The Seventh Victim is a unique
movie experience– in many, many ways. Some may
find it highly scary…others may find it more creepy than
scary. Others…find it neither. Like many viewers, I
was struck by its bleak outlook. A viewpoint that goes
beyond sad… closer to despair. You will come across
people trapped, for example:
–a woman doomed to remain at a boarding school she despises, a
tyrannical boss, no fulfillment in her life (the headmistress’
assistant)
–a kind-hearted poet unable to produce anything for 10 years
after writing a promising first book (Jason Hoag)
–a woman who joined a sect of Devil-worshippers because
nothing in her life brought her meaning, then quit the sect, still
not finding what she wanted (Jacqueline Gibson)
–a warm, caring attorney whose wife nevertheless abandoned
him, experiencing him as un-exciting, ultimately
boring (Gregory Ward)
–a suave, sardonic psychiatrist who talks a good game, but
ultimately unable to love anyone, even care about anyone
(Dr. Judd)
The Seventh Victim has a
storyline that is way more complex than it appears. In
addition, the movie was cut for length. Without the deleted
scenes, many of the relationships don’t quite make as much sense
as they could have.
You learn that Jacqueline Gibson has
disappeared. She is beautiful, sophisticated, artistic and
successful. Owner of a successful business. Desired by
a number of men, (and by some women as well). Her sister
Mary begins to search for her. Mary realizes quickly that
she is a latecomer; eventually she meets at least six other people
also searching for Jacqueline. Each one has an agenda of
their own. Knowledge is power and you see several subtle
power struggles going on.
Like Betsy, the heroine in
I Walked with a Zombie, Mary has an unfailing
good heart. But like Betsy,she is challenged again and again
by despair, terror and cynicism. When she leaves boarding
school to search for her sister, the headmistress’ assistant warns
Mary never to come back. That if she returns, her heart and
soul will be stifled by the school and its stern, unfeeling
headmistress.
Mary–realizing she is in over her head but refusing to give
up searching
But as critics have pointed out, freedom in
the outside world is not so different. Everywhere, people
struggle against loneliness and lack of purpose. Lost souls.
Check out the scene where Mary visits the
Missing Persons Bureau. The camera pans across three people
at three separate windows to Mary’s right. All three seem
filled with quiet desperation; not much hope they will ever see
their loved ones again.
It’s likely that most of the world felt this
despair then; Hitler’s Third Reich controlled most of Europe, with
a big push coming by the Nazis into the Soviet Union. People
watching this movie were worried about family members serving in
the war, or mourning their deaths.
You can make the argument that when the movie
finally shows the Palladists, the Devil-worshipping sect, the
members seem too dignified, too bland, appearing to lack any real
vicious side. I think this is a fair point.
But perhaps from the movie’s point of view,
the Palladists are just another group of lost souls, searching for
meaning, trying desperately to convince themselves they have found
something to believe in.
Except for Mary, few characters come out
looking like heroes They may have kind hearts, but they
cannot accomplish much. Jason Hoag, the kind,
romantic, philosophical poet, loses both the women he
loved most in his life. Gregory Ward, the attorney, can do
nothing to save Jacqueline, the woman he loved.
Mrs. Romari, an owner at the Dante Restaurant (even the name
of the restaurant suggests Hell) has a genuine sweetness to her,
but comes off totally naïve. She suggests for example that
Jason “cheer Mary up” (not exactly what Mary needs).
When Jason and the cynical Dr. Judd actually
confront the Palladists and tell them they (Jason and Judd) have
never forgotten the power of The Lord’s Prayer, you are
reassured…but not a lot. You don’t sit there thinking,
“Well I guess they told them where to get off.”
In fact, you may well feel that the Palladists
share the weaknesses of the “good” people. Their laws state
that any member who abandons their sect must die, yet the
Palladist laws bind their members to non-violence.
The Palladists gather in a room with
Jacqueline and do their best to convince her to drink poison.
But none of them is brimming over with charisma or great
powers of persuasion. Jacqueline refuses.
Condemned to death by the Palladists
Many mysteries
Finally the Palladists agree to resolve their
conflict by hiring a hit-man to kill Jacqueline. Jacqueline
barely escapes the killer and his switchblade, but has no remedy
for her despair. Neither God nor the Devil can provide her
with answers.
This is the world as producer Val Lewton, his
director and screenwriter see it. Presenting an outlook like
this took considerable courage and artistic integrity, even during
this gloomy time. (It is likely that Lewton accepted low
budgets and shorter running time; in exchange for less
restrictions and less studio interference.)
Think about how many movies from the 30’s,
40’s, 50’s, even the 60’s you have seen where a character loses
their way but is shown how to find faith again. Perhaps it’s
a minister, a doctor, or another respected parental figure; they
are able to point out the direction. The hero/heroine finds
their way back, with light focused, shining in their eyes and the
sounds of chiming bells on the soundtrack.
Remember the psychiatrist Robert Cummings in
King’s Row, who has seen insanity, misguided
violence and several other dirty, small-town secrets. The
ugliness he has seen strengthens his will to cure the people he
cares about.
The pain he has experienced (and he
experiences plenty) actually gives his life a greater sense of
purpose. The implication in
The Seventh Victim is far different: neither
religious faith, loving relationships, career success, artistic
expression have any substance. You can attend the house of
worship of your choice, as the old TV commercial goes, or even
worship the Devil, but ultimately…life is barren.
I don’t want to overemphasize this argument;
the movie’s outlook is not all barren. Mary is
capable of seeing the good in people, especially in Gregory, and
in Jason Hoag. And no one can miss the good in Mary.
Mary and Gregory stand a chance at long term happiness.
Jason has a gift at observing (for example, the way he talks
about looking out his picture window) allowing glimpses of life’s
joys to get through to him.
Then there is Jacqueline’s neighbor, knowing she is
dying of tuberculosis; past any hope of a cure. (Only
limited medicine for TB existed then.) After weeks, probably
months, of shutting herself in a lonely room, she goes out…dressed
in style, for a last night on the town. Determined to
experience all she still can from life.
I also don’t want to leave the impression
there are no scary moments in
The Seventh Victim. So much is
understated that when the hit-man’s knife opens, the noise makes
you jump. After endless innuendoes, it is the sound of true
violence; this guy is doing more than hinting.
Another scene you may describe as creepy… or
out-and-out terrifying, takes place when Mary showers in
her room alone. Mrs. Redi, Jacqueline’s business partner,
comes in, warns Mary to call off her search
now.
Though I find Mrs. Redi a bit whiny, I can’t
help being touched by Mary’s vulnerability at that moment, alone
and naked, so defenseless. Through the translucent curtain,
Mrs. Redi’s hat gives her the appearance of two horns—probably no
accident. Again, this may have been one of Val Lewton’s
trade-offs with the studio; flying under the radar, he had the
freedom to include something as daring as this in the 1940’s.
Like the rest of Val Lewton’s productions,
it’s not easy to catch everything on a single viewing. But
seeing it again will be worth your time, and never mind the
missing scenes that were edited out. Making this movie
cheaply gave Lewton a lot of freedom; he seized his
opportunity.
Jacqueline–out of hiding but impossible to keep safe