Cinema: The New Pictures, Jul. 25, 1955

The Shrike (Universal-International), adapted from Joseph Kramm’s coldly furious Pulitzer Prizewinning play (TIME, Jan. 28, 1952), is both colder and angrier than it was on the stage. As a Broadway hit, it was a protesting shocker about an intelligent but morally weak man, who summons enough resolution to try suicide, only to revive in the white hell of a big-city hospital’s psychiatric ward. Ably directed by Co-Star José Ferrer, the film protests not only against municipal snake pits but also against another unattractive institution-marriage between crutchlike women and emotionally crippled men.

A black-masked bird with unsavory instincts, the shrike impales its prey on a thorn. In human form, the impaler is Ann Downs (tautly played by June Allyson), the impaled victim is husband Jim (Ferrer), the thorn their marriage. In flashbacks, the wife is shown mothering and dominating docile Jim. When his theatrical career crumbles for want of ever more inner props, Jim tries, in despair, to attach himself to another woman (Joy Page). But her reluctance to play Mom finally drives him to a jar of sleeping pills.

From a fellow inmate in the hospital, where the craziest are happiest, Jim learns the reverse twist of an old common-law principle as applied to madness: “They don’t have to prove that you are. You have to prove that you’re not.” Trying to prove his sanity, Jim nearly topples off the brink of reason. He is pushed toward the edge by the inquisitions of the psychiatrists, and by the maddening knowledge that Ann will let him rot in asylums unless he returns to her arms alone. At last, all yearnings for independence crushed, any chances of even loosening the apron strings gone, he spews a false confession that is a frightening travesty of a Soviet purge trial. Pleased that their patient again realizes his need for a protective wife, the psychiatrists let Jim go from the city’s custody to Ann’s.

Sensitively written, directed and acted, The Shrike is a depressing experience but will probably rank on many counts as one of the year’s outstanding movies. Like a long-burning fuse, it mounts a harrowing suspense throughout. But with the woeful situation still sizzling grimly at the end, some may feel cheated of a relieving explosion.

The Cobweb (MGM) shows how a well-run psychiatric clinic turns into a bedlam simply because good, greying Dr. Richard Widmark is indifferent to his pouting wife, Gloria Grahame. The fireworks start over a set of new draperies for the patients library. Gloria, embarked on a rare good deed to impress her husband, decides to buy some expensive new ones. This upsets crotchety Lillian Gish, business manager of the clinic, who has her irascible eye fixed on some bargain cotton. Even worse, the clinic therapist, Lauren Bacall, has already promised Problem-Patient John Kerr that he can design the new draperies himself.

Out of this minor skirmish grows an increasing uproar that causes the ruin of Dr. Charles Boyer, titular head of the clinic, disrupts the budding romance between Widmark and Bacall, drives most of the inmates into an all-night binge, and sends hysterical John Kerr off to the river, bent on suicide. By this time, moviegoers have difficulty distinguishing the sane from the unbalanced.

Though failing in its overall effect, Cobweb has in its favor some sharply etched scenes, e.g., the dramatic clash of wills between Patient Kerr and Dr. Widmark during an analytic session. Veteran Lillian Gish, as a wig-wearing termagant determined to be on the winning side in any quarrel, gives the most stylish performance in the film.