Saturday, May 11, 2019

The Night of the Hunter


SPOILER ALERT! The plot will be discussed.


The Night of the Hunter was the only film directed by Oscar winning actor Charles Laughton. It’s too bad that the poor showing at the box office and the reviews of the critics at the time of its release in 1955 discouraged Laughton from doing more film directing. It is now considered one of the best films ever made, and is included in Roger Ebert’s The Great Movies.

The film is a scary fairy tale about children pursued by a predator, a sort of Big Bad Wolf. The character of Harry Powell (Robert Mitchum in a great performance) is the boogeyman in this story. Mitchum’s performance is all the more frightening because, except when Powell doesn’t get his way, he is not ranting and raving, but instead is charmingly seductive, which makes him even more dangerous because he can get close to his victims.



The film starts with a shot looking up at the stars. So, it’s night time, when bedtime stories are read to children, but it also is the time when sweet dreams occur, or horrifying nightmares invade our sleep. There is a lullaby which fits the time of day, with the words, “Dream, my little one, dream.” The words of the song talk of “the hunter in the night fills your childish heart with fright.” But, it goes on to say, “fear is only a dream.” Is that line just a way of trying to soften the impact of these scary stories on kids, or is it trying to urge children not to give in to fear, but instead deal with danger? The images and music set the stage for this cautionary story that puts both children and adults in jeopardy. There is the face of Rachel Cooper (Lillian Gish), who will appear again in the last part of the movie, as she reads from the bible to children, warning them of those “Who come in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly are ravenous wolves.” The movie cautions against those who present themselves as being righteous but are in fact evil.

There is an aerial view looking town on a small community, which could suggest a God’s eye perspective on human activities. The innocence of children playing games is undermined by the discovery of the body of a woman. Cooper’s voice-over says, “A good tree cannot bring forth evil fruit. Neither can a corrupt tree bring forth good fruit. Wherefore by their fruits, ye shall know them.” This biblical metaphor stresses that one can judge people, not just by what they say, but by their actions and the results of their behavior.


The next shot, again from above, appropriately zeroes in on Powell, driving an early model car, since the movie takes place during the Great Depression. He believes he is talking to the “Lord,” not about holy matters, but concerning how many he has killed in His name. He obviously was the person who murdered the woman found by the children. He says he awaits the word of the Lord to tell him who should be the next victim, and wonders if it will be another widow. He says that God allows him to get enough money to preach the Lord's word, since a widow usually has a little money stashed away to keep him going. We have here that wolf who is clothed in the words of a preacher. The film explores how religion can be perverted by a sinister, psychopathic person, convincing himself and others that he is doing God’s will, but who is really self-serving.

Powell, though believing he is God’s instrument, is so self-righteous that he feels it’s okay to complain about being tired and wondering if God realizes what He puts him through. He says that it isn’t the killing that bothers him, since the bible is full of that, thus, in his mind, justifying homicide. He understands the Lord hates “perfume-smellin’ things, lacy things, things with curly hair.” In these words, women aren’t considered humans, only objects, “things.” His real complaint with God is that there are just too many sinful women to kill. Powell’s character is a violent misogynist who wants to take the story of Eve in the Bible and use it as the justification to dole out divine punishment against women.

We then get an image of a scantily clad woman dancing on stage. Powell is in the audience, with a disgusted look on his face. He has the word “Hate” written, significantly, on the fingers of his left hand, “sinister” coming from the Latin word for “left.” He puts that hand in his pocket, and then the blade of a knife rips through the fabric of his coat. The image is a phallic one, a symbol of a violent erection, psychologically revealing male arousal coupled with guilt for having that response, and the urge to destroy what brought about the sinful excitement.

A policeman arrests Powell because the car he is driving is stolen. A judge sentences him to thirty days in the penitentiary. He is a man espousing God’s laws while breaking secular ones, rationalizing his actions by placing himself above human rules of behavior. (Abraham Lincoln’s picture hangs on the wall behind the judge, suggesting a non-religious figure that should be admired in contrast). Powell tells the judge that he is a preacher, but the judge is not going along with the hypocrisy, calling him a thief, and questioning why a man of God attended a show featuring a stripper.


Again, we get the shot from above, as if we are seeing what God sees, as the camera focuses on the prison where Powell is incarcerated, and then the view switches to a residential community. On the ground, two children play, and their father, Ben Harper (Peter Graves), arrives in his car. He is bleeding and carries a gun and ten thousand dollars, which he obviously stole. A police siren is heard in the background. He tells his son, John (Billy Chapin) that he has to take care of his sister, Pearl (Sally Jane Bruce) whose name suggests that a child is the real treasure, not money. Ben tells them to swear not to tell anyone, not even their mother, where the money will be hidden. So, Powell is just one version of the wrongdoing in the world, since here is a father corrupting his own children with his criminality. He is perverting the oath to tell the truth by asking them to promise to lie. The troopers arrive, knock the father down and handcuff him. In a scene similar to the one with Powell, Ben is now the man in front of the judge. This similarity equates the two men as father figures. Since Ben killed two men during the robbery, the judge sentences him to be hanged.

Ben winds up in the same cell as Powell. Because Ben reveals some information in his sleep about the money, Powell tries to get Ben to say where the cash is hidden while he is dreaming. Powell is like Freddy Krueger, a demon figure invading one’s dreams. Ben wakes up and hits Powell for trying to make him talk. Powell points out that Ben quoted scripture, saying a “child shall lead them.” We again have this ironic placement of the religious in the context of a criminal situation. In a sort of unholy confession to the phony preacher, Powell, Ben says he committed the crime because he was “tired of seein’ children roamin’ the woodlands without food, Children roamin’ the highways in this here Depression, Children sleepin’ in old abandoned car bodies in junk heaps. And I promised myself that I’d never see the day when my young-uns had want.” Although Ben breaking the law and killing others must be condemned, he places his actions in a broader context of how desperate economic situations can create circumstances that can produce deadly behavior. Powell says he could use the stolen money to build a place of worship better than that of another preacher. Powell’s plan for the money springs from envious competition instead of any care for the suffering of others, which is what religion is supposed to stand for. Ben is cynical about all that Powell says.

Powell reveals that on the fingers of his right hand is the word “Love,” showing, along with his other hand, the duality in the world at large. (Spike Lee borrowed the hand image for his film, Do the Right Thing, and displayed the words on his own hands at the 2019 Oscar ceremony). Powell prays to God, seeing the placement of Ben in his cell as an act of providence, leading him as the Lord’s disciple to the ten grand, and providing him with another future widow, Ben’s wife, to take advantage of.

Bart, the guard who participated in Ben’s execution, goes home to his wife and two children, just like the man he just killed, showing that there is a shared connection between those that commit crimes and those that carry out the punishment. This observation suggests that, depending on the circumstances, events could be reversed for the two men. Bart wonders whether he should quit his job at the prison, probably finding it too stressful to carry out his duties. He considers that maybe he should return to his job working in the mines. His wife says it would only have made her a young widow if he had stayed there. The conversation shows how the trying financial times have placed a heavy burden on people, forcing them to make choices among punishing alternatives. Bart tucks in his two children as they sleep, hopefully having innocent dreams in a world of nightmarish reality.

The move to the next scene is a good transition since we go from the man who was involved in a hanging to where there are children in a playground who are singing about what a hangman does. One boy draws stick figures involved in a hanging as Ben’s children hear and watch. Even young Pearl starts to sing the song, which her older brother John tells her to stop doing, since he is embarrassed to know it has to do with their father. The words of poet William Butler Yeats come to mind about “The ceremony of innocence is drowned,” as we see how corruption penetrates the lives of children.

Willa (Shelley Winters), Ben’s widow, works at the ice cream parlor (a symbol of American small town wholesomeness) owned by the appropriately named Icey Spoon (Evelyn Varden), and her husband. Icey tells Willa that it’s God’s will that a woman should have a husband to raise children. (This takes place during the 1930’s, remember). Willa says she doesn’t want to get married, probably since her first husband turned out to be a thief and a killer. We then get cuts to a train at night with bass-infused ominous music in the background, suggesting, despite Icey’s reference to God’s plans, that Willa’s future spouse may be one sent from hell, not heaven.
Pearl asks John to tell her a bedtime story, which continues the dream/fairy-tale theme. Her brother is an imaginative child who starts a tale that mirrors his father’s story, about a rich king who was taken away by bad men. He told his son to keep secret where his gold was hidden in case the bad men came back for it. As he talks about these “bad” men, on cue, there is the dark shadow of a man’s profile pictured against the window shade behind John. The looming image frightens Pearl. Outside Powell’s scary figure stands just outside the supposed safety of the home enclosed by a deceptively reassuring picket fence. He sings a hymn with the words, “Leaning, leaning. Safe and secure from all alarms. Leaning, leaning, leaning on the everlasting arms.” Again, we have the weird mixture of religious hope with the threat of danger behind it.

John enjoys looking at a steamboat passing by on the town’s river edge, which suggests an escape to a better life. But, as he tells his friend, Uncle Birdie (James Gleason), an older man living in a shack near the river, John’s freedom has been restricted, having been tasked with watching over Pearl. The man says he needs to “sweeten” his coffee, putting whiskey in it, while flattening down a picture of his departed wife who tried to keep him away from alcohol, saying as an old man he needs some fuel in the morning to keep his “boilers” working. His words imply that decadence increases with the decay brought on by aging, emphasizing the fragility of earthly life. Here it is the woman who tries to thwart, not engage in, temptation. He informs John that there is a man in town who knew Ben in prison.


That man is, of course, Powell, who John finds at the ice cream parlor talking about Ben. He has already tried to weasel his way into their lives with Pearl sitting on the counter in front of him. Powell says he has come to comfort Ben’s family. Icey is a gullible religious person who has already allowed Powell to win her over as she praises him for going out of his way to cheer a “grievin’ widow.” He lies, presenting a false picture of himself as a caring man who worked at the penitentiary as a preacher, offering religious hope to the inmates. He acts like a sensitive soul since he says he had to leave his position because the place was too “heart rendin.’”

Powell then tells the story of love and hate, “good and evil,” since John stares at his fingers. Powell says that it was with the left hand that Cain killed his brother, Abel. He interlaces the fingers of both hands and says life is a battle between the two forces, as his two hands wrestle with each other. He shows “love” winning, but we know from his past that his contempt for women has won over his mind, and he actually represents the forces of “hate.” He presents a benevolent Dr. Jekyll surface that covers a violent Mr. Hyde lurking below. Powell holds Pearl in his lap, looking paternal. Willa, although appearing sad, wants John to show some appreciation concerning Powell’s stated intentions. But John has been growing up quickly because of what happened to his dad, and has a scowl on his face. Powell says that Ben told him that his children were like two little lambs, the reference implying innocence. But, are these lambs being led to the slaughter? Icey says she wants Powell to come to the town picnic.
Powell does attend, and he sings with the others there about “Bringing in the Sheaves,” although his harvesting plans are more diabolical. Willa also sings, but her eyes are downcast, and she looks like she is just going through the motions in her dejected state. Icey wants to play matchmaker, saying Powell is ripe to settle down. Willa counters by saying that John doesn’t care for him, and she, being rightfully concerned, wonders if Powell could be there to get at the missing money that Ben stole. The film is pretty cynical about relationships between men and women. Icey says, “A husband’s one piece of store goods you never know ‘til you get it home and take the paper off,” suggesting the unpredictability of what kind of man a woman may end up marrying. She, therefore, concedes the inability to prevent an unhappy union. She presents the jaded perspective of the adult world, saying that in her married life, she cared more about her “canning” than her husband. She basically believes that all that emphasis on love sustaining a marriage is just talk, and it really is just a practical arrangement. To her, she says that romance is a “fake” and a “pipe dream.” For Icey, “a woman’s a fool to marry” for sexual gratification. She believes physical pleasure is “for a man. The Good Lord never meant for a decent woman to want that.” Her old-fashioned views equating sin with sex, even within a marriage, if taken to an extreme, as Powell does, can be perverted into justifying violent punishment toward females who seek physical gratification.


Willa and Powell talk alone, and she asks him if he knows what Ben did with the money. Powell says that on the night before his death, Ben told Powell that he wrapped the money around a cobblestone rock and sent it to the bottom of the river. Willa feels liberated, thinking that Powell is not there to get any money. She says she feels “clean” because with the money out of the picture, it can no longer taint her life. But, John smiles, because he knows that what Powell said is not what happened to the cash, and, thus, this stranger can’t get at it. But, Powell is just being deceptive again, lying about what Ben told him, to set the family up by putting them at ease so he can eventually discover where the cash is hidden.

Coming back at night from Uncle Birdie’s, the part of the day that points to the title as the time of the hunter, John is eerily surprised by the predatory Powell who tells the boy that his mom and he are going to get married. John says that he isn’t his father and never will be. He then makes a child’s mistake because he is not used to dealing with deception, and says that Powell is just trying to get John to tell him where the money is hidden. Now Powell knows that John was told by his dad where he hid the cash. John immediately realizes he said too much and covers his mouth. Powell, with a sly smile, asks if he is keeping secrets. Then he ominously says not to worry because they have a long time together for him to find out what John knows. The younger, more innocent Pearl, more vulnerable to lies, says she loves Powell and wants to tell him about the robbery, but John tries to persuade her not to say anything.

Willa gets ready for the wedding night and finds Powell’s knife in his coat pocket. He earlier told Ben the weapon was a type of holy sword, but it really represents a perversion of the male sex drive. When Willa comes to bed, Powell lectures Willa about how marriage should not be about disgusting “pawing,” (which sounds animal-like) but instead is the joining of “two spirits.” He commands that Willa look at herself in the mirror. He says that her body was meant by God for procreation, not satisfying the lust of men (forget about the fact that women might want to experience pleasure. That would be unthinkable to a man like Powell). Since she confesses that she wants no more children, the marriage should be sexless according to her new husband. Powell’s distorted view toward women is shrouded in religious pretensions to purity, and Willa, accepting how men have blamed women for making them fail God’s test of temptation, feels depraved as she prays to become “clean” to comply with Powell’s version of a wife.

Uncle Birdie takes John fishing, and apologizes for cursing in front of the boy, given the supposed preacher status of his stepdad. But John, almost in rebellion against the fatherly usurper, doesn’t seem to mind. Birdie promises John that he will be there for the boy if needed, as if Birdie expects there will be trouble from Powell. He catches a fish, curses it because it has been a threat to fishermen because it steals bait, and he kills it. The scene seems to imply that Powell is analogous to the nasty fish that takes from others out of selfishness.


At an evangelical event that Powell hosts, Willa says she was a sinner for causing Ben to rob and kill so she could have perfume, clothes, and cosmetics. Powell preaches an interpretation of Genesis that absolves men of responsibility for doing any wrongs, and instead puts the blame on women for using their seductive ways. causing men to sin.

Pearl is in the backyard of the house and has retrieved the stolen money. But, being an innocent child who doesn’t realize the crimes people will commit to acquire wealth, only sees it as something to play with, and cuts a couple of the bills into paper dolls that represent her and John. Her brother finds her with the cash and hurries to hide it as Powell comes to get them inside. The camera stays low as we see a couple of escaped bills blown under the back porch as if the greed for wealth contaminates the home. Powell confronts John with his usual deceptive good-natured manner which tries to hide his sinister intents. He says he knows that John told his mother that Powell asked him about the money. But, he says that it doesn’t matter, because she believes Powell over her son when he told her John was mistaken. John is open-mouthed in surprise that Willa took the word of Powell over her own boy. This realization furthers John on his coming-of-age journey that tries to destroy his hope for happiness.

Willa, under Powell’s religious charismatic spell, thinks that her son is just being impudent and stubborn about not accepting Powell as his stepfather. John continues to tell her that Powell asks about the money, but she accepted Powell’s story about it being at the bottom of the river because that is the story she wants to believe, relieving her of any ties to Ben’s crimes. Willa tells Icey that she is happy to take on the burden of trying to reconcile Powell and John, probably seeing it as a form of penance to rid herself of her sins.

Powell continues to pressure the resistant John about the money. He then feels he can persuade Pearl, who is too young to perceive Powell’s evil ways, to get her to tell him where the cash is. He plays a game of revealing secrets, as he perverts the childhood way of having fun. Powell takes on the role he condemns, that of Eve, as he tempts others to do wrong. Before she says anything, John hits Powell with a hairbrush. Powell starts to take Pearl out of the bedroom, but she picks up the doll in which the siblings stashed the cash. The stolen money, acquired in a bloody theft, representing adult depravity, hidden in the toy of a guileless child, is another symbol of contrasts, like the words on Powell’s fingers, pointing to warring moral forces.

Willa, outside before entering the house, hears Powell trying to turn Pearl against her own brother, telling her he is a bad person. He asks about the money, and when she hesitates, he calls her a “a little wretch” and threatens to tear her arm off. Pearl screams and runs away from him. There is a cut to Icey and her husband, Walter (Don Beddoe), who says there is something off about Powell, and is worried about Willa. It seems that the men, the judge, Ben, John, Birdie and Walter are able to see through Powell’s fake, pleasant, holy exterior, maybe because they see something of the frailty of themselves in him. The women he killed, and now Icey, Willa, and Pearl are seduced by his charms, possibly showing how society has made women vulnerable so as to require them to depend on men.


Later, in bed, Willa has finished her prayers, and tells Powell that she now knows that Ben didn’t tell Powell the money was at the bottom of the river. Powell then savagely smacks Willa across the face for having questioned him. But she takes the attack in stride. Instead of being outraged about his lies and abusiveness, she sees the money still being around as “tainting” their lives, it, not Powell, being the problem. She says she realizes that he knew about the money, but she has drunk the Kool Aid, and believes that God sent Powell to her not just so he could get the money but to help her save her soul. Powell exploits the biblical blame placed on women and makes females want to atone for the horrible crime that Eve perpetuated, causing humans to be expelled from paradise. The shot of their bedroom has a peaked ceiling, looking like a church interior, but there is nothing holy about what is happening. Powell, realizing that he can’t afford to have Willa know about his plans to get the stolen money, takes out his knife, and kills her, as he probably planned to do as soon as he found the money, and as he did with the other widows he cast his spell on. Like Norman Bates in Psycho, Powell’s pathology allows him to penetrate a woman only violently, with a blade.

John wakes up in the middle of the night and hears a car starting up, but goes back to sleep with the money-doll between him and Pearl, an image of adult corruption violating their childhood. Powell shows up at the ice cream parlor acting sad because he says that Willa took the Ford Model T and left him and the children. He has staged his deception, painting women again as sinners, to divert others away from his own evil. He quotes scripture as he bemoans the deceptive ways of women taken over by Satan. Suspicious Walter asks if he had a feeling about something being wrong with Willa. Powell says on their honeymoon night Willa, (not him), turned away from her husband, refusing intimate relations. The hoodwinked female, Icey, probably believes there must be something seriously wrong with Willa for refusing such a righteous hunk as Powell. Walter, at least questioning what happened, wants to know if Willa left a note. Powell says she did, but he burned it since it reeked of hell, as he continues to weld religious justifications onto all of his actions. Powell says he sees it as his responsibility to now take care of the children. When Walter suggests that Willa might return, Powell’s chilling response is that he can guarantee that she won’t. He has succeeded in infiltrating the family, and now can get the information out of the children about the money with no adult to prevent him.
There is a shot of Willa in her car, with her throat cut, at the bottom of the river (taking the place of the money in Powell’s story), her hair mixing sadly with the seaweed. But, above Birdie is fishing, the hook at the end of his line getting close to the car that represents literally and figuratively how Powell has submerged his crime. Birdie looks into the water and can see Willa in the car, and is horrified.

We hear Powell again singing “Leaning, leaning,” as Birdie looks at the body, followed by the words, “Safe and secure,” which state how God is supposed to be protecting his flock, coming, ironically, from a man who does just the opposite. Powell is leaning against a tree outside the house, like that wolf in sheep’s clothing, calmly ready to pounce on its prey. John has Pearl hiding with him in the coal cellar. Powell says he can hear them whispering down there, and says almost playfully, that he can feel himself getting mad. Everything about him is geared toward drawing others in by presenting a deceptively pleasant surface, but it comes with an escalating threat of danger when he starts to not get his way, and culminates into violence when thwarted. Icey shows up and unwittingly delays his plans. He says that the two children are just playing and won’t obey him. Because of her lack of insight, she aids this devil, and gets the two children to come upstairs before leaving.

There is a quick scene with Birdie, getting drunk, talking to the picture of his deceased wife, saying he saw the slit in Willa’s throat, looking like a second mouth. But, he knows that the supposedly upstanding preacher Powell knows how to play the game of persuading others by blinding them with his pious presentation. Birdie, although intoxicated, still realizes that Powell can spin the facts and make it look as if Birdie is the one who killed Willa.



Back at the house, Powell has a table full of food, and is again the tempter, trying to get Birdie to reveal the secret of where the money is. When she says John says not to tell, his pleasant manner gives way to yelling and pounding the table. He calls John a “meddler” and flashes his knife, saying he uses it to deal with “meddlers.” She reaches for the blade and Powell says he becomes very angry if anyone tries to touch his weapon, (his penis-substitute knife), almost as if he feels to do so is to violate him sexually. This whole scene is effectively disturbing, as Powell says that John doesn’t matter, and Powell is abusive toward Pearl, calling her a “disgusting little wretch.” Typical of an abusive male, he then follows that derogatory comment with how sorry he is, but still blames the young female for making him mad.

John says that he’ll tell him where the money is since he doesn’t want Powell bothering Pearl. He says that the cash is in the cellar under a rock. He is hoping Powell will go down there and they can escape. But Powell makes them go down the cellar with him. There is no stone floor, only concrete, and Pearl, almost echoing Powell, showing the bad preacher’s effect on her, says that John is a sinner for telling a lie. Crazy Powell says the Lord is talking to him now, and he grabs John and pushes his head down onto a barrel of apples (suggesting the apple in Eden?), and, in a reversal of the truth, says the Lord is calling John an “abomination.” He pulls his knife out and threatens to cut the boy’s throat. To save her brother, Pearl reveals that the money is in the doll. Powell laughs and says it’s the last place one would look, or at least him, because even though he fools others by appearing harmless, he can be fooled by what appears to be innocent because he sees evil everywhere.

John snuffs out the candle, and makes a shelf of preserves fall down, hitting Powell on the head, and causing him to slip on a jar. As the two children try to escape up the stairs, Powell climbs the stairs after them, his hands outstretched, making him look like Frankenstein’s monster. John slams the cellar door on Powell’s hand, and the man even growls like a predatory animal. He calls the children the “spawn of the devil,” demonstrating to such an extreme he has inverted what is right and wrong. The children go to Birdie for help, but he is passed out drunk. The children flee to the river and get on a boat as Powell, who has broken out of the locked cellar, pursues them. He is slowed down in the mud (mired in his own evil?) which prevents him from reaching their boat in time. He then screams like the maniac that he truly is.




The children’s ride seems surrealistic, almost dream-like, fitting a fairy-tale story. It is night, and the music mimics the twinkling of the stars, which we saw at the beginning of the film as it foreshadowed the later appearance of Cooper who warned about false prophets. Unlike the other women, she is aware of what a satanic force Powell is, and she represents the “love” written on Powell’s fingers. Pearl sings in a sweet voice, but her song in contrast deals with loss, as the words tell of a fly whose wife flew away, and that the children of the female fly also flew away. The lyrics reflect the loss in her own family. The boat drifts by a tree and the shot is filmed through a spider web, implying that the boy and girl are similar to the flies that may fly away to freedom but also may be caught in Powell’s lethal web.

A week has passed and Powell lies again, saying in a note that Walter reads that he took the children away for a while. Powell is riding a horse (a “pale” one, like some biblical apocalyptic figure) as he hunts John and Pearl. The throes of the Great Depression are depicted as hitting everyone, as John and Pearl are among the hungry children that Ben spoke of who wander the countryside begging for some food. They get potatoes from a sad looking woman who barely has enough to spare. The failure of society to care for its young thrusts the boys and girls out of their innocent world into a threatening one.
Powell gets a job picking fruit, and ironically lectures the other male workers about how the forces of evil are winning, he actually being one of their dark soldiers. They, like the other males in the tale, seem bored and uninterested, taking no comfort in Powell’s words. In the meantime, John and Pearl continue on their Huckleberry Finn type journey down the river, as we see several animals, including a frog, turtle, and some rabbits on the shoreline. They appear enlarged, being in the foreground, and look like giants in contrast to the children in the boat, suggesting the dangerous voyage of John and Pearl. They stop at a farm and John says they will sleep on land this time. The woman who lives there sings a loving lullaby as the two bed down in the barn with the cows during this brief respite from terror. But, John wakes to the warning sounds of a dog barking. He hears Powell’s ominous singing of “Leaning, leaning,” which contrasts with the comforting voice of the woman the night before. John asks doesn’t he ever sleep, which sounds as if he is asking does evil ever sleep?

They flee back to the river. As they sleep, their boat gets caught in bushes and comes to rest. They meet Mrs. Cooper, who is stern, but who has given sanctuary in her house to several young girls. She wants to wash Pearl and John, and talks about how she now has a couple more youngsters to take care of. She spanks John when he tries to run away from getting a bath, not a form of discipline we would recommend today. She probably believes it is her role to give them the parental guidance and care that they have been deprived of. That is why she calls herself a “strong tree” with room for many “birds.” When walking in town with the young children, a woman comes up to her daughter and says she is working to make things better for them. Cooper tells the mother to make sure she shows up at church service. Unlike Powell, she practices what she preaches. Cooper sounds like Icey in saying how women act foolish as they fall in love and have children. She smilingly, says, after observing a woman kissing a man, “She’ll be losing her mind to a tricky mouth and a full moon, and like as not, I’ll be saddled with the consequences,” that is, another child to rescue. So, women, the film says, are immersed in and seduced by a patriarchal system which falsely promises a life of romance. Unfortunately, many of the females succumb to the fakery.
At night, Cooper takes a bible out and John, soured by Powell’s hypocrisy, goes outside. So, Cooper tells him how, like Pearl and John, Moses washed up on shore, and he turned out to be a king and savior, offering John the hope of a fulfilling life. She kindly asks John to get apples for the both of them. Here, instead of the apples being associated with a fallen Eve, they are linked in contrast to a holy woman not corrupted by temptation. John seems to warm up to the old lady, now becoming interested in the story of the pharaohs.

One of Cooper’s girls, the older Ruby, meets some boys in town, and is an example of females allowing themselves to be seduced by the attention and physical admiration of males. As one of the youths approaches Ruby, Powell intervenes, and buys the girl ice cream and tells her how pretty she is, almost like the grooming act of a pederast. He uses his compliments to get confirmation from Ruby that Cooper has Pearl and John with her, and that the doll with the money is there, too. As he walks away after getting what he needs, like a satisfied man leaving a woman after being sexually gratified, Ruby still wants more compliments about how pretty she is. Powell then has a mean look, with his left hand in his pocket, and the sound of the knife is heard as it clicks open, again suggesting his violent reaction to purge his guilt about being involved in a form of sexual encounter. But, he can’t hurt the girl in public, and leaves.

Ruby, realizing she has been “bad,” confesses (which takes on its religious connotation in this story) that she was in town, “out with men,” and that last word is delivered sounding as if males are the source of all corruption. Cooper is forgiving, saying how we all look for love, only Ruby looked for it “in the only foolish way you knew how,” with selfish men. Cooper says she lost the love of her son, but found it again with the children in her care. Cooper seems to be more of an embodiment of the New Testament’s call for forgiveness and love, and Powell appears like a deranged, vengeful religious emissary. Ruby tells of meeting Powell, and the suspicious Cooper wonders why he asked about the children.

Powell shows up at the Cooper farm and Ruby identifies him as the man from town. He calls the children “lambs” and “chicks” which seems affectionate, but in reality reveals how he sees them as a hunter’s prey. He tries to win Cooper over, as he did other women, with his religious spiel, talking about the words on his fingers. But, she brushes off his pitch with probing questions about where is the mother, and why didn't she take the children, and how the two came up the river in a boat. He says that his wife is “down river,” which, given that she is under the water, comes off as a dark joke. Powell says that the two children are his “own flesh and blood,” and that lie is exposed when John shows up looking upset and says that Powell is not his father. Cooper discerns Powell’s false religious facade and says, “and he ain’t no preacher, neither.” Powell then drops his fake pleasant face and replaces it with his true hateful one. John grabs the doll that sits at the foot of the steps and climbs under the porch. Powell starts to go after him with his knife exposed. But Cooper, sort of visually mocking the man for bringing a knife to a gunfight, points a shotgun at Powell and tells him to leave. Powell, calling the females “whores of Babylon,” resorting to his demonizing of women, says he will return at night, which is an appropriate time for his dark, nightmarish character. Although it is not too bright revealing when he will show up again, Powell thinks he has the almighty on his side, so he’s probably feeling secure in that belief.



And Powell shows up at night as he said he would, singing the “Leaning” song again that is supposed to be a religious comfort but becomes more and more menacing each time he sings it. Cooper, however, is on guard duty, looking like an armed “Whistler’s Mother,” as Roger Ebert pointed out, sitting with her rifle in a rocker. She is a frail woman compared to the muscular Powell, so we sort of have a David and Goliath contest, with true faith making her the stronger of the two. Cooper then sings along too, not giving Powell domination over the religious words, as they verbally duel over who has the right to represent the righteous way. Cooper looks at an owl moving its head, observing its victim, a rabbit, before it swoops down for the attack, mirroring the actions of the hunter, Powell. Cooper says, “It’s a hard world for little things,” and then there is a shot of the children, who, like the rabbit, are at risk in this dangerous environment.

Cooper, marching back and forth in the house next to the children like a sentry, tells the youngsters about how Herod tried to prevent Jesus from growing up, and asks how did Mary and Joseph deal with that danger. John says they ran away, and that is what Cooper tells them to do as Powell is seen only as a shadow, resembling a supernatural spirit, and only his threatening voice can be heard. He says he wants the children. When he appears out of the darkness, Cooper shoots, apparently wounding Powell, who runs and jumps while screaming out of the house toward the barn like an inhuman banshee. Cooper calls the police and tells them she has someone in her barn. The police come and arrest Powell for Willa’s murder. As they push Powell to the ground and handcuff him, John runs with the doll and yells, “No!” several times. The image reminds John of how his father, Ben, was arrested, and stresses how life has ripped his parents away from him. John hits Powell with the doll as the money flies out, as the boy says he doesn’t want the cash. For him, after all that he has been through, it truly is the root of all evil.

In the courtroom, the people call Powell “Bluebeard,” because of all of the widows he killed, and they want him executed. On the witness stand, only the prosecutor’s finger is seen pointing at Powell, which brings to mind that Satan is called the “accuser” who tries to undermine the beliefs of others with his accusations. John will not look at or identify Powell, being Christ-like in his mercy. Cooper takes him and the other children out to dinner, but Icey comes along with a mob yelling about how the children were Powell’s victims. However, they did not see Powell for what he was and take no responsibility for welcoming him into their town. The people turn into a lynch mob, and even in their righteous indignation, they still show an ugly side to people, and Cooper tries to remove the children from that aspect of the townspeople. These scenes take place at Christmas, which adds an irony to the mob’s actions. As the police take Powell out of the jail to protect him from the citizens, they see the executioner, Bart, who felt depressed about his job, but now says it will be a “privilege” to carry out his work on Powell. Merry Christmas, indeed.
The last scene of the movie has Cooper with her youngsters exchanging Christmas gifts. Cooper gives John a new watch, maybe suggesting that she is giving him time to be a child again. John gives Cooper an apple, which is what she gave him earlier. John is the only male at Cooper’s place, suggesting that maybe men, despite their wicked ways, can be saved. Again, the apple here is not the one of temptation that condemns women and whose biblical significance was used by Powell to unleash his vengeance against females. Instead, it is depicted here as a symbol of caring and nourishment, both physical and spiritual that springs from love.

After a week off, the next film is Wonder Boys.

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