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Night of the Hunter (1955). Eschewing traditional cinematic storytelling, this wonderful classic is the epitome of an odyssey as told through the eyes of children. A tale of a bogeyman in sheep's clothing, this flick meanders in its own way, sometimes dreamily, towards its own style of denouement. Robert Mitchum is awesome as the rotten preacher man, unctuously worming his way into the hearts of his victims, innocent lambs that they are. The children's parts were no less awesome, their plight a heart-wrenching journey into the unknown world of a depressed era. The direction was superb; it is sad that this actor did not make good the transition of actor to director. The camera work was awesome, with shot composure that was nothing less than magical. The ending congealed the fact that this was not a formulaic piece, instead ending on a note of its design. Merci beaucoup.
Genruk
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Fate is my mistress, mother of the cruel abomination that is hope.
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