The Suspect
Directed by Robert Siodmak
Written by Bertram Millhauser and James Ronald
Starring Charles Laughton and Ella Raines
Unrated
Runtime: 85 minutes
Showing at Lincoln Film Center in the series Robert Siodmak: Dark Visionary (Dec. 11-19)

by Andrea Schmidt, Staff Writer

A beautiful 4K restoration of The Suspect (1944) shines in the upcoming Film at Lincoln Center series Robert Siodmak: Dark Visionary, curated by Dan Sullivan and Madeline Whittle. An Edwardian film noir, The Suspect showcases an incredible performance by Charles Laughton, as well as an intriguing supporting cast.

Biographer Deborah Lazaroff Alpi defines director Robert Siodmak as a “man of contradictions,” and contradictions play throughout his film. Philip Marshall (Laughton) lives with his wife, Cora (Rosalind Ivan), and son, John (Dean Harens), in the fictional London neighborhood of Laburnum Terrace. “It was an unpretentious street, but it had a pretentious name,” states the opening credits. Gossiping neighbors characterize Philip and Cora’s wife as ideal. Their veneer of respectability contrasts with the couple next door. The odious drunkard Mr. Simmons (Henry Daniell) leaves his long-suffering wife (Molly Lamont) bruised and beaten. However, once the audience enters through the doors of the Marshall house, the squabbling never ceases. Their son, John, has decided to leave his mother’s abuses, and Philip uses this departure as a catalyst to ask his wife for a divorce. She refuses. Shortly thereafter, Philip meets a young woman named Mary Gray (Ella Raines) and the two develop a close, yet chaste, friendship. Cora discovers the relationship and threatens to expose Philip. Desperate to rid himself of his wife, Philip murders Cora, claiming she fell down the stairs. It appears Philip may finally have his longed-for happiness, but a suspicious detective (Stanley Ridges) and Mr. Simmons threaten to intervene.

Bertram Millhauser and James Ronald’s script has one-liners and narrative subtleties that get under one’s skin. The juxtaposition of lies within the film leads to a sustained sense of unease. The narrative does not suggest having an affair and murdering a spouse exist on the same ethical plane, but it is fascinating how Philip lies just as easily about one as he does the other. Moreover, the script plays with the obvious Freudian replacement of Philip for Mary’s father. When they first meet, Mary remarks that she has never felt “incredibly alone” since her father died. In the two-shot, Philip looks at her, already enamoured, and he certainly could be her father. His son is the same age. Later in the film, Mary expresses concern to her husband over John’s choice of romantic prospect. Mary and John pointedly refer to each other as “mother” and “son” in an affectionate (or, perhaps, flirtatious) exchange.

The performances ultimately sustain the film. In particular, the female supporting actors give a great deal of depth and nuance in what could have been a cypher of characters. The film’s critique of the British class system remains quite evident, represented by the odious wife-beating “gentleman” neighbor. Its gender politics remain a bit more ambiguous. In a performance that rescues the character from stereotypical gendered portrayal of the “nagging wife” Ivan imbues Cora with an underlying current of desperation. Raines has more screen time in Siodmak’s Phantom Lady, released the same year, yet, her Mary has glimpses of moral ambiguity that compel. One senses she could care less whether or not her new husband murdered his former wife. These choices make for a much more interesting characterization.

The film is not without its faults. Its twin noir film from that year, Phantom Lady, makes for a much more engrossing watch, whereas The Suspect tends to lag in brief moments. The American, solidly mid-Atlantic accents also detract at times from the characters. Molly Lamont beautifully plays Mrs. Simmons, but it is strange to hear about her desire to “return home to Devon” in a solidly American accent. John, born and raised in London, also has a New York-twinged cadence. However, as critic Geoff Andrew cites in his piece for the BFI retrospective nearly a decade ago, Siodmak can elicit “revelatory magic” within a “particular scene of sequence.” The scene where the detective reenacts the murder of Cora Marshall remains a stunning use of editing, cinematography, and voice-over. (As numerous film essayists and biographers have pointed out, the scene reads the influence of Hitchock collaborator, producer Joan Harrison.) I could not remember the last time in the last year of cinema-going I had been so transported. Even if The Suspect were available via streaming (it’s not), that minute alone merits a trip to the cinema to appreciate Siodmak’s craftsmanship.