Hell Is Sold Out (1951)

Beautiful, moving film.

The performances transcend the film's tropes, grounding it in characters that feel more complete than this subgenre often produces.

A great movie, one of the best of this year. There was a bit of confusion at one point in the plot, but nothing serious.

It's the kind of movie you'll want to see a second time with someone who hasn't seen it yet, to remember what it was like to watch it for the first time.

Without reading the source novel it's difficult to know whether it did have a definite genre in mind, farce, drama, both or neither because what appears on screen are several loose plots any one of which in hands other than inept would make for a satisfying/entertaining diversion; instead each strand is pursued until it runs out of gas whereupon another strand is added. Herbert Lom, who had proved himself a reliable supporting actor was clearly auditioning for leading man status but just as clearly lacked the charisma and despite winding up with Mai Zetterling there is zero chemistry between them. Richard Attenborough is there simply to make up the numbers and act as the catalyst for the 'happy' ending. Not the finest hour of anyone involved.

In 1945, successful writer Dominic Danges (Herbert Lom) returns home after the war, just to find a book called 'Hell is Sold Out' on the shelves - but he did not write this novel. In his house, he meets Valerie Martyn (Mai Zetterling) who has moved in. Since he was believed dead, she wrote the novel 'for him' and posed as his wife. He calls her a cheat and wants her to leave immediately, but unfortunately, 'Hell is Sold Out' becomes Danges' most successful novel, so the publisher wants the unmarried couple to stay together and continue the masquerade. When Valerie falls in love with Dominic's best friend Pierre (Richard Attenborough), this becomes complicated...There are two possibilities to turn such a story into a movie. Either you make it a comedy, putting the characters into hilarious situations. Or you create a drama, focusing on jealousy and intrigue. This movie, however, could apparently not decide which way to go for. Thus it became too slow for a comedy, but did not set up convincing dramatic conflicts either.

One of those films that dealt - perhaps neither deliberately nor directly - with sorting out the muddle of war, and so a very distant relation of The Return of Martin Guerre as much as The Captive Heart. It was Lom's attempt at playing a romantic hero, and it didn't come off; he's too saturnine and grumpy. But artistically this has an upside, as it leaves us unsure whether the heroine will go for him or the more puppy-like, and more British, Attenborough. Alas, it all needs the Lubitsch touch, or at least the Michael Powell one; instead, it's wobbly in tone, shuffling between romance, comedy, farce and the odd echo of the war (Attenborough has blackouts caused by shrapnel in his head), along with some lame satire of Americans. It isn't bad - and it looks great, with high-contrast mono photography - but it isn't very good either.

Although Dickie Attenborough was developing as an actor at this stage in his career, he was relying on his friend, John Mills, to furnish him with roles. He plays a mediocre character in this film which makes me think that he is going sideways rather than progressing as an actor.