The Halfway House (1944)

Directed by Basil Dearden; produced by Michael Balcon

In the midst of the war against Hitler, ten disparate people come to stay at a remote but snug Welsh inn. Each guest has his own reason for coming: one is a black marketeer seeking security, another a newly released convict; a dying orchestra conductor; a couple on the verge of divorce arrive with their child; another couple in love but in great disagreement and a third pair, bitter over the death of their son. What they find is nothing like what they expect, but it may be just what they need.

A few weeks ago, I reviewed a gentle but rather aimless ghost story called Beyond Tomorrow. Again, in The Halfway House, we are dealing with kindly ghosts - but the story is much more coherent and the ending far more satisfying. After the very mundane (as in ‘earth-bound’, not ‘ordinary’) introductions to the characters, we are brought to the inn, and there is no mystery as to the supernature of the innkeeper (Mervyn Johns) and his daughter (Glynis Johns): he materializes from thin air, and she casts no shadow on a sunny day. But The Halfway House isn’t a ghost story, really, and certainly not a horror film.

On one level, it is a propaganda piece, a story about different attitudes toward the World War, and the fight against tyranny. Johns, a Welshman in real-life as well as in the film, explains to a young Irish diplomatist (Pat McGrath) how national pride can’t interfere with international morality; the black marketeer (Alfred Drayton) subconsciously plans to be of use to the German invader. But, like all good propaganda work, it is effective on other levels, and thus the movie is not dated.

The Halfway House is about life, the choices we make in it, and how there is always a chance for betterment, as long as there is life. The daughter (Sally Ann Howes) of the divorcing couple (Richard Bird, Valerie White) plots to bring her parents together again, and when this goes awry, she complains to the innkeeper’s child about how horrid life is. The latter, killed as an adolescent, pauses before responding, and that hesitation is more eloquent than whole speeches about complaining of a life that isn’t, after all, so bad.

The script manages well to create an atmosphere that is eerie but not frightening. The day the guests arrive at the inn isn’t the day they think it is, and their slow realisation of where they are - and when they are - is rather suspenseful. The acting is good, except perhaps for Francoise Rosay, who portrays the woman whose son was killed. This is ‘her first English film’, as the credits read, and she may have been hampered by acting in a language not her own.

The Halfway House is an enjoyable, easy-going movie concerned with living, and with how we can affect others, even in death.