THE CINEMA
" Temptation Harbour " (Warner).—" The Trouble • with Women " and " Seven Were Saved." (Plaza).
Temptation Harbour is, as far as I know, the first attempt to put a Simenon novel on the screen. The novel is Newhaven-Dieppe, and is about a signalman who, from his harbour-box, is the sole witness of a murder, and for a time the sole beneficiary, for a suitcase contain- ing notes to a vast value falls into his hands. Circumstances and his own character combine to lead him into a series of actions by which he hopes to keep both conscience and money. But the murderer returns to seek the suitcase, and in due course is murdered by the signalman, who, too late, turns honest and gives himself up to the police. All this is typical Simenon technique, and at first glance his work would seem to be ideal for a screen-thriller. But in fact it is not so easy, because the main point of nearly all Simenon's work is the division of fate into two aspects—one the adventitious and exterior, the other predestined and implicit in the make-up of his characters. This, in a superficial writer, which, with all respect, Simenon is, causes a pleasing confusion of sentiments in the reader. This confusion, however, cannot so easily be effected through the more brutal impact of sight and sound ; the director is almost certain to be forced to the outside of the story, and the subjective element strays or disappears.
In this case Lance Comfort has made a brave effort to strike a balance, but he has had to fall back on the now threadbare technique of the spoken thought, with results that are irritating rather than effective. Temptation Harbour falls between two stools, and is not, perhaps, helped by the transference of the location from France to England—an England, too, which, with the exception of the harbour scenes, smacks a little too much of the studio. Nevertheless, it would be unfair to dismiss the film as a failure. It has some dramatic and exciting moments—particularly the scenes of the beach-hut and of the burglary of the signalman's home. There is, too, some admirable acting by Robert Newton (in a part much in contrast with 0d4 Man Out), William Hartnell, Margaret Barton (a new and entrapcing actress) and Simone Simon. The last-named speaks English with a total unawareness of colloquial inflexions ; this is at times effective, but in moments of tension it causes most of her remarks to bear little relation to the matters with which they deal. But she looks pretty and has a subtle sense of movement.
* * * * Despite the fact that one grieves to see a fine actor like Ray Milland wasted on trivialities, The Trouble with Women is a slick and divert- ing bit of nonsense about a misogynous professor of psychology who is placed in a succession of embarrassing positions by an unscrupu- lous female reporter (Teresa Wright) whom—how did you guess?— he marries in the end. The humour ranges from crude farce to a touch of satire. There is one magnificent sequence involving a gum- chewing fan-dancer, which almost reminds one of the sacrilegious approach to American show business seen, all too rarely, in such films as Nothing Sacred. The Trouble with Women whiles away the time in a pleasant enough manner, and that cannot be said of its support- ing film, Seven Were Saved, which is the American "B " picture at its worst. It is all about a collection of demented puppets in a rubber dinghy, and it takes all of an hour to get them rescued, as if anybody cared. Even the sharks cannot do more than take a brief and almost reluctant nibble at one of them. Later on the heroine extemporises a wonderfully literary prayer, and a chap in hospital has a premonition which gets him out of bed, into a flying boat, out of the flying boat by parachute into the sea and into a lifeboat, and— cheer up!—when he gets to that stage the film is nearly over. * * * * There is a Ministry of Health trailer going the rounds which has the enormous merit of brevity (some 6o seconds) and humour. It depicts Richard Massingham in a paroxysm of sneezing, and in so doing both impels laughter and provides a salutary reminder regard- ing the use of your pocket handkerchief. Massingham's particular brand of humour, and his sense of timing, prove him the unrivalled maestro of the film-flash, which is, by the way, a reasonable method of message-plugging if, as in this case, it is really well done.
BASIL WRIGHT.
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