The Half-Full Monty: "I Confess" - It's Not One Of Hitchcock's Best

It’s easy to look back upon any successful Hollywood career spanning decades and ponder one’s lesser moments; be they of a personal or professional nature. The cyclical patterns of life to which we all yield make perfection impossible and sustained excellence nearly so. In the distinguished body of work left in the wake of director Alfred Hitchcock, his talent and opportunity combined to deliver a number of exceptional films. Unfortunately, the half-baked 1953 semi-noir/thriller I Confess isn’t one of them.

“I’ve never thought of the priesthood as a hiding place . . .”

As murder mysteries go, I Confess is rather unconventional. This, however, is not always a good thing. The George Tabori-William Archibald screenplay hamstrings the director right out of the gate. What could have been a tight, nifty thriller is scuttled in the first ten minutes by the revelation of the murderer’s identity; concealed by necessity through the confidentiality and sanctity of the confessional. Incumbent upon Father Logan (Montgomery Clift) is the burden assumed by his parishioner’s guilt combined with his own participation in the protracted soap opera that fleshes-out and submerges the plot like an involuntary nap in a wet basement.

In the opening night scenes of I Confess, Oscar-winning cinematographer Robert Burks (To Catch a Thief) reveals the shadowy murder amidst a ground-perspective camera and high-aspect single-source lighting in the effective and reliable film noir tradition. A series of quick cuts and an inquisitive moving camera bump the suspense with the promise of future intrigue; the fact that Hitchcock is at the wheel is cause for encouragement in this regard.

But it is here that the film suffers its first identity crisis. Thanks to Inspector Larrue (Karl Malden doing his finest Jack Webb imitation) we switch from mystery to extraneous and laborious police procedural; rather tedious business seeing that we have already been made privy to the information he seeks. The inner battle between Father Logan’s commitment to his vows and the desire for justice served requires him to walk a legal and moral tightrope that could have been interesting had Monty shown-up prepared and been given better material. As his association with Ruth Grandfort (Anne Baxter) an “old friend” married to a local politician becomes a crucial aspect to Larrue’s case, Clift adopts an odd indifference in the investigative scenes that makes him appear weak, bored and rather worthless as a friend and as a priest.

“The discomfort of people in close-quarters”

Old pro Hitchcock successfully uses these semi-claustrophobic police interviews to generate suspense. His mix of static shots and rolling close-ups catch well-timed nuance and give these scenes his infamous pending sense of quiet catastrophe. The issue of distraction here is that the allegedly-handsome Clift and his intense bird-like stare remind one of an owl engaged in rodent-rousting after midnight. There is also a certain perpetual physical discomfort he expresses in his performance that wears on the viewer. His self-conscious under-playing of Father Logan amounts to a mumbling conundrum that undermines both the mystery and melodramatic schizophrenia made slightly more interesting through Hitchcock’s use of left and right-panning dissolves to flashback.

In the case of I Confess the choice to update plot through montage and excessive flashback gives the film a documentary feel. Many such scenes play with no soundtrack other than voice-over testimony and an aimless and frenetic score composed by Dimitri Tiomkin. Scenes that would benefit from dialogue-only are rife with strings like swarms of killer-bees on the attack where memories of sub-standard 1940s movie serials prevail.

“$2,000! - We’ll start a new life... We’re Rich!”

Like the public’s collective suspension of disbelief, $2,000 went a lot further in 1953. At age thirty, Anne Baxter as the trademark cool Hitchcockian blonde already appears matronly and is totally unconvincing as an important central character. Her wartime love affair with the pre-ordained Logan has so little chemistry it’s almost comical to watch. Such a progression and convergence of blatant faults begs the question of what Hitchcock saw in the material and perhaps more significant is the similar questionable motivation of Clift, whose career was reaching its peak at this time.

The fact that I Confess is merely a competent and somewhat noteworthy film amounts to small consolation when considering the caliber of talent involved. My recommendation is one where visible chinks in the armor of several film legends are revealed for your consideration; in lieu of your unbridled enjoyment. We simply expect more from The Master as he uncharacteristically coasts between career peaks. A large part of life’s success requires the skillful play of the hand we’re dealt. Sadly, Hitchcock’s I Confess was dealt deuces in a no-fold game of jacks-or-better.

I Confess (1953)
Screenplay: George Tabori, William Archibald
Adapted from a play by Paul Anthelme
Director: Alfred Hitchcock
A Warner Bros. - First National Picture
DVD: Warner Home Video (2004)
VHS: Warner Home Video (1999)