Black Narcissus (1947)
Attempting to succeed where others have failed is a durable story device, and 1947’s Black Narcissus brilliantly goes to extremes in its portrayal of a group of nuns who get more than they bargain for.
The story takes place in the Himalayas, where Sister Clodagh runs a mission and a school with a small group of nuns, all housed in a former harem up on the mountain. It’s an incredibly harsh ad unforgiving environment; the wind never stops, they’re isolated from everyone else, and there’s something strange and sinister about the place.
Sister Clodagh and the nuns are not the first religious group to live there, as a group of monks tried and failed to establish a monastery. Or so Mr. Dean, an Englishman in the village has told them.
The sisters aren’t completely alone on the mountain. The complex has a caretaker, Angu Ayah, who’s caustic and eccentric, plus there’s an old man keeping an eternal vigil on the property. He sits on the mountain and gazes out, motionless, while people bring him food and treat him as a god. Technically he has no right to be there, but Sister Clodagh tolerates him because the people revere him so much.
At first the school thrives, with lots of children and even a young general who wants an education. Then a baby in the village dies after the sister in the infirmary sends him home with a fever and the townspeople blame the nuns. Another sister, Ruth goes crazy and renounces her vows, putting on a red dress and lipstick before lurching down the mountain to Mr. Dean’s house, where she unsuccessfully tries to seduce him.
Sister Clodagh finds herself remembering her life before she became a nun in vivid flashbacks triggered by sounds, words or smells. One big question is, of course, whether the nuns will stick it out or leave. The other big question is, will they all go insane when all is said and done?
Black Narcissus is a Powell and Pressburg movie. Filmed at Pinewood Studios in England, the perpetual danger of Sister Clodagh’s mission is eerily faked with matte paintings. It’s hard not to gasp a little bit whenever any of the sisters rings the mission bell, which hangs right at the edge of a thousand-foot precipice.
The movie is highly stylized in typical Powell and Pressburg fashion, with bright color saturation, bright whites, pale fleshtones, and few deep shadows. As in The Red Shoes, the color red is cursed; everyone who wears it is marked for tragedy, although it’s not apparent at first. Red is also a symbol of defiance; when Sister Ruth puts on her red lipstick right in front of Sister Clodagh she’s basically flipping her off. Sister Clodagh’s composure is really remarkable, as she reaches for a book and sits reading it while Sister Ruth stares at her with daggers in her eyes.
Another thing the movie does really well is allow the actors time to play out their emotions. It’s almost like a dance, because there are movements and themes all flowing together with various moods and marks to hit that are timed to land in the most effective way. Powell and Pressburg were masters at this.
The only thing I would say is that the nuns’ attitude towards the villagers is sometimes condescendingly indulgent and they don’t always listen very well. In the movie’s favor, though, Sister Clodagh tries harder than probably anyone to understand the local culture and not act as if she’s the one saving people. I kind of wish there had been a little more done with that from a story standpoint, but on the other hand, there isn’t time because the film would get bogged down in exposition and Black Narcissus needs as much room as possible to land its punches.
Black Narcissus isn’t an easy movie to watch, but in its own way it draws us in and doesn’t let go.
Black Narcissus is currently streaming on HBO Max. Not rated.
My grade: A+
Principal cast: Deborah Kerr, David Farrar, Flora Robinson, Jenny Laird, Judith Furse, Kathleen Byron, Esmond Knight, Sabu, Jean Simmons, May Hallatt
Directed by Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger.
Written by Rumer Godden, Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger