Black Narcissus

I am a great admirer of the films of Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger.  At the time of this writing I've seen a half dozen, eager for more.  So ahead of their time.  Their artistic choices are quite eye opening for the period, though for contemporary viewers some of it may feel like deja vu.  The duo famously influenced Martin Scorsese, but their style can be seen in the work of many, many others (even the Pixar team).  For 1947's BLACK NARCISSUS, their use of background matte and landscape paintings is extensive and creates a most convincing artifice in its depiction of a mountaintop palace.  But what makes this film a must just about begins and ends with Jack Cardiff's amazing, Oscar winning cinematography.  

Sister Clodagh (Deborah Kerr) of Order of the Servants of Mary has been appointed as Sister Superior of a new mission: a school and hospital for children in an old palace high in the not exactly inviting Himalayan mountains.  Where the cold winds are ceaseless and the Hindu culture may not be so accepting of Christian charity and faith.  There's also Mr. Dean (David Farrar), a cynical middle aged Brit who serves as the local Rajput General's agent.  He knows the palace's history as a den of iniquity, symbolized by an interesting painting in the parlor.  And that an order of monks failed with their own mission sometime earlier.   Dean will prove a fleshly temptation to the Anglican nuns, who also include the rather troubled Sister Ruth (Kathleen Byron).  

Sister Clodagh remains steadfast and disciplined in the midst of bad water and haunting memories of a past love.  The failure of which led her to the Convent.  She finds Dean a vulgarian with his bitter words and scantily clad appearance,  He even dares show up drunk at their Christmas service.  But it's clear she fancies him despite it all.  Adding to her frustrations is the emergence of the General's young heir Dilip (Sabu) who seeks Western education but is seduced by a local juvenile delinquent called Kanchi (Jean Simmons, yes, in brownface) whose very movements and piercing eyes would seem enough to throw film censors into a tizzy.

BLACK NARCISSUS is quite a sensual film.  Nearly every frame exudes sexuality, though more often a frustrated, repressed sort.  Par for the course in a film dealing with nuns, and the directors' screenplay, while observant of political subtext, was a bit thin.  I found the examination of Indian culture quite wanting and caricatured. As an essay on devotion vs. worldliness it succeeds far better, though always seems on the cusp of something more without ever achieving it.  

And P & P love their melodrama, which at times derails what could've been a more interesting morality play.  Still, I cannot fault the film's climax, which is just this side of overwrought and in moments resembles a horror film.  Grandly effective.  Ms. Byron really burns up the screen.  

Back to Cardiff.  His use of Technicolor is nothing short of astonishing.  I've read that the original audiences gasped at BLACK NARCISSUS' visual beauty.  Its shots of flower gardens alone are enough to take your breath away.  The mountainscapes, all faked, defy description.  How this was done (mostly) at Pinewood Studios is quite a feat.  This is a flat out gorgeous motion picture, and why such ventures deserve to be seen on the largest screen possible.