robert-temple-1 Review of None But the Lonely Heart

None But the Lonely Heart (1944)

Excellent film set in working class London before the War

[4 September 2011]

Cary Grant reinvented himself as a Hollywood film star with an American accent, but before he did that, his real name was Archie Leach, from Bristol, and as English as they come. In this film, he returns to his roots and very successfully plays an Englishman. The film is a very moving and effective story about a young man reluctantly coming to terms with what it means to be responsible and sensible, and giving up a rather wild and unconstrained existence which was leading nowhere. It is superbly directed by the playwright Clifford Odets, who also wrote the screenplay, which is based upon a novel by the Welshman Richard Llewellyn, who is more famous for his novel HOW GREEN WAS MY VALLEY (filmed in 1941). This was one of only two films directed by Odets, the other being fifteen years later, THE STORY ON PAGE ONE (1959, which is such a bad film I did not bother to review it). However, this earlier directorial achievement by Odets was really one to be proud of, and totally works. The film takes its title from the famous song by Pyotr Tchaikovsky, a tune played by the character Aggie Hunter in the film, who is sensitively played by Jane Wyatt. Wyatt plays the cello herself on screen. The same theme tune is also played on the piano by Cary Grant, also really playing the instrument himself. Another excellent pianist/actor appears in the film, Dan Duryea, but he only has a small part and does not play any music. This film is remarkable for the stunning performance by Helen Duprez as a steamy and passionate gal who falls for Cary Grant. Helen Duprez is so amazing in this film that she equals Gloria Grahame for effortlessly conveying intense sensuality on the screen, just by the way she talks, looks, and moves. It is one of the great tragedies of the cinema that Helen Duprez's career misfired (see the account in her bio on IMDb), for she was truly in a class of her own. Anyone interested in the history of screen passion without bedroom scenes needs to study this performance, and see how it is done. Clifford Odets obviously knew how to get Duprez's magic out of her, by gaining her confidence and giving her the necessary encouragement. Although it was Ethel Barrymore, who played Cary Grant's mother, who got the Oscar for her performance in this film, that Oscar should really have gone to Helen Duprez. That is not to say that Ethel Barrymore's performance is not marvellous, for it is. She shows extreme subtlety in a part which a lesser actress would have played with broad strokes and would have hammed it up. This is a wonderfully successful film which deserves to be more widely known.