This is a nifty tale of passion and mysticism revolving around the obsession of an impoverished Army Captain in the Russian Army in the Napoleonic era to make a fortune at gambling. Anton Walbrook is Herman, the protagonist who looks like Roman Polanski. He's distant from the other officers, a bit unfriendly, and seems content to stay that way but, man, would he like to beat them all at a game of cards and carry off a king's ransom in kopeks.
The problem is that, as it stands, he can't afford to "risk the necessary to obtain the superfluous." That kind of phraseology, plus certain other things like the retention of patronyms, makes me think the writers hewed fairly close to Pushkin's original story. And, well, why not? It's easier to steal dialog than to make it up.
Dame Edith Evans is all lace and ancient fragility, is terribly wealthy, lives in a remote estate, and is rumored to have sold her soul to the devil in order to learn how to win at cards. Walbrook would like nothing more than to squeeze the secret out of her or, given his crafty nature, wheedle it out of her. However, she won't see him.
So Walbrook sets about courting Evans' beautiful young ward, Yvonne Mitchell, who looks like a cross between Brenda Marshall ("The Sea Wolf") and Isabella Rosselini ("Blue Velvet"). It could be worse. Leona Helmsley might have been somewhere in that mix. Walbrook's seduction is clandestine and passionate and Mitchell falls for it, although in truth he has no more interest in her than in his old boots.
A meeting with Mitchell gets Walbrook inside Evans' estate. He sneaks into the old woman's room and begs her for the secret of the cards. She stares back in silent expectation. (A terrific performance on her part.) When she doesn't answer he pulls out a pistol and threatens her, at which she crosses herself and passes away. When he confesses this to Mitchell, who loves her guardian, Mitchell throws him out.
Later he seems to be visited by Evans' ghostly presence who whispers to him that the three winning cards in the game of faro are the three, the seven, and the ace. But the presence confides this only on the condition that he marry Mitchell. Walbrook DOES seek out Mitchell and ask to marry her but she heaps calumny upon him and slips away.
Walbrook is humiliated but he seems to think, well, what the hell, he's got the three secret cards anyway. Three, seven, and ace -- right? He borrows every penny his life is worth, shows up at the officers' card game, and begins to play. First hand: the three wins, and Walbrook doubles his bet. Second hand: the seven wins, and Walbrook doubles his bet again, while everyone gulps with awe at the amount of cash now at stake. Third hand: he doubles his bet yet again. Result: you'll have to see it.
There have been a couple of negative comments on the film and I can understand why. The sound isn't everything it could be. But, at least on my DVD, it was clear enough to follow with little trouble. Then, too, it might be that some people were hoping for a different kind of story, one of those depressing Schlachtfests where half a dozen happy-go-lucky adolescents get disarticulated by chain saws.
This isn't that kind of movie at all. What we have is the suggestion of the supernatural, not horror. But careful attention has been paid to elements like set dressing and wardrobe. And the acting is of at least professional caliber. Walbrook sounds stagy but very effective in his role of scuzz bag. Oh, how he HISSES his declaration of love into Mitchell's ear. There are mazurkas, gypsy singers, much lace and feathers, vodka in one gulps, gentle falls of phony snow, operas, slaps across the face inviting duels. Yet it's not a "big" film with a multitude of foofaraws. No sweeping vistas or vast crowds. Scenes mostly take place in cluttered rooms or nooks and crannies on the streets. It reminded me quite strongly of "Dead of Night" (1945) and, less so, of Val Lewton's supernatural thrillers at RKO.
At any rate, I found it enjoyable, though for the first few minutes I wondered where it was going.
The problem is that, as it stands, he can't afford to "risk the necessary to obtain the superfluous." That kind of phraseology, plus certain other things like the retention of patronyms, makes me think the writers hewed fairly close to Pushkin's original story. And, well, why not? It's easier to steal dialog than to make it up.
Dame Edith Evans is all lace and ancient fragility, is terribly wealthy, lives in a remote estate, and is rumored to have sold her soul to the devil in order to learn how to win at cards. Walbrook would like nothing more than to squeeze the secret out of her or, given his crafty nature, wheedle it out of her. However, she won't see him.
So Walbrook sets about courting Evans' beautiful young ward, Yvonne Mitchell, who looks like a cross between Brenda Marshall ("The Sea Wolf") and Isabella Rosselini ("Blue Velvet"). It could be worse. Leona Helmsley might have been somewhere in that mix. Walbrook's seduction is clandestine and passionate and Mitchell falls for it, although in truth he has no more interest in her than in his old boots.
A meeting with Mitchell gets Walbrook inside Evans' estate. He sneaks into the old woman's room and begs her for the secret of the cards. She stares back in silent expectation. (A terrific performance on her part.) When she doesn't answer he pulls out a pistol and threatens her, at which she crosses herself and passes away. When he confesses this to Mitchell, who loves her guardian, Mitchell throws him out.
Later he seems to be visited by Evans' ghostly presence who whispers to him that the three winning cards in the game of faro are the three, the seven, and the ace. But the presence confides this only on the condition that he marry Mitchell. Walbrook DOES seek out Mitchell and ask to marry her but she heaps calumny upon him and slips away.
Walbrook is humiliated but he seems to think, well, what the hell, he's got the three secret cards anyway. Three, seven, and ace -- right? He borrows every penny his life is worth, shows up at the officers' card game, and begins to play. First hand: the three wins, and Walbrook doubles his bet. Second hand: the seven wins, and Walbrook doubles his bet again, while everyone gulps with awe at the amount of cash now at stake. Third hand: he doubles his bet yet again. Result: you'll have to see it.
There have been a couple of negative comments on the film and I can understand why. The sound isn't everything it could be. But, at least on my DVD, it was clear enough to follow with little trouble. Then, too, it might be that some people were hoping for a different kind of story, one of those depressing Schlachtfests where half a dozen happy-go-lucky adolescents get disarticulated by chain saws.
This isn't that kind of movie at all. What we have is the suggestion of the supernatural, not horror. But careful attention has been paid to elements like set dressing and wardrobe. And the acting is of at least professional caliber. Walbrook sounds stagy but very effective in his role of scuzz bag. Oh, how he HISSES his declaration of love into Mitchell's ear. There are mazurkas, gypsy singers, much lace and feathers, vodka in one gulps, gentle falls of phony snow, operas, slaps across the face inviting duels. Yet it's not a "big" film with a multitude of foofaraws. No sweeping vistas or vast crowds. Scenes mostly take place in cluttered rooms or nooks and crannies on the streets. It reminded me quite strongly of "Dead of Night" (1945) and, less so, of Val Lewton's supernatural thrillers at RKO.
At any rate, I found it enjoyable, though for the first few minutes I wondered where it was going.