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By
NICK ZEGARAC
Jean Negulesco's Johnny
Belinda (1948) is a decidedly frank little film
from Warner Brothers that provides a very
compelling portrait of a mute, Belinda MacDonald
played with uncharacteristic charm and depth by
Jane Wyman. Perceived by the town's folk as a
social outcast, Belinda has lived her life in
complete silence on a remote farm off the coast of
Nova Scotia, along with her gruff -- though
understanding father, Black (Charles Bickford) and
his sister Aggie (Agnes Moorehead). But things
begin to improve for all concerned with the
arrival of Dr. Robert Richardson (Lew Ayres, doing
a variation on his 'Young Dr. Kildare' persona
that made him a star). Dr. Richardson begins to
understand Belinda's isolation, teach her sign
language, and invest himself in restoring her to
the community at large. However, all his hard work
is seemingly shattered when Belinda becomes
pregnant. The town's folk -- already a bunch of
hypocrites -- assume the doctor has taken
advantage of Belinda and boycott the two socially.
Little does anyone suspect that boorish fisherman,
Locky McCormack (Stephen McNally) is the culprit
-- having raped Belinda one evening in the grist
mill.
Unable to speak her mind, Belinda accepts her lot
in life, bears the child and begins to raise him
on the farm. But the town's folk have already
decided that she is an unfit mother, and more to
the point, that Locky and his new wife, Stella
(Jan Sterling) should be the one's to adopt
Belinda's son. Attempting to take what he feels is
his, Locky murders Belinda's father by throwing
him off a cliff, before charging the house. He is
killed in an act of defense by Belinda, who is
shortly thereafter put on trial for his murder.
However, Stella -- it seems -- has had a change of
heart. The trial is anticlimactic, as Stella
confesses all the unholy surprises we've known
about since the start to a packed court room. The
ending is more or less a forgone conclusion -- not
very cathartic and rather disappointing,
considering the depth of character and narrative
director, Negulesco has infused up until that
moment. Nevertheless, the film certainly commands
a second look -- if only for Wyman's masterful
rendering of the spectrum of human emotions
without ever uttering a single word.
Warner Home Video's transfer on Johnny Belinda is
very solid. Occasionally, a hint of edge
enhancement crops up but nothing that will
distract from the otherwise near pristine black
and white picture. Grain is prevalent throughout.
The image is sharp with fine detail available even
during the darkest sequences. Whites are generally
clean. Blacks are solid and deep. The audio has
been cleaned up and is presented at an adequate
listening level. Extras boil down to two short
subjects and a trailer. Ho-hum. |
