This is the original 1962 "Cape Fear", superbly directed by J. Lee Thompson - not to be confused with the mess of a remake attempted in the early 1990s by Martin Scorsese.



Rooted in the film noir tradition of the 1940s and 1950s, and, like those films, shot in black and white, "Cape Fear" is the story of a southern public prosecutor named Sam Bowden whose family is threatened by a violent sociopath newly released from prison. The sociopath, Max Cady, is bent on revenging himself on Bowden, who got him convicted. Bowden, played by Gregory Peck, soon finds that the law in which he has always placed so much faith cannot protect his family from Cady's carefully escalated persecutions, which can't be proven strongly enough to stand up in court and get Cady sent back to prison. The film revolves around Bowden's increasingly desperate attempts to protect his wife and young daughter from Cady, and the challenges those attempts present to his decency and principles. Inevitably, Bowden's family ends up serving as bait with which to to trap Cady. The conclusion of the film is as disturbing a half hour as any that has ever appeared onscreen.



The terse, no-frills script uncoils like a whip, and is enhanced by a menacing score by Bernard Hermann. There are no wasted moments or red herrings that distract from, rather than propel the story to, its conclusion - something that unfortunately cannot be said of the remake.



The core of the film (although this probably was not the intent of the original script) is Robert Mitchum's bone-chilling performance as Max Cady, possibly the best of his career. Mitchum, who at this time was a leading man in his own right, and certainly not short on erotic appeal, subdued his distinctive magnetism and rechanneled it into a horrifying characterization that no one who sees it is ever likely to forget. The inherent evil that, in the silly remake, Robert DeNiro needed a ridiculous assortment of tattoos, greasy hair, bizarre clothing, and oversized cigars to project, Mitchum projected just by the swing of his shoulders, his lazily inflected voice, and a rakishly tilted Panama hat.



Gregory Peck (who also produced the film) was first offered the role of Cady, and turned it down, feeling (correctly, I think) that the public would never find him believable in such a role. Peck gives a heartfelt performance as the lawyer crazed with fear for his family, but even his stature, expert pacing, and star quality are no match for Mitchum's searingly ugly Cady. Polly Bergen plays Bowden's attractive and supportive wife, and Lori Martin, who looked a bit like a young Elizabeth Taylor at the time, plays the just-blossoming daughter for whom Cady has particular plans as he plots his revenge on Bowden. While he nurtures those plans, Cady finds time to pick up a worldweary girl (played by dancer-actress Barrie Chase) in a local bar and, later, beat her up. Chase makes a brief but affecting appearance as the shopworn girl who flirts with danger by allowing Cady to pick her up, and pays harshly for it. Her terrified refusal to testify against Cady deprives Bowden of an opportunity to put Cady back in prison, and is instrumental in reducing Bowden to extreme measures.



There has occasionally been some doubt cast on what actually happened to Bowden's wife on the boat where he has hidden her for safety, in the area of the Carolina swampwaters called "Cape Fear" (hence the film's title). This reviewer does not think there can be any doubt about what happened to her. However, the moral film code in force at the time forbade certain words to be used onscreen, and "rape" was one of them. In later interviews, Bergen has recounted how, during the filming of this scene, Mitchum was so deeply "in character" that he lost control of himself and broke down part of a door as he pushed her into the back room, and failed to respond to the director's repeated calls of "Cut!". When he finally snapped out of it and pulled away from her, a shaken Bergen broke down and cried, and Mitchum slunk away, overcome with shame. The incident demonstrates how powerfully Mitchum inhabited this role - and why, in the end, his performance owns the film.



If I had to quibble with one aspect of the film, it might be Peck's picture-perfect family (Bergen, despite the southern summer heat, never appears without pearls, gloves, a dress, and high heels), which stands in somewhat overstated contrast to Cady's sleazy sociopath. However, it's a small quibble. This is not a deep or important film, but it is a first-rate one. It doesn't pretend to be anything other than what it is, and not only does it deliver 100% on that, it records one of filmdom's now legendary portrayals of evil. Highly recommended for all devotees of the suspense/film noir genre.