The Heart is a Lonely Hunter

I have often found Carson McCuller's collection of cripples, misfits, negroes and stranded adolescents a little too concentrated. But her insight and unique style prevents soap—opera. Unfortunately the co-producers of The Heart is a Lonely Hunter do not share this ability.

They needlessly modernize the setting of the original and with indifferent camera work and mediocre scene selection establish a tone that confuses sentimentality with feeling. So much is the strength of the novel weakened, that at times it is like sitting through a rescreening of a melodramatic 1950's heavy.

John Singer (Alan Arkin) is a silver engraver who carries a card which reads, "I am a deaf mute but I read the lips and I understand what is said to me. Please do not shout" A good listener whose own needs are overlooked. He looks after childlike Antonapoulis, his closest friend (also a deaf mute) who is to die later in a mental hospital He restores a drunkard's self confidence, befriends 'Mike', his landlady's lonely teenage daughter, reconciles a negro doctor and his daughter, and shoots himself.

If the suicide is unconvincing the fault lies with the production, not with Alan Arkin. He plays Singer with masterly economy and control. No gesture is wasted no movement superflous. Every facial flicker vividly establishes the isolation of an intelligent sensitive man trapped in absolute silence.

Music is completely unknown to him and yet he buys a record player and records so that Mike will come into his room and talk to him. Walking through the streets his fingers move rapidly in sign language; he is talking to himself. He moves about as a pathetic survivor of the silent movies.

Sondra Lockes portrayal of Mike is irregular although has surprisingly high moments.

But it is Alan Arkin who rescues what he can of the film. It is thanks to his superb performance that much of the tragic intensity of the novel is maintained.

Rob Cameron