Spotlight

Spotlight Date: 24-January-10
Spoiler Rating: Low

And Then There Were None (1945)

Who invented the murder-mystery genre where people assembled in a big house are killed off one by one? It is so neat and self-contained that it is irresistible. You cannot help absorbing the suspense of such a situation or imagining how you would act or criticizing how others are imagined to act. Years after the genre's introduction we can ponder whether it relies on a cultural past, i.e., whether the scenario could unfold in the traditional way now that common courtesy is uncommon and people are overtly childish. Would modern strangers cooped up with a killer maintain their decorum and try jointly to find a solution, or would they immediately give way to hysteria? (This brings up a related issue about whether the British stiff upper lip is required to make the concept work.) Or is context irrelevant because the whole tradition is wishful thinking about the composure of average people facing the inevitability of death?

If Agatha Christie did not invent this genre, she provided a great example with her enormously popular And Then There Were None (originally published with the unfortunate title "Ten Little Niggers"). The 1945 movie version shows how engrossing the story can be. Ten strangers arrive at an island mansion from which they have no escape. Three are servants summoned by an unseen employer and the rest are invited guests who have never met their host. The mastermind does not present himself. Instead, he leaves a record for the butler (Richard Haydn) to play on which he accuses each person of having caused one or more deaths. He also leaves clues to a song about ten little indians who die one after the other. The decimation of the party begins right after dinner. When the second corpse turns up those who are left realize the seriousness of the game and, bypassing the professional detective (Roland Young), start to coalesce around two elders: a judge (Barry Fitzgerald) and a doctor (Walter Huston, a marvelous presence). Suspicion runs rampant even as they band together with civility.

Humor offers a pleasant counterpoint to the suspense. In one scene several of the men peek at each other through keyholes until they pile up at each other's backs; in another the group votes the butler Most Likely to Be a Murderer so he responds by getting drunk. Females figure into the mix, notably a spinster who refuses to get ruffled (Judith Anderson) and a younger woman (June Duprez) who catches the eye of an eligible bachelor (Louis Hayward). True to form, the tension builds as the group grows smaller. Then the power goes out so that darkness escalates the terror. Although the book's ending was changed when it was adapted for stage and screen, the movie delivers satisfaction as only this tried-and-true concept can do.

Copyright © 2010 The Jujube (M. I. Kim). All rights reserved.