Wait Until Dark

Alan Arkin has said of Wait Until Dark (1967) that the film's genius arises from two main sources: Audrey Hepburn's virtuoso performance, and leaving things to the audience's imagination. I would have to agree. The true terror of the film lies in experiencing it from the perspective of our heroine, in darkness, disoriented, and with a fertile imagination to supply us with all the nasty unpleasant things that may be going on around us.

When a mix-up at the airport sends a heroin-laden toy doll off with the wrong man, the intended recipient, Mr. Roat (Arkin) assembles a crack team to determine the doll's whereabouts. They track down the accidental recipient, a NYC photographer named Sam Hendrix. Sensing their chance, Roat's men draw Hendrix out of his apartment on a spurious errand. Instead, they choose to deal with Hendrix's wife Susie (Hepburn), recently blinded in an accident and falteringly learning to deal with her new situation. Using an elaborate ruse and good-cop bad-cop tactics, the criminals hope to glean from Susie the location of the doll without alerting her to its significance.

It may unfairly pigeonhole me as some sort of crotchety film curmudgeon, but Arkin's words about this film ring true. So many of today's filmmakers take the audience completely out of the equation by allowing our imaginations no room to run. Everything is so explicit, so out there in all its gory glory, that the audience can shut off their minds and simply watch, absorb the horror like an unfeeling sponge. Not that these films are completely without merit; often their technical achievements are nothing short of wizardry. And not that these films aren't fun. But usually, they're not very good. And almost inevitably, they aren't frightening.

Wait Until Dark, in keeping the gore and the lights low, suffers neither of these setbacks. Owing to its stageplay source material, the film keeps its action focused to a single small Manhattan apartment (much like 1948's Rope, a classic Alfred Hitchcock thriller), and its cast list extremely small. Not only does this impart a suffocating sense of claustrophobia, but it also puts the onus of performance on the actors and the tightly-written script. When there are no massive plot devices and pyrotechnics to distract, the entire film plays out in the minute gestures and dialogue of our actors, in the spellbinding way that our three thugs slowly circle Mrs. Hendrix like sharks, laying the trap and tightening the noose.

In my own personal book of film appreciation, I hold all thrillers up to be judged in the light of Hitchcock's masterpieces: Spellbound (1945), Strangers on a Train (1951), Rear Window (1954), and Vertigo (1958), among a myriad of others. Much like And Soon the Darkness (1970), another superb non-Hitchcock thriller of the time, Wait Until Dark meets and exceeds the bar. It's a taut and slow-burning thriller with elements of an Ocean's Eleven-style (or better yet, "A-Team"-style) complex heist set-up. Throw in one of the most talented and beloved actresses of all time and a snake-in-the-grass villain like Roat, and you have the recipe for a truly exceptional film.

Not that the film is completely without fault. Susie has the annoying habit of making some incredibly unfortunate decisions, including not locking her door in Manhattan, even after a night filled with repeated intrusions by strangers bearing cryptic messages or suspicious good-will. And Mr. Hendrix's treatment of his wife, while on the surface appearing as a noble attempt to make her self-sufficient, upon deeper reflection, smacks of a brutish sexism and equates the visually impaired to wayward puppies.

However, this film is just too good to let these relatively minor faults hold sway. If you're looking for an exemplary thriller, a successful stage-to-screen adaptation, or just Audrey Hepburn's last great film, give this one a try.

Storyline & plot: 9/10
Cinematography & effects: 8/10
Music & mood: 9/10
Performances: 8/10

The Reverend says: 10/10