The Red House

Allene Roberts and Edward G, Robinson

Delmer Daves' The Red House, from 1947, has been described by a number of writers as a noir, but I would group it within a strain of rural American Gothic which had its roots in Griffith and has produced such disparate picture as Frank Borzage's Moonrise, Charles Laughton's Night of the Hunter, and Ti West's Pearl. The Red House isn't quite as good as those pictures, but, despite a hackneyed plot, still packs a visual and thematic wallop. Pete Morgan (Edward G. Robinson) and his sister Ellen (Judith Anderson) run a rural farm and take care of their adopted daughter, the teenaged Meg (Allene Roberts). Pete has a wooden leg and is getting on in age, so he hires a local lad, Nath (Lon McCallister) to help out with the chores. Ellen is smitten with Nath, but he is firmly within the clutches of the local vamp, Tibby, played by the ravishing Julie London. Tibby, in turn, is toying with the advances of local ne'er-do-well, Teller (Rory Calhoun). All of this points to trouble, especially when Pete repeatedly admonishes all to steer clear of a mysterious woods which contains the titular abode. The new generation can't leave it be and, as in the past, blood will be spilled.

As with any other Hollywood hallucination, but especially within the oeuvre of Delmer Daves where tall tales are recounted with gusto. suspension of disbelief is required. However, if one is willing accept that Mr. Robinson and Ms. Anderson could be brother and sister, than one can swallow the other improbabilities Daves dredged from George Agnew Chamberlain's source novel. What Daves was able to conjure from this pulpy material is somewhat disturbing aura of sexual repression and transference, augmented by the keening loneliness of rural America. The love triangle of the film's present, we too soon realize, is an echo of the past. Nearly all the characters want to leave their circumstances, even if it means escaping into the past. Daves and cinematographer Bert Glennon (Stagecoach, Daves' Destination Tokyo) offer devastating close-ups of his junior players, all yearning to leave the farm or at least get laid. Glennon is able to make the forest sequences mildly creepy whether they are shot in Sonoran exteriors or soundstages.

Creeping around the forest, as the film's male monster of the Id, is Rory Calhoun. Calhoun's large frame is well utilized by Daves and it is heartening to see him when he showed youthful promise. Daves also draws strong performances from Ms. London and Ms. Allene. Allene's winsome willfulness reminded me of Teresa Wright. Robinson and Anderson are such consummate pros that it is easy to overlook how commanding their technical skills are. The Red House was the first film produced by Robinson's production company, Thalia Productions and it displays a desire to make a B film with a personal touch; a little off the grid from Hollywood. Daves sometimes succumbs to the cornpone that would bedevil even his finest films, the prayer scene is especially painful, but also frames perfectly a watery demise for Robinson that rivals his greatest death scenes. The Red House also features the final film appearance of Ona Munson.