Atticus Finch (Gregory Peck) from the courtroom balcony, To Kill A Mockingbird, shot by Russell Harlan, 1962
Sylvia Barrett (Sandy Dennis) and an empty classroom, Up the Down Staircase, shot by Joseph F. Coffey, 1967
A warning shadow, The Stalking Moon, shot by Charles Lang, 1968
Aunt Ida (Uta Hagen) and gasoline can, The Other, shot by Robert Surtees, 1972
If the career of Robert Mulligan, who died yesterday at age 83, could be summed up in a motto,that motto might be “Integrity Through Mise-en-scene.” The director worked in just about every genre except the epic—what links all his films together is a kind of intimacy, achieved largely via a camera that seeks to establish a strong link between the viewer and a particular character. As Dave Kehr notes, “Mulligan had a deep understanding of the rarely used subjective viewpoint in cinema.” No one who loves Mockingbird need be told why that view from the courtroom balcony plays so strongly. And while the shot of Sandy Dennis made puny by the desks and the looming darkness in Staircase is not from her character’s point of view, it conveys her character’s point of view perfectly. The shot from The Stalking Moon is from the perspective you are meant to root for; the shot from The Other from a somewhat more problematic perspective.
Mulligan was a frequently wonderful director whose humanist instincts were uniformly strong, but whose work never devolved into the sentimental. Virtually no one today has been doing what he did for quite some time, so in a way it’s inaccurate to say that he will be missed; the director, who made his final film, The Man In The Moon, in 1991, has been missed.
UPDATE: Joseph Failla has some thoughts, and a particular emphasis on The Other:
I don’t know why Robert Mulligan’s name is not better known since his films are so well liked by many moviegoers. One look at a listing of his work and you’ll see a number of popular favorites (Love With The Proper Stranger, Up The Down Staircase, Summer of ’42), some well-thought-of sleepers (Baby, The Rain Must Fall, Inside Daisy Clover) and at least one classic (To Kill A Mockingbird). But I guess it’s hard to be recognized for a certain style when your particular gift is one of welcomed restraint and understatement.
There’s no better example of downplaying what could have been a very gratuitous experience than Mulligan’s 1972 shocker, The Other. Seemingly shot with the same vision of small town, ’30s rural life he created for Mockingbird, it’s a supremely American Gothic horror tale that will remind you of Val Lewton crossed with Earl Hamner Jr., rather than the then current visceral trends of the genre. The film’s success at being so downright scary has everything to do with avoiding the obvious; even its most gruesome moments come off as more suggestive than unflinching. But the general darkness that surrounds the characters can be found in many of Mulligan’s films starting with Anthony Perkins troubled turn in Fear Strikes Out, the sadness that affects Natalie Wood in Proper Stranger or Daisy Clover, and the foreboding danger of The Stalking Moon.
As soon as the film begins, you can sense the menace lurking just behind the nostalgic, rustic landscape from the unusual relationship depicted between the young twin brothers. When you speak of Mulligan’s “viewpoint” it’s never been more apparent than here, since the brothers are always distanced from one another within each shot. A technique that’s maintained throughout the course of the film and is in fact the key to it’s storytelling. Even if one can deduce what’s coming, the film gains from further viewings, not losing any of it’s all important, initial impact. The dark cinematography by Robert Surtees is quite beautiful and when married to another fine Jerry Goldsmith score, you have one of the most sensorial of horror films that has managed to go by, sadly underappreciated.
Though in a way, the film’s long unavailabilty (it’s only come to DVD in the last couple of years), may have worked to it’s benefit in that there could be a whole new audience waiting to rediscover it with no prior misconceptions. I was lucky enough to have seen this on a great double feature with The Legend of Hell House, another fine horror film which dodged sensationalism in favor of atmospheric tension and provided me with one of the most unsettling afternoons at the movies I can remember.
I think I was at that double feature myself—among other things, the beginning of a long imaginary adolescent love affair with Hell House’s Pamela Franklin. But that’s another story…
This has been very underreported. Your site is the first one I’ve run across that mentions it.
“To Kill A Mockingbird” is the rare wonderful film based on a wonderful novel.
I remember going to see “The Other” at my favorite Gastonia, NC theater. Mulligan’s movies … they were horror movies whether that was the theme or not, always quite dark. Always that gothic sensibility. I don’t think any other director could have handled the character of Boo Radley (sp?) as well as he did, and how much care must have gone into finding a young Robert Duvall to play him?
“To Kill a Mockingbird” unquestionably deserves its place in the canon. It’s a great, great film. The scene where Atticus is sitting on his porch, listening to Jem and Scout talk about their mother gets me every time.
I’ve never seen “The Other”. I really should get on that.
Bill: be warned there’s one scene in “The Other” that’s about as ghastly as anything I’ve ever seen in a horror movie
Charles
Charles, I remember an article about Mulligan in The Village Voice that appeared when “Bloodbrothers” came out, discussing his work with Surtees, and Mulligan’s expressing his pleasure at Surtees’ ability to create “blacks so deep you can eat them.” Yes, a lot of the dark is in almost all his pictures…and yes, “The Other” certainly has that thing of which you speak!
Dear Glenn Kenny,
Thank you for this beautiful tribute to Robert Mulligan!
You can see some key features of Mulligan’s visual style in the first two screen captures.
There is wood everywhere: the walls, the furniture. Mulligan’s films explore old buildings, in which wood decoration was the main style. It is like a trip into an American past.
And the compositions are built up out of repeating units: “modules”.
In Dennis’ classroom, identical desks repeat, over and over. And the blackboard is broken down into four identical units.
In the courtroom, we see the repeating jury chairs, the multiple benches for the public, the repeating fences and posts.
This sort of multiple module is also everywhere in Mulligan. It gives his images a complex visual rhythm, like a beat in music.
I was going to try to write something about Mulligan, but this post renders it superfluous. Great tribute, Glenn. Well done.
“…that will remind you of Val Lewton crossed with Earl Hamner Jr.”
That’s as perfect a description of “The Other” as I’ve ever read. I myself have taken to calling it “Psycho of ‘42”. It’s like a weird cross between Norman Bates (those familiar with the film will understand the parallels) and the soft-focus nostalgia in Mulligan’s prior film, “Summer of ‘42”.
I know this is over a year later, but I want to thank Glenn for this tribute. Mulligan truly was on of our finest and most overlooked filmmakers.
To me, To Kill A Mockingbird and The Other are his masterpieces. I have particular fondness for The Other, which I’m considering choosing as my writing topic if it’s ever my turn to write something for Toerific.