David Charleston (Michael Redgrave) is an anti-Fascist who spent the entire 1930s warning the Western World of the threat of Nazi Germany, Fascist Italy, and Japan. But nothing was done, and in 1940 the world is teetering on the verge of falling into the hands of these three monstrous regimes. But Charleston has gotten fed up with being "Cassandra" (the Greek seer who was doomed to always foretell the future but never be believed). He has gotten an appointment to taking care of a lighthouse in the Great Lakes, at Thunder Rock, and cynically cuts himself off from mankind.
Not totally though. He has discovered the remains of papers that concern the lives of the passenger and crew of a sailing ship, the Lady of the Lakes, which hit a reef near the site of the lighthouse in 1850, killing everyone on board. Reading of their lives he has reconstructed the lives of seven people and imagines what they were like. So they "entertain" him, by going through their normal behavior and set speeches. In particular a Doctor and his daughter (Frederick Valk and Lili Palmer) fleeing from the militarism of Germany. Valk was working on anesthesia and Palmer hoped to find a new home and a future (i.e., a husband and family) when the tragedy occurred. Redgrave takes a fancy to Palmer, and in his conversations she shows she is equally interested in him. But all of these ghosts (except the ship's Captain, Finlay Currie) are unaware that it is no longer 1850, and that they are all dead.
The crisis of the film is when Currie (who has assisted in this mental game with Redgrave) gets tired about it because Redgrave has turned the characters into caricatures and not real people. When this happens he berates Redgrave for misusing his powerful imagination. Redgrave agrees to allow them more outspoken freedom of action. But when they are more outspoken, they ask questions about the time they are in and the world as it is. Redgrave gets fed up and (despite warnings from Currie) allows Palmer to read a plaque on the wall that describes the shipwreck and the loss of everyone on board. He then tells them that the civilization as they knew it is ending, and that he has gone into the lighthouse to avoid seeing it end close up. His disillusionment is expressed to them, and then he adds that now that he has revealed the truth he sees no further use in having them around. As they are figments of his imagination he will no longer need them and they can now disappear. Redgrave is seen concentrating. Only they don't disappear.
Valk confronts him, and forces Redgrave to compare them with himself. Did civilization cease in the 19th Century due to their deaths? Is any one man (a Darwin, a Lincoln) so essential for change that without him or her change will never occur? Is isolation the answer to facing the future or to stand up and act?
I was fortunate back in the 1970s to see a stage production of THUNDER ROCK in Manhattan at the Equity Library Theatre on W. 103rd Street. The play was shorter in cast than this film version (which builds up the stupidity that Redgrave's character faced in the 1930s, leading to his cynical viewpoint). But the effect of the play was still strong then as when it first appeared in the 1940s. Civilization is always facing some disaster - but as long as someone speaks out and acts it can continue to survive.
Not totally though. He has discovered the remains of papers that concern the lives of the passenger and crew of a sailing ship, the Lady of the Lakes, which hit a reef near the site of the lighthouse in 1850, killing everyone on board. Reading of their lives he has reconstructed the lives of seven people and imagines what they were like. So they "entertain" him, by going through their normal behavior and set speeches. In particular a Doctor and his daughter (Frederick Valk and Lili Palmer) fleeing from the militarism of Germany. Valk was working on anesthesia and Palmer hoped to find a new home and a future (i.e., a husband and family) when the tragedy occurred. Redgrave takes a fancy to Palmer, and in his conversations she shows she is equally interested in him. But all of these ghosts (except the ship's Captain, Finlay Currie) are unaware that it is no longer 1850, and that they are all dead.
The crisis of the film is when Currie (who has assisted in this mental game with Redgrave) gets tired about it because Redgrave has turned the characters into caricatures and not real people. When this happens he berates Redgrave for misusing his powerful imagination. Redgrave agrees to allow them more outspoken freedom of action. But when they are more outspoken, they ask questions about the time they are in and the world as it is. Redgrave gets fed up and (despite warnings from Currie) allows Palmer to read a plaque on the wall that describes the shipwreck and the loss of everyone on board. He then tells them that the civilization as they knew it is ending, and that he has gone into the lighthouse to avoid seeing it end close up. His disillusionment is expressed to them, and then he adds that now that he has revealed the truth he sees no further use in having them around. As they are figments of his imagination he will no longer need them and they can now disappear. Redgrave is seen concentrating. Only they don't disappear.
Valk confronts him, and forces Redgrave to compare them with himself. Did civilization cease in the 19th Century due to their deaths? Is any one man (a Darwin, a Lincoln) so essential for change that without him or her change will never occur? Is isolation the answer to facing the future or to stand up and act?
I was fortunate back in the 1970s to see a stage production of THUNDER ROCK in Manhattan at the Equity Library Theatre on W. 103rd Street. The play was shorter in cast than this film version (which builds up the stupidity that Redgrave's character faced in the 1930s, leading to his cynical viewpoint). But the effect of the play was still strong then as when it first appeared in the 1940s. Civilization is always facing some disaster - but as long as someone speaks out and acts it can continue to survive.