How well I remember seeing Cat People for the first time. I was almost bowled over by my first sight of poetic horror. It was the 1950's and cheap monsters were all over the drive-ins, fun, but hardly mesmerizing. Then, suddenly, there was Lewton's flick on the late show and I was transfixed by a whole new world of fright movies. The shadowy b&w was riveting, but the shadows of my imagination were beyond even that. As they say- a whole new world had opened up.
Over time, I managed to catch the bulk of Lewton's extraordinary canon, especially The Seventh Victim (1943). That movie's bold ending showed what film censorship typically denied us. I tried to learn more about Lewton, but movie books were almost non-existent at a time when movies were still not considered an art form. To say that Lewton was an obscure moviemaker in a time of Ford, Huston, and De Mille seems almost an understatement. It wasn't until I got a collection of James Agee's magazine reviews that I saw Lewton's brilliance publicly affirmed.
Thanks now to Matin Scorsese, later generations can dive into Lewton's fascinating world in a single sitting. The 75-minutes is replete with clips from his best films, along with commentary from Lewton directors Robert Wise and Jacques Tourneur, and other luminaries. Too bad the illustrious part of his career was so brief, brought down by studio maneuvering. More importantly, Lewton's work shows how unparalled b&w artistry continues even in our era of colorized spectacle. Plus, Lewton uses the spooky not only to open up horror but to lead us into the unique world of a lonely child (Curse of the Cat People, {1944}). Maybe I'm just an old fogey, but I'll bet if you tune in, you'll be as fascinated as I was on that long ago night.
Over time, I managed to catch the bulk of Lewton's extraordinary canon, especially The Seventh Victim (1943). That movie's bold ending showed what film censorship typically denied us. I tried to learn more about Lewton, but movie books were almost non-existent at a time when movies were still not considered an art form. To say that Lewton was an obscure moviemaker in a time of Ford, Huston, and De Mille seems almost an understatement. It wasn't until I got a collection of James Agee's magazine reviews that I saw Lewton's brilliance publicly affirmed.
Thanks now to Matin Scorsese, later generations can dive into Lewton's fascinating world in a single sitting. The 75-minutes is replete with clips from his best films, along with commentary from Lewton directors Robert Wise and Jacques Tourneur, and other luminaries. Too bad the illustrious part of his career was so brief, brought down by studio maneuvering. More importantly, Lewton's work shows how unparalled b&w artistry continues even in our era of colorized spectacle. Plus, Lewton uses the spooky not only to open up horror but to lead us into the unique world of a lonely child (Curse of the Cat People, {1944}). Maybe I'm just an old fogey, but I'll bet if you tune in, you'll be as fascinated as I was on that long ago night.