Obsession (a.k.a. The Hidden Room) (1949)

Directed by Edward Dmytryk; produced by N. A. Bronsten

A psychiatrist (Robert Newton) has suffered the indignity of his wife’s infidelities too long to put up with them any longer. He devises a complicated plan, not only to kill his rival (Phil Brown) but to torment the cheating spouse (Sally Gray). In a cynical game of nerves among the trio, no one’s expectations are fulfilled, and the climax won’t be what any of them anticipates.

Simply one of the best British thrillers from the 1940s, Obsession has sometimes been mistaken for a film from Alfred Hitchcock’s middle years. Certainly, this movie’s director, Edward Dmytryk, was no less talented, if only almost as famous. Alec Coppel, who wrote the novel on which he based his own screenplay (and who, interestingly, was also Obsession’s dialogue director), was just as skilled in his own field, writing numerous critically-acclaimed and popular movies. The actors, especially the male leads, match the material.

As with many good scripts, Obsession’s has several layers, and in many directions. Initially, the viewer is uncertain as to what Newton intends to do. When that is learned, there is mystery as to how he plans to accomplish it. Then, not finished with the viewer yet, the script makes him wonder whether the criminal will get away with it. One of the fascinating aspects of the writing, very ably manifested by the performers, is the shift in sympathy it provides. At first, we can understand and, even if reluctantly, approve of Newton’s revenge. After all, injured beyond endurance by an uncaring wife, he can take only so much, and the viewer appreciates it. Then, his cold, remorseless drive suggests that he is undeserving of our feelings, while the fortitude of his victim, chosen for no better reason than that he is ‘the last straw’, raises him in our estimation. Even the wife, initially the perpetrator of the moral crime of adultery, improves her standing, though her superficiality and egocentrism remain.

The acting, as stated, is excellent. In particular, the ‘cold war’ or ‘war of nerves’ between Newton and Brown is depicted with a variety of emotions, all legitimately arising from the situation. Brown, whose movie roles were usually small and who turned to television in the ‘50s, is probably best known now for playing Luke Skywalker’s uncle in Star Wars (1977). Based on Obsession, however, he could have tackled any number of roles, though he probably would have been best suited for a very strong supporting part. He very capably fulfills his role here, portraying a man with a modest exterior but an inner toughness. His humour and despair, displayed at different moments, the loneliness of his captivity (so great that he even wants his tormentor to stay and talk to him, just for company) are all believable, as is the intelligence that he must pit against his captor’s.

Mention should be made of the police officer (Naunton Wayne), a deceptively obtuse detective, the sort of part that British movies seem to have cultivated, if not invented, and which became almost a stereotype in thrillers and ‘whodunnits’, reaching its most famous incarnation in television’s Columbo. Even a stereotype can be entertaining and interesting, perhaps because the role is often filled by an entertaining and interesting actor, and rarely fails to add something to a movie. Wayne is perfect here, his dry attitude and remarks displaying from the start that he knows something is amiss, and that he wants Newton to realise it. Such comments as ‘the only real professionals in murder are those who investigate it. You probably haven’t thought of that,’ uttered conversationally, is a warning both to the criminal and the viewer, and is priceless. (Also, watch for Stanley Baker in an uncredited and early part as a uniformed police constable, near the end of the film.)

From tense start to edge-of-the-seat finale, Obsession is a first rate psychological thriller, crime caper and character study, and deserves to be much better known than it is.