THE GHOST OF ST. MICHAEL’S

Marcel Varnel, 1941

Starring: Will Hay, Claude Hulbert, Felix Aylmer, Charles Hawtrey

William Lamb, a bumbling teacher, is assigned to an English school for boys that has recently transferred to an isolated Scottish castle thanks to the destruction caused by the war. Forced to become a science lecturer, Lamb is out of his element and is tormented by his precocious class. There also seems to be a ghost at work in the castle — the headmaster complains of noises that keep him awake at night and later bagpipes mysteriously sound just before someone is found dead. Lamb soon realizes that he is next on the list of intended victims and must get to the bottom of the ghostly mystery in order to live out the school term.

The Ghost of St. Michael’s might not be the greatest British film made during WWII, but this Ealing Studios comic thriller is a solid example of genre filmmaking made during the war years. Make no mistake — this isn’t strictly a horror film — but is a mashup of comedy, mystery, and horror with plenty of pleasant genre tropes thrown into the mix. The spooky old castle is allegedly home to a bagpipe-playing ghost, which is announced by the solemn, superstitious Scottish caretaker. This small but memorable was played by John Laurie, sort of the like a British version of John Carradine who pops up in many genre films throughout the period.

Lamb mentions that thirteen is his lucky number and he is (in an ominous but also hilarious scene) almost killed by a schoolboy prank. The housekeeper mentions that she needs rat poison, which Lamb is required to mix up, as he is allegedly a scientist — something that is destined to go horribly wrong. There are plenty of mysterious noises in the castle at night and Lamb finds the students celebrating the “feast of Halloween” which they describe as an old Scottish custom. Not being supernatural themselves, they’re basically using this as an excuse to steal food and drink (including whiskey) from the kitchens, in order to party in their large dormitory room.

In terms of the film’s horror themes, the Scottish setting is particularly notable, as it seems to be an unconscious source of folk horror and supernatural for British audiences and filmmakers alike. The Isle of Skye introduced here is a fictional Scotland similar to the one found in I Know Where I’m Going (1945) — Powell and Pressburger’s classic yet quirky romance that revolves around a Scottish curse — and even films like Devil Girl from Mars (1954) and the recent Under the Skin (2013) are set in the Scottish moors, a locale that all the characters seem to know is inherently creepy (particularly in British films of the ‘40s and ‘50s). 

These supernatural undertones — as opposed to overt elements — were the general rule in the ‘40s. With the exception of The Uninvited (1944), a lone American horror film that focused on a real ghost, most genre films from this period were a mix of mystery and comedy, with simply a dash of supernatural horror (or science fiction): for example old dark house movies like The Cat and the Canary (1939) always had human perpetrators, though they generally relied on the suggestion of the the supernatural for the first half of the film. Unstable characters, particularly vulnerable, hysteria women, were especially susceptible to hints of otherworldly evil.

There are also numerous mystery tropes in The Ghost of St. Michael’s. One of the students — Charles Hawtrey, whose character becomes something of a sidekick for Lamb and is of course the most annoying person in the film — reads crime fiction and the name of the book he’s currently reading, My Aunt Lies Bleeding, is both the running gag through the film and the source of his theories about the headmaster’s death. But most of the dark themes are played for comic results, such as an effective concluding moment when Lamb and two associates are almost crushed to death in a secret chamber with collapsing walls. 

The real reason to see the film is comedian Will Hay, who is delightful as a clueless, bumbling teacher whose students wind up liking him because he’s such a buffoon. In a film that’s just over 60 minutes he wind up getting drunk with them — instead of breaking up their Halloween party, he joins in and requisitions their stolen whiskey — and getting high on laughing gas, because he’s confused about the nature of some of the chemicals in the science lab. He worked regularly with director Marcel Varnel (Chandu the Magician, The Loves of Madame Dubarry, King Arthur Was a Gentleman) and the famed director Basil Dearden served as their associate producer. In Robert Shall’s British Film Directors: A Critical Guide, he writes, “The most memorable of all Varnel’s work was done with Will Hay. His cynical, bumbling persona, usually in the form of some disreputable authority figure (teacher, policeman, stationmaster), has survived changes in audience tastes better than the other comics Varnel worked with” (207).

This boys’ only party is interrupted by one female character — SPOILERS ahead — the housekeeper who winds up being a Nazi agent in disguise and who is responsible for all the murders and misdeeds. This was a relentlessly popular trope during the war, even in genre films like a sequel to The Invisible Man, Invisible Agent (1942), and Sherlock Holmes and the Secret Weapon (1942). Will Hay himself even appeared in another anti-Nazi film alongside actor Charles Hawtrey, The Goose Steps Out (1942), where Hay’s character happens to be identical to a captured Nazi spy.

The Ghost of St. Michael’s isn’t going to appeal to everyone, but if you enjoy comedy-horror-mystery mashups, or enjoy humor that revolves around bumbling comic character, then this fast-paced romp is well worth watching. There aren’t really any great prints available, but you can find some cheap US DVD options or the UK DVD from Optimum. 

NIGHT TRAIN TO MUNICH

Carol Reed, 1940
Starring: Margaret Lockwood, Rex Harrison, Paul Henreid, James Harcourt

I love, love, love me some Carol Reed. Responsible for one of my favorite films of all time, The Third Man, Reed is an expert at thrillers, intrigue, and black and white cinematography. Night Train to Munich comes from earlier in his career and though it may be a little too slow paced for viewers not used to 1940s cinema, it is highly recommended.

The adorable Margaret Lockwood (The Lady Vanishes) plays Anna, a young Czech girl whose father, Dr. Bomasch (James Harcourt), has invented a new technique for armor plating. When the Nazis attempt to kidnap him and he escapes to England with the help of the British Royal Navy, they retaliate by arresting Anna and putting her in a concentration camp. She befriends Karl Marsen (Paul Henreid), a downtrodden political prisoner, and they quickly hatch a plan and make their escape to England. It is soon revealed to us that Marsen is an SS officer in disguise and he has been assigned to woo Anna and learn her father's whereabouts.

Anna makes contact with British Intelligence officer Dickie Randall (Rex Harrison), who is working undercover as a singer/entertainer. Randall is duped by Marsen, who recaptures Anna and her father and transports them back to Germany. Dr. Bomasch is told he will either cooperate or Anna will return to the concentration camp. Randall volunteers to go to Germany, undercover as a Nazi, to retrieve Anna and Bomasch. He comes up with several comic ploys, including pretending to seduce Anna. Though he is nearly successful, all three plus Marsen and some Nazi guards wind up on an overnight train to Munich.

Though entertaining in its own right, there are several things about Night Train to Munich that make it particularly noteworthy. First, it is a WWII film actually filmed during the war, in the early days of the first wave of real British terror. Because the film was shot in 1940, there is no real sense of conclusion to the events, even though there is technically a happy ending to the film. The air of unease, unhappiness, and fear is palpable in the film, even when the characters are making jokes about their plight. Second, it actually shows a few scenes from a concentration camp and the terrible plight of the prisoners, who are mistreated, beaten, and overworked -- though the film neglects to mention the Nazi war on Jews and the camp within the film seems to house non-specific political prisoners.

Also, it stars two of wartime cinema's best actors, Rex Harrison and Paul Henreid. Most famous for his roles in Casablanca and Now, Voyager, Henreid is always a joy to watch. He left Austria and Germany in '35 to go to Britain. When the war began in earnest he was almost deported, but the great Conrad Veidt spoke up for him and he went on to co-star, as a Nazi, in Night Train to Munich. I bet that was a bitter pill -- many German and Eastern European actors who fled to English-speaking territories suffered the same plight -- but it certainly made his career and allowed him to move on to Hollywood and stardom.

Rex Harrison has always been one of my favorite actors, as I grew up watching The Ghost and Mrs. Muir, My Fair Lady, and Dr. Dolittle. He is charming, saucy, and sarcastic, and usually plays witty male leads in romantic dramas, though he could also throw down some serious acting skills and spent most of his life with an active career in theater that far out-lived his cinematic presence. The unusual thing about his role as Dickie Randall is that it was written as a male romantic lead, but there is no romance in the film. There is definitely an implied undercurrent, as well as jokes about trysts and sexual tension, but his relationship with Anna is resolved with a hug, not a kiss. Though this is probably due to the dark tone the war in Europe cast over British subjects during this time, the lack of romantic resolution gives the film a more depressing and hopeless sense at its conclusion.

Aside from everything I've already mentioned there are Nazis, funny British people, comedy, danger, trains, and spies. Charters and Caldicott, the British comedy duo played by Naunton Wayne and Basil Radford from The Lady Vanishes, and other films of the period, also appear in the second half of the film, providing some much needed comic relief. There is also one of my favorite lines in a WWII drama, which you will understand when you see the film: "This is a fine country we live in."

Criterion released a restored transfer of Night Train to Munich a few months ago and this is obviously the version you want to buy. My only complaint is that it has fewer special features than I would have liked. Surely Criterion could have cooked up more about the film, This film comes highly recommended, particularly if you love WWII films, Carol Reed, Rex Harrison, movies set on trains, or watch Turner Classic Movies all the time. That channel is where I first saw this film and it is surely part of that classic oldie oeuvre. Also, I can't get enough of train films for some reason. It must be that whole pressure cooker scenario.

THE NIGHT PORTER

Liliana Cavani, 1974

Starring: Dirk Bogarde, Charlotte Rampling, Phillipe Leroy, Gabriele Ferzetti

Written and directed by Liliana Cavani, Il portiere di notte falls into that bleak, morally ambiguous gray area between art film and exploitation -- in other words, my favorite kind of movie. My least favorite film critic, Roger Ebert, called this film "a despicable attempt to titillate us by exploiting memories of persecution and suffering." While I would be willing to debate the artistic or cultural merit of Caligula with him, The Night Porter is undeniably an important, if transgressive work that exploits the memory of Holocaust suffering no more or no less than a Hollywood blockbuster like Schindler's List (plus it's a better film than Spielberg's milquetoast tearjerker).

Max (the powerful Bogarde) works as a night porter in an elegant hotel when he has a surprise encounter with Lucia (the icy and beautiful Rampling), who is traveling with her composer husband. When their eyes accidentally meet, it's revealed through flashbacks that Max was an SS officer in a concentration camp and Lucia was an inmate and his mistress. They soon resume their sexual, sadomasochistic relationship, which is seemingly consensual. As they abandon themselves to mutual obsession, they are forced to hole up Max's apartment. An underground Nazi cell -- Max's former associates -- are determined to hunt down Lucia, as she is one of the last witnesses who could testify against them.

Cavani's film is both powerful and shocking, because it confronts roles that are typically scene as black and white, such as Nazi vs concentration camp prisoner, or rape victim vs rapist. Lucia is never absolutely a victim and Max is never absolutely a perpetrator. In one of the film's most memorable scenes, Lucia is seductively dressed in only the pants and hat of an SS uniform and sings a Marlene Dietrich song in a Nazi bar. Max rewards her with the head of an unpleasant male inmate, a la Salome and John the Baptist. Max, the vicious Nazi, later transforms himself into a victim and metaphorical camp prisoner by locking himself in his apartment to starve, choosing Lucia over his bitter post-war life.

Obviously there are a lot of problematic elements in The Night Porter. The sexualization of a camp victim is repulsive at best, particularly in regards to Lucia's eroticized thinness contrasted with the other squalid prisoners marked by age, grayness, and filth. Cavani adds a further level of discomfort by turning the other camp prisoners into voyeurs who quietly observe the sexual acts between Max and Lucia. This problem of voyeurism and exploitation links to most fictional filmic portrayals of concentration camp life and the Holocaust.

Not to defend Cavani, but I believe The Night Porter provides an intentionally unrealistic portrayal of camp life. Though this gives it a sensationalist bent -- how can the famous SS uniform burlesque be seen as anything but? -- it doesn't necessarily propel it into the realm of pure exploitation. Like Haneke's pre-fascist Germany in Die weisse Band, the environment is merely a stage. Lucia herself is not specifically Jewish. The film seems more concerned with questioning the roles of victim and perpetrator, guilt and shame. Though we would obviously assume that any camp survivor feels both guilt and shame, so does Max. He holes himself up in the hotel during daylight hours, living a quiet life and only working at night, afraid of the light because of the shame he feels.

There is also the compelling, unconscious repetition of the past, a gripping theme for all of post-World War II Europe, particularly the fascist countries. Lucia most obviously embodies this, though her actions could easily be blamed on Stockholm Syndrome. The Nazi sleeper cell is also guilty. They cannot escape the past and continue to have "party" meetings and mock trials, exonerating fellow SS members, collecting evidence, and punishing past prisoners.

At this point the connection between fascism and sadomasochism has moved mostly beyond taboo into trope. In 1974, I don't feel that was the case. Though it is not nearly as powerful of a political narrative as Pasolini's Salo (1975), both films share a similarly uncomfortable, morally ambiguous theme about problems of victimization and the resignation of personal freedom. I think it is worth seeing, but you might have to brace yourself. The Criterion release of The Night Porter is obviously the only way to see this film.

Finally, I thought I would include a great article that examines the role of sexuality and the Holocaust in fiction, focusing on The Night Porter and D.M. Thomas's novel, The White Hotel.