The Suspect (1944)
The film stars Charles Laughton, who's perhaps now best known for his sole directing credit, The Night of the Hunter, a 1955 film with similarly dubious yuletide credentials (though that's often counted as a Christmas movie for thematic reasons). While The Night of the Hunter is now (rightly) regarded as a classic, it was considered a failure at the time, which is why it's Laughton's only credited turn as a movie director. He was, however, considered a fantastic actor (also rightly).
The Suspect is set in 1902 London, which certainly sets it apart from the majority of American noir (or at least the ones I've seen). Despite this, its classification under the heading is well-deserved - this is a dark melodrama with a plot typical of noir crime thrillers.
Laughton plays Phillip, a kindly British store manager married to an abusive wife who's driven their adult son away. In response, he moves into a separate bedroom, as she repeatedly refuses to permit a divorce. Early in the movie we see Phillip confront a young boy at the store about some money he'd borrowed from the store. The amounts are trivial, but Phillip uses the opportunity to teach the boy a lesson, insisting these actions snowball, leading to a life of crime. Ultimately, he of course forgives the child - he's trying to scare the kid, not punish him. The whole sequence is portrayed as a fatherly scolding.
He also meets Mary, a young woman trying to find a job, and is immediately smitten. He helps her get work elsewhere and strikes up a friendship that blossoms into mutual attraction, despite Phillip's age. Eventually, Phillip's wife becomes suspicious and follows him. It's around this time that Phillip presses her for a divorce but is flatly refused. Realizing he's trapped in a loveless marriage, he tells Mary he can't see her any longer.
The movie jumps ahead to Christmas, and Phillip's wife reveals she knows about Mary. She vows to use her knowledge to destroy Phillip and Mary's reputations, an act that will cost them their jobs. Phillip promises that the relationship has ended and begs his wife to leave Mary alone, but she vows to destroy the woman. Phillip murders his wife to keep her from doing so, staging her death to seem accidental.
This naturally draws the attention of the police. Inspector Huxley starts asking questions, revealing to Phillip that he sees through the deception. He has no proof, however, nor does he have a motive until he learns about Mary's existence. But before he can question her, Phillip marries her, which ensures she can't be compelled to testify against him.
It's worth noting that Mary doesn't suspect Phillip of killing his wife - aside from Huxley, no one does really. Though once Huxley starts asking around, Phillip's neighbor, Gilbert, sees an opportunity. Gilbert is a drunken conman who Phillip despises due to the way he treats his wife, a woman Phillip admires and cares about. Soon, Gilbert comes by to blackmail Phillip, threatening to claim he heard a fight the night of the "accident." It's actually a lie - Gilbert doesn't think Phillip is guilty, merely vulnerable. If he'd believed Phillip was actually guilty, he probably would have thought twice before accepting a drink, which is of course poisoned.
After a few close calls, Phillip manages to stage this as a suicide. Once again, Huxley is on to him, but - again - there's no proof. Even so, Phillip decides it's in his best interest to leave the area, so he convinces Mary to move to Canada. On the day they're supposed to depart, Huxley meets Phillip to tell him they've learned Gilbert's death was a homicide. He also tells him they know who did it, fingering his widow, Edith. He lays out the case against her, including access to the poison, opportunity, and a motive, and assures Phillip she'll hang for the crime.
We soon learn this is all a ruse. Huxley knows it was Phillip, but he has no proof and nothing to trap him except, perhaps, for Phillip's decency. And, sure enough that's ultimately what undoes him. The movie closes with him on the way to turn himself in for the murder, under the false belief this is necessary to save an innocent woman.
There's a lot to appreciate here. It's not at all subtle, but I like how cleanly Phillip's warning to the child at the start of the movie foreshadows his own tragic fall. A seemingly trivial sin, lying to Mary about being married, escalates to worse and worse actions until inevitably leading to his confession.
Only there's a case to be made the original sin predates that and wasn't Phillip's, at all. Laws that empower abusers by complicating divorce actually seem to be the cause of suffering here. In both the case of Phillip and his neighbor, these allow abusive spouses control over their partners' lives. Both Phillip and Edith want to escape their predicaments, but the law and social order provide no recourse.
In the context of the movie, both murders are portrayed as justified, but - once again - the law is absolute. While Huxley is portrayed as righteous (as is typical for movie detectives of the era), this isn't a story about a man corrupted by crime; in fact, the ending hinges on the fact Phillip is still a good man. The audience is left reflecting on the circumstances that brought about this tragedy, and perhaps rethinking their admiration for those (such as Huxley) who adhere to an unforgiving social framework.
It's an interesting idea, though it's worth acknowledging that burying that idea within a story where a man murders his wife hasn't aged well. I think the movie perceives the horror of spousal abuse and depicts it effectively, but the fact it's ultimately used to justify violence against a woman obviously undermines the point it's making, at least to audiences familiar with actual crime statistics. I expect that will be a sticking point for many viewers, and understandably so. A straightforward misogynistic reading of Phillip's relationship with and murder of his wife is perfectly justified.
But to the movie's credit, Phillip's merits are largely tied to a rejection of typical masculinity. He's shown as kind, emotionally intelligent, and compassionate. Moreover, these are shown as desirable traits, as Mary is attracted to Phillip despite his age. The movie doesn't explicitly call out gender roles, but the subtext feels relevant.
Let's talk about that brief Christmas scene. There are a couple aspects of this I find interesting. First, it's always interesting to see the typical romantic aspects of the holidays inverted. A common use of the holidays in movies is as a symbol of hope for the future. Christmas and New Year's represented a new era, and have long been associated with relationships starting and love blossoming. Here, we see a marriage that's turned rotten, ending in death rather than love.
Though there's also an undercurrent of hope for a relationship between Phillip and Mary, even if we know it's destined to end tragically (the Hays Code kind of spoils the ending of every American movie from the era where a lead character commits a crime). In this regard, it's embracing the traditional use of the holidays, even as it inverts it.
Alternatively, you could connect this to symbolic associations with the death of the old year, here represented as a literal death. You could even read elements of sacrifice in the killing and explore the significance of renewal through Phillip's new love, though I doubt any of that was intended.
Layered into this, of course, is the obvious juxtaposition between the celebratory decorations the couple is putting up and both their disdain for each other and the violent murder (which, it should be noted, is entirely offscreen, as was common for films of the era). The use of contrast for suspense and later action films set at Christmas is common, but it's rare to see such a tense, psychologically grounded example.
Regardless, it all makes for a disturbing sequence in an engaging noir film. Laughton is great in the lead, as is Ella Raines as Mary (she somewhat miraculously sells the relationship, which is no small feat). The foggy, turn-of-the-century London streets make for an effective backdrop for the noir story. Between that and its focus on its leads' fear of capture, I was reminded of some of Hitchcock's earlier films (though director Robert Siodmak, while good, is no Hitchcock).
To reiterate, the movie's sympathetic portrayal of a man who kills his wife are understandably going to alienate some viewers - if that's a bridge too far, you'll probably want to skip this one. But there's enough going on here both on and below the surface to make for a compelling gem for anyone willing to overlook that aspect of the narrative.
The holiday elements make for a fun deviation from the norm and a fascinating case for yuletide nerds like myself, but - at risk of belaboring the point - all of this is relegated to a single scene that's over fairly quickly. This isn't something most people would even consider labeling a Christmas movie, and for once I have to agree.
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