Victim

Basil Dearden's Victim (1961) is a remarkable film. Extremely controversial in its time, it's still one of the best movies addressing gay rights.

Meville Farr (Dirk Bogarde) is a successful barrister with a loving wife (Sylvia Sims) and an eye towards the bench. But Farr's ambitions come crashing down when "Boy" Barrett (Peter McEnery) commits suicide after being arrested for theft. Barrett was a homosexual, and a blackmailer photographed him in a compromising position with Farr. Galvanized by Barrett's death, Barr confronts his own sexuality and determines to track down Barrett's tormentors, at great risk to his reputation.

Homosexuality was illegal in the UK until 1967, and at least taboo everywhere else. The US had experienced a "lavender scare" in the '50s, expelling homosexuals from government positions in a form of "sexual McCarthyism." The UK's harsh anti-sodomy laws gained much attention (and outcry) with John Gielgud's 1953 arrest for public lewdness. Even beyond criminalization lay widespread ostracization that forced gays to repress or hide their true feelings. Gay rights were nearly-unthinkable at the time.

The Hayes Code prevented Hollywood movies from confronting the issue, leading to a lot of "coded" characters in noirs, horror films and epics. Famously, Crossfire changed its gay murder victim to a Jew, while Stanley Kubrick was forced to cut a scene in Spartacus that implied Crassus's bisexuality. The rare films that confronted the topic (Tea and Sympathy, The Children's Hour) had to tiptoe awkwardly around it. Even today, mainstream Hollywood remains touchy on gay subjects: witness the sneering backlash accorded Alexander and Brokeback Mountain. Even Milk's passionate pleading is couched within a cliched biopic.

In this climate, Victim was an extremely brave film. Basil Dearden had already provided tough looks at controversial subjects in Sapphire (1959) and The League of Gentlemen (1960). Victim was the first English film to use "homosexual," the least of its sins from a censorship point of view: it was banned in America and faced heavy censorship at home.

Victim admirably avoids stereotype, portraying London gays as fairly ordinary. They hold varying respectable jobs (actor, hairdresser, book store owner) and fear exposure for the sake of their reputation. Some are conned into ratting on their friends, and a few unscrupulous types play their own blackmail games. This portrayal makes the injustice far easier to contemplate; good people are victimized for their sexuality, an unjust law making them easy targets for unscrupulous criminals.

Some modern viewers critique Victim for its lack of "advocacy" which misses the point entirely. The tact and lack of impassioned speechmaking makes the drama that much more effective. One oblique comparison is Judgment at Nuremberg, where every character serves as a mouthpiece for a point of view. Victim's characters are people, and their speeches come from the heart: Farr's anguished recounting of a past affair ("I *WANTED* him!"), a hairdresser (Charles Lloyd Pack) traumatized as a thug wrecks his shop, the bookseller's (Norman Bird) heartache over a lost love.


Victim plays it safe in other ways. The blackmailers provide easy villains to root against (if harder to defeat). The movie is ambiguous as to whether Farr consummated his relationship with Barrett, and hints at a reconciliation with his wife. Even so, the ending is decidedly qualified. Farr's life and career are likely ruined even if he wins. And if the criminals are a small problem, we do get glances of casual bigotry, from a crabby bartender to a prejudiced policeman (John Cairney), that suggest the real work lies ahead.

Dearden's direction is appropriately oppressive, all brooding shadows and deep focus courtesy of Otto Heller. Dearden and writers Janet Green and John McCormack give things a thriller structure to keep the plot moving, with clever twists and character revelations to keep the audience guessing. Philip Green provides a melodramatic score.

Dirk Bogarde sheds his matinee idol image with a remarkable performance. One can only speculate how much of Bogarde's own life found its way into Farr, but regardless it's a first-rate job. Farr's refusal to help Barrett leads to his death, his crusade is driven as much by guilt as morality. Bogarde handles his dramatic moments with passion, the right mixture of brooding angst, tortured pleading and self-assurance.

Sylvia Sims (Operation Crossbow) handles a tough role with admirable delicacy, wanting to stand by her man but appalled at his deceit. Peter McEnery (Tunes of Glory) makes a striking impression in his brief screentime. London's gay culture is assayed by a memorable array of actors: Dennis Price (Kind Hearts and Coronets), Nigel Stock (The Night of the Generals), Norman Bird (Oh! What a Lovely War), Hilton Edwards. John Barrie (Patton) gets a nice role as a sympathetic policeman. The head blackmailer is played by Derren Nesbett, the preening Gestapo creep from Where Eagles Dare.

Victim is an extraordinary film. Certain directors would have done well to copy Basil Dearden's ability to convey a message without obnoxious posturing.