Review: Johnny Belinda


Lew Ayres plays a well-meaning doctor who comes to a small Nova Scotia fishing and farming town. Whilst on the property of crusty Mr. McDonald (Charles Bickford), he comes across the old man’s pretty deaf-mute daughter Belinda (Jane Wyman). Everyone (including her father and stern Aunt played by Agnes Moorehead) tends to regard Belinda as simple, and amongst the least sensitive of townsfolk, a ‘dummy’, Ayres believes Belinda to be of perfectly normal intelligence. He begins to teach her sign language, though her father initially doesn’t see any sense in it, thinking menial tasks on the farm are all she’s capable of. When the doctor proves otherwise, he’s flabbergasted as Belinda indeed starts to lip read and use sign language. Unfortunately, just as the lines of communication open up between Belinda and the rest of the world, a local drunken creep named Locky (Stephen McNally) forces himself on the helpless girl. Belinda eventually becomes pregnant as a result of the violation, and that’s when things get thorny in a small community of frankly small-minded people. Jan Sterling plays Ayres’ secretary who is married to Locky but secretly harbours feelings for Ayres that aren’t returned.

 

The very classy Jane Wyman gets her biggest and best showcase here in her wonderfully empathetic Oscar-winning turn in this 1948 Jean Negulesco (“Phone Call from a Stranger”, “Titanic”, “How to Marry a Millionaire”) drama. In fact, of the film’s 12 Oscar nominations, Wyman’s was the only win on the night. Playing a deaf-mute she does it all with her open, warm face, as she utters not one word throughout the film. Like me, you might just fall in love with Wyman here, she’s one of my all-time favourite actresses and I couldn’t take my eyes off her here. It’s not just Wyman who makes this film work, though. Based on an Elmer Harris play and scripted by Irmgard von Cube and Allen Vincent (who both previously worked on the underrated biopic “Song of Love”), the Nova Scotia fishing community setting is well-presented within five minutes, despite actually being filmed in California. It’s also one of the best depictions of a small-town community engaging in small-minded gossip you’ll ever see. This town is full of horrible, ignorant and stupid people.

 

It’s a really lovely, striking-looking film in a stark, almost foreboding way as (expertly) shot in B&W by an Oscar-nominated Ted McCord (“South Sea Woman”, “The Sound of Music”). However, that first shot of Wyman’s open, warm, glowing face is unforgettably gorgeous as well, so it’s not all visual gloom and (impending) doom. But of that gloom and doom, well… cinematographers clearly really knew how to light and frame villains in the 40s and 50s. It’s surely no coincidence that three of my favourite villains (Robert Walker in “Strangers on a Train”, Robert Mitchum in “Night of the Hunter”, and Stephen McNally here) are all from around the same era and expertly lit in B&W. McNally gives an unforgettably disturbing and creepy performance on his own, but Negulesco and McCord have him looking positively monstrous. It’s all perfectly accompanied, I might add by an excellent, strong music score by Max Steiner (“Gone With the Wind”, “Casablanca”, “The Caine Mutiny”).

 

McNally leads a pretty amazing supporting cast including the likes of Charles Bickford, Agnes Moorehead, and Jan Sterling. Bickford plays pretty much the same character he always plays, and as always he plays it brilliantly. One of cinema’s greatest character actors, it’s one of his best parts here. A Scottish-accented Agnes Moorehead is certainly well-cast in a sour, ignorant, but well-meaning part. She and Bickford add a lot of class to the film that just can’t be taught and it’s no surprise that they were both Oscar-nominated for their efforts. I always felt Jan Sterling deserved a much better career and she too is at her best here playing a love-struck woman who takes out her jealousy in a terrible, selfish, and stupid way. It’s a typically excellent performance from her. As for Lew Ayres, he can admittedly come across a tad patronising at times here (and probably didn’t deserve a Best Actor nomination at the Oscars that year), but that’s a minor issue.

 

Honestly, there isn’t a single major flaw in this film, it’s even pretty short. Well-acted, with a sensitive Jane Wyman simply unforgettable, the film also boasts a terrific sense of place, excellent score composition and cinematography. One of the best films of this type, for sure.

 

Rating: A

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Review: Hellraiser (2022)

Review: Cinderella (1950)

Review: Eugenie de Sade