We're not like you! You're made of iron, we're just flesh and blood! Hungry and thirsty flesh and blood!
(1944)
Like Rope, this wartime Hitchcock effort
sees the director thriving on the technical challenge of basing a film around a single
location. The script from John Steinbeck maintains the character drama
throughout, throwing in battles with the elements and thwarted plans to reach
safe harbour. The characters need to be sufficiently compelling as the suspense
element is limited by the scenario. Hitchcock was keen to do his patriotic duty
during WWII, so it's ironic that some critics suggested the film was pro-Nazi in
presenting a German character who was several steps ahead of his fellow
survivors; the director's intention was for the lifeboat's occupants to
represent the allies in a microcosm, and only by uniting could they defeat the
more prepared and resilient enemy.
Tallulah Bankhead makes the most of the
ostensible lead (certainly the only big name in the cast), a smart-mouthed,
lusty photo-journalist. The first time we see her she is the sole occupant of
the titular survival vessel, sat incongruously in her mink coat smoking a
cigarette. She is in no doubt of her importance. Bankhead didn't go in for
underwear; Hitchcock's reaction was "I
don't know if this is a matter for the costume department, makeup, or
hairdressing").
Of the rest of the cast the most
variable is Hume Cronyn. His "English" accent must be one of the
worst ever; it's hard to get past that to consider whether his performance is
any good or not. Water Slezak's German,
Willy, is the only actor who can match Bankhead for screen presence. Mary
Anderson, a Fox contract-player, is a bit of a babe and seems an unlikely match
for Cronyn (stressful environments and all that, I guess). William Bendix, John
Hodiak, Canada Lee and Henry Hull are all solid.
Lee's African American character Joe is
introduced with the cry of "Hey,
Charcoal!" from Bankhead, making you wonder if the treatment of the
character can only get worse from there. But for the most part he's written with
more awareness than might have been expected for a film of this period. While
he's introduced with a negative signifier (he was once a pickpocket), this
skill proves vital as events unfold. At one point he expresses surprise that he
would be asked for his vote on what to do, and later the other characters further
betray their ignorance by showing their surprise at the photo of his wife and
children.
The film is so technically accomplished
that it smooths over some of the less credible aspects of the script. Most
obvious is the amputation of a leg on a small boat in the middle of a storm
with only a bottle of brandy as anaesthetic (I hardly think that when the
victim comes round he will claim to feel "much better"). Some of Willy's actions probably don't stand
much scrutiny in retrospect either (for someone with such skills of manipulation and coersion he makes several very sloppy blunders). At other times the writing is highly
insightful; Bankhead is introduced seeing the war as little more than an
entertainment that she can make capital from. The film features Hitchcock's
favourite of his cameos; it's certainly his most inventive (I won’t spoil it if
you haven’t seen it).
SPOILERS:
The climax is interesting in terms of
the possible readings one could take away. At first glance, the shaking of
heads at the frightened young German who expected them to kill him (he is
rescued but then pulls a gun on them) seems to be a somewhat glib ascribing of
innate moral superiority to the Allies. But we have to consider also that those
uttering this sentiment have just lynched the nefarious German who was plotting
their demise/surrender. And Hitchcock filmed them doing this in a fairly unequivocally
disdainful eye (as he said to Truffaut, "they're like a pack of dogs"). Nevertheless, while it would
have been astonishing to arrive at any other point, I couldn't help but be
disappointed that Willy is revealed to be so single-mindedly villainous beneath
his charm and manipulation. Walter Slezak makes the character immensely
charismatic in his level-headedness while all around are falling to pieces. A
more interesting and less polarised approach might have been more satisfying
(after all the previous year had brought the amazingly even-handed and
insightful The Life and Death of Colonel
Blimp). But I was also slightly disappointed for the more prosaic reason
that the German being the villain was obvious, and you want Hitchcock to
surprise you. But in Lifeboat, the
surprise is one telegraphed by the title and poster; the director will be
imposing severely restrictive elements upon himself and the pleasure for the
viewer is in seeing how he is able to sustain this.
