Review of House by the River (1950) by James H — 27 Apr 2009

In spite of being a part of Fritz Lang's fascinating shift from Nietzschean supermen to everyman protagonists suddenly pitted in a situation of life and death, House By the River is a mere exercise for him. He makes little use of the limited abilities of the cast, the setting, the story and even lets the film fly with a particularly shabby ending. The film remains enjoyable for the most part as a thriller about an unhinged central character, a guilt- consumed accomplice, a terrible crime, and the symbolic shift of fate caused by the nearby river. The story sets in motion right away, taking advantage of the development of the characters before we know much about them, Lang viewing each complicit, suspicious and unwary character with an omniscient eye. His impartiality is what I most admire about this almost-but-not-quite effort, because the decisions the characters make, the mistakes, the virtues, everything is vulnerable to the forces of nature which surround them.

Each nuance, from the opening shots of the neighboring river and the wind in the trees, has a conscientious reverberation. Our anti-hero declares to change, but the characters of environment, the wind and the water, are the decisive intermediaries of whether he will succeed or not in breaking or committing to that promise. This is a great device, but the film is particularly weak in so many departments, mainly in comparison to Lang's previous and subsequent films noir which hit the nail on the head, like M, Scarlet Street, Hangmen Also Die, The Big Heat and Human Desire, all top-notch achievements that show his effortless capability for much stronger acting and symbolic resolutions. With House By the River, he seems to want to return to his more Gothic roots, perhaps even to the extent of his Expressionist silent films, and the cinematography is generally fine save for the finale, when expression is needed most. Louis Hayward, who plays the dubious protagonist, stands out, but only in comparison to his surrounding ensemble.