, with those great, brooding eyes. Sadly, he died at a very early age.....he could have gone on to greater things. Merle Oberon is lovely, of course, but in the real world she certainly would have not made it on the musical stage....can't sing (obviously dubbed), can't dance,...but that's irrelevant in the scheme of things. George Sanders, that most wonderful gentleman, doesn't get to be too suave in his part as the Scotland Yard inspector, but he is, as he always was, very good. And who could ever fault Sara Allgood, as Oberon's aunt......she never gave a bad performance in her long career.....just marvelous. This film is worth watching and you will agree that Laird Cregar is as good as it gets playing a very edgy man with some big problems!!

It began, possibly in April 1888 when a woman named Emma Smith died after being stabbed multiple times - possibly by a gang. Smith may have been a prostitute. But it really got underway in August of that year, when a prostitute named Mary Ann Nichols was killed in the East End of London. She was followed by Annie Chapman, Catherine Eddowes, Elizabeth Stride, and finally (and most horribly) Mary Jane Kelly,who was butchered (literally) by the killer in her room in November. After that, although several later killings were sometimes ascribed to the killer, the murders ceased. Nothing in this case has been universally accepted, and every "clue" has been analyzed or reanalyzed again and again. There are a myriad of suggested suspects, including the Duke of Clarence (Queen Victoria's heir and grandson), Dr. Sir William Gull, Montague John Druitt, Michael Ostrog, Aaron Kosminski, four murderers: Dr. Thomas Neill Cream, George Chapman, Frederick Deeming, William Bury, Dr. Tumblety,murder victim James Maybrick, Roylston D'Onston Stevenson, painter Walter Sickert, and (believe it or not) Lewis Carroll (most Ripperologists reject the Carroll theory). One unnamed suspect is known as the "Lodger". The story first occurred as a rumour passed around in the early years of the century (one of those who passed it around is Walter Sickert). The story is that a young man (who was secretive, but sickly) was living in a London boarding house. He only left at night, but would return before daylight. His sole interest was in the newspaper reports of the murders (which occurred only at night). After the murder of Mary Kelly the young man has a collapse in his precarious health, and dies a few months later. From this rumour Marie Belloc Lowndes (sister of Hilliare Belloc and writer of novels based on true crimes) wrote her short story "The Lodger." Later she turned it into a longer novella. This is the story that is the basis for the 1944 film (as well as other versions, such as Hitchcock's 1927 version). This film and it's follow-up are the capoffs for Laird fine, brief career of movie stardom. He had played villains and psychotics in other films (THIS GUN FOR HIRE, I WAKE UP SCREAMING) and demonstrated a versatility seldom shown by some of the popular leading men he supported at the time. He also had done other costume films (he is Sir Henry Morgan, the buccaneer turned royal governor in THE BLACK SWAN, and was the art dealer in Monty Wooley/Gracie Field's HOLY MATRIMONY). His work in comedy and melodrama, modern and costume pieces came together in THE LODGER and HANGOVER SQUARE. In both we know he is the killer, and yet in both we find an odd sympathy for his characters. Perhaps more for George Bone in the latter film (who really is not sure what is going on, but knows it is dreadful), but here there is a sense of loss - the Lodger's brother was destroyed by a prostitute (here called an "actress"), which has led to his crusade of destruction. The supporting cast is fine too, with George Sanders playing the suspicious Scotland Yard inspector who unmasks Cregar (using fingerprinting - which was not used in Great Britain until 1905). Despite the anachronism it is a handsome piece of well made melodrama. One watches it and HANGOVER SQUARE and shakes one's head at the loss the movies had when Cregar died later in 1944.

Victorian London, Whitechapple, and some maniac is slaughtering women with stage backgrounds. Could it be that the mysterious Mr. Slade who has rented the upstairs rooms from Mrs Burton, is the man known as Jack the Ripper? This part of London is cloaked in fog, the cobbled streets damp and bearing witness to unspeakable crimes, the gas lights dimly flicker as the British Bobby searches in vain for Bloody Jack. The scene is set for what is to me the finest adaptation to deal with the notorious murderer, Jack the Ripper. A remake of the Alfred Hitchcock silent from 1927, this adaptation of the Marie Belloc Lowndes novel not only looks great (Lucien Ballard's photography creating fluid eeriness and film noir fatalism) but also chills the blood without ever actually spilling any. It's a testament to John Brahm's direction that the film constantly feels like a coiled spring waiting to explode, a spring that is realised in the form of Laird Cregar's incredibly unnerving portrayal of Mr Slade. Laird Cregar, as evidenced here, was a fine actor in the making. Sadly troubled by his weight and yearning to become a true matinée idol, he crashed dieted to such a degree his poor 28 year old heart couldn't cope with the shock. After just 16 films, of which this was his second to last, the movie world was robbed of a truly fine performer, a sad story in a long line of sad incidents that taint the Hollywood story. George Sanders and Merle Oberon (as police inspector and Slade's infatuation respectively) engage in a less than fully realised romantic strand, and Cedric Hardwicke dominates all the scenes that don't feature the might of Cregar, but really it's the big man's show all the way. Creepily enhanced by Hugo Friedhofer's score, The Lodger is a lesson in how to utilise technical atmospherics. The moody atmosphere here hangs heavy and the sense of doom is palpable in the extreme, it comes as something of a relief when the ending finally comes, for then it's time to reflect and exhale a sigh of relief. Deviating from the novel, something which has over the years annoyed purists, The Lodger shows its hand very much from the off, yet this in no way hurts the picture. In fact if anything the exasperation at the supporting characters induces dry humour, The kind that comes in the form of nervous giggles out there in the dark, but rest assured, this is no comedy, it's a creepy classic from a wonderful era of film making. 9/10

Cregar works at a hospital, sets up lodging after a series of Ripper murders, and becomes compelled by a performance artist on the rise (Oberon) to eventually murder as he has committed all the Jack the Ripper murders in Victorian London. Sanders is the detective out to get him, while also smitten with Oberon.

The legendary true story of 19th century London's "Jack the Ripper" has been told countless times in TV and film. Here, the facts are augmented into more of a character study and an observation of the perceptions and suspicions from people when confronted by a person who is decidedly "different". This remake of a silent Hitchcock film focuses on the title character Cregar, an unusual, detached man who takes rooms in an affluent household at the same time that a deranged killer is carving up local "actresses" (1940's censorship disallowed the portrayal of what the victims were in real life -- prostitutes.) One ironic, but unlikely, twist is that once Cregar takes the rooms, it is discovered that a prominent local actress (Oberon) is living in the home as well! Oberon and her aunt Allgood and uncle Hardwicke become increasingly suspicious of the new lodger as he slinks out late at night, burns certain possessions of his and gets sweaty and unnerved at the mere mention of actresses. Is he The Ripper or does he have some similarly-themed problem which will cause him to be thought of as The Ripper even though he isn't? This is basically the thrust of the tale (stunted occasionally by some amusingly awkward musical moments from Oberon and her voice-double.) The fog machine was working overtime during this film and it almost covers up the fact that this was filmed on a backlot. Still, there's enough atmosphere to give the movie some sense of the time and place. Oberon is stunning to behold in a parade of ornate gowns and hairstyles, her unique face lit well by the man she would soon marry and her graceful manner at it's peak. Sanders has little of interest to do as a police inspector who finds time to try to woo her while the body count racks up. As the aunt and uncle, Allgood (especially) and Hardwicke provide delightful, thoroughly solid performances. The most memorable aspect of the film, however, is the startling performance of Cregar and the innovative ways in which he is filmed and lit. (The camera setups, at various times, are leagues ahead of other films being done during this period.) There is an eerie extra light on Cregar when he isn't in silhouette. He gives such a vivid, stark performance (at times literally breathing down the viewers' necks!) that, once seen, he is unlikely to be forgotten. Fortunately, at 84 minutes, the film doesn't overstay its welcome and provides a nice bit of creepy entertainment. Even at this length there are some slightly unnecessary and dull interludes among the townsfolk, but for the most part, the film works. Though the violence is, by now, so tame as to be nonexistent, the menace of the killer is still effective and occasionally very creepy. (Some modern slasher films like 1981's "The Fan" drew obvious inspiration from this one.) Cregar, who died of a heart attack after quickly shedding 100 pounds in order to change his image, is an actor whose screen presence ran circles around many of his contemporaries. That he died so young (he was 28 years old in this film!) and before seeing his full potential realized is one of Hollywood's great losses.

Merle Oberon, George Sanders, Sara Allgood, Sir Cedric Hardwicke, and Laird Cregar (as the title role) star in what must be the definitive film adaptation of this story, claiming to be based on the Jack the Ripper legend. I remember seeing the Hitchcock silent, and while it was good, it didn't capture the London-at-night atmosphere and the dark shadows, and it didn't have Laird Cregar, and his intense desperation. He was excellent! I can only imagine that he was probably a nice guy in real life, but his disturbing performance is practically the whole show. Merle Oberon is lovely and all, but her role is really a thankless or throw-away role, with very little to do but to just be there. Laird Cregar (and the movie) allows us to enter his mind and understand his motivations and even to sympathize with him. We're allowed to see things through his eyes. Especially at the end, when he's cornered by the crowd, when he looks so demented to the crowd, we see the crowd from his perspective. They must look so frightening to him. One quick note: Sara Allgood also was in "How Green was My Valley," and she deserves some recognition for her great part in "The Lodger" and her prolific career. She was an actress who worked without much fanfare, but always gave great performances. See this version of "The Lodger" and don't be taken in or fooled by imitations. Stay away from the new one, and don't even be curious about "Man in the Attic" with Jack Palance, a vastly inferior rip-off. "The Lodger" can be found on a Fox Horror 3-movie collection, and on TCM from time to time. Discover this version of "The Lodger," and you won't be disappointed, unless you want today's blood and gore. Its less-is-more technique goes a long, shiny way with your imagination.

From the first few frames, as the title credits wash in and out like the tide, this is a superb film, full of fog, shadows, suspense, and great performances from Cregar (brilliant in this), Oberon, Hardwicke and others. It manages to be chilling and moving at the same time, and the ending seems incredibly sad and poetic after what has gone before. This makes it all the more memorable. Sadly not on video at the moment unless you dig around, but deserves to be better known than perhaps it is. In comparison with the silent version by Hitchcock, this is more deranged and evil than Novello's cuckoo clocks and wild eyes, and also has a more logical conclusion that the viewer was sure of from early on. The strongest scene is the one in Oberon's dressing room quite near the end, which gives the viewer as much of a fright as it gives her. After that it is somehow reminiscent of Phantom of the Opera, not without advantage. Well worth a look.