I WALKED WITH A ZOMBIE

“There's no beauty here, only death and decay. That luminous water—it takes its gleam from millions of tiny dead bodies, the glitter of putrescence. Everything good dies here, even the stars.”

Well jeez-oh-flip—based on that description I think I will make a mental note to never vacation in the Caribbean. Goodbye Carnival Cruise Line, hello Schlitterbahn.

Yes, things certainly can be foreboding in Haiti, and this 1943 cinematic masterpiece produced by legendary Val Lewton delivers on every level. Perhaps most obvious is the stylish, atmospheric black and white cinematography by Director of Photography J. Roy Hunt whose long and illustrious career also includes such outstanding films as CROSSFIRE (1947) and MIGHTY JOE YOUNG (1949). Every frame is literally a rainbow of blacks, whites and grays; the nightmarish vision of a tropical paradise whose underbelly has never been so disturbingly exposed. Perhaps less obvious, but in every way just as important, is the effective use of sound. Shrill cries emanating from the dark, the eerie cadence of rhythmic native drums, the mournful, haunting melodies of peasant songs penetrating the windswept nights all combine to enhance the suffocating tension skillfully crafted by director Jacques Tourner.

The screenplay is an intriguing variation of the Jane Eyre story. Frances Dee stars as Betsy Connell, a nurse from Canada who accepts employment on a Haitian sugar plantation. Her job is to make Jessica, the wife of the plantation owner, as comfortable as she can. Whether it was from a severe fever or the effects of a pagan curse, Jessica is essentially a living, breathing zombie—unthinking, unfeeling and unresponsive to all but the most basic of commands. Modern medicine is totally ineffective. Perhaps the voodoo so widely practiced by the descendents of slaves can provide the cure. Betsy is willing to take that chance, and her foray deep into the sugar cane fields is a harrowing journey of last resort.

Special mention must go to Darby Jones, the towering walking-stick of a man whose unforgettable appearance is unquestionably the single most effective portrayal of a zombie to ever grace the silver screen. This guy's even more frightening to look at than the unfortunate face appearing on my prized Frank Zupo baseball card.

What cannot be emphasized enough is that all of the horror is based on the suggested and the psychological—what frightens us is both internal and implied—which are far more effective cinematic techniques than the show-it-all, leave-nothing-to-the-imagination blood baths which most recent horror films exhibit. The end result is that I WALKED WITH A ZOMBIE is frightening, hypnotizing, poetic, evocative, sensitive, foreboding and powerful all at once. Quite simply, this is a film well worth seeking for all of the right reasons.

An aside: Be sure to check the opening credits that include the following notification: “The characters and events depicted in this photoplay are fictional. Any similarity to actual persons, living, dead OR POSSESSED, is purely coincidental.” Ain't that a hoot.