What's the Matter with Helen?

Curtis Harrington's What's the Matter with Helen?, from 1971, has a nifty first act that establishes a creepy 1930's vibe, but it runs out of momentum halfway and never climaxes, it just sort of peters out. Writer Henry Farrell had helped pen Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? (he wrote its source novel) and Hush...Hush, Sweet Charlotte, so it is no surprise that he had run out of interesting variations on the menopausal madness trope. Harrington and associates spruce up the studio sets with masks, dolls, statuary, mirrors, deco lighting, feathers and fluff, but can't get much out of his action or suspense scenes. 

Debbie Reynolds is well cast as a dance instructor who tutors aspiring Shirley Temples and pacifies there gargoyle like mothers. Reynolds gets to show off her dance moves and trademark pert moxie. Harrington is most at home in light surrealism. The pageant numbers with moppets singing the likes of "Animal Crackers in My Soup" and an Aimee Semple McPherson revival meeting reenacted with a crackling performance by Agnes Morehead are the sections of the film that most fit his vision. 

Shelley Winters is miscast as a meek and crazed bible thumper. Ms. Winters could do crazed, but not meek. The two volumes of her memoirs were big beach reading in their time and deservedly so. She nicely underplays and her performance gains power, but she seems incongruous throughout. She is bound to Reynolds because they birthed a pair of Leopold and Loeb types, but that back story is perfunctory. Also, what mystery there is is unresolved as Ms. Winters runs amok at the conclusion and murders bunnies. The film is a half hour too long and Dennis Weaver is a void as Ms. Reynolds' love interest. Micheal Mac Liammoir, Timothy Carey, and Molly Dodd (Mrs. Henry Farrell) have nice character bits, but though I thoroughly enjoyed What's the Matter with Helen?, I can't quite recommend it.