three grisaille classics

A Cottage on Dartmoor: (1929. dir: Anthony Asquith) An astonishingly adept silent film from Britain. The story is nothing exceptional: boy falls in love with coworker, she falls for another, he is obsessed and tries to kill his rival, vows vengeance as he's taken into custody, escapes and shows up at their doorstep. It's the means of the telling which will take your breath away: Anthony Asquith moves effortlessly through time, using very few title cards, and we go right along with him. The only weakness is at the cinema: the segment during the Harold Lloyd short is too long and too randomly edited to build the intended suspense. Gorgeous framing and photography, almost German in its dark moodiness. The lead (Uno Henning) is handsome like Fassbender or Olivier, a little femme, maybe, but charismatic and intense and with a wonderful expressiveness.

Night Train: (1959. dir: Jerzy Kawalerowicz) A muddy print, and hard to find the subtitles, but this is a stunning film from Poland during a time when Polish cinema was coming into its own. The camerawork is extraordinary, like black-and-white Cassavetes, and in the same year that his first, Shadows, was ushered into the world. Since the bulk of the action takes place in the claustrophobia of sleeping cars and lurching train corridors, the cinematography is doubly impressive. Something unexpected, like a shot of the sweat stains beneath the doctor's arms, secretly communicates to us, underneath an ominous and continual overlay of menace. And the sound! The seething quiet of the sanguinary mob towards the end is uncanny, unforgettable, and the giddy camaraderie in the aftermath of the chase feels chillingly authentic.

It all works together: the slavic faces. The cool, hipster jazz. The underlying suggestion of political subversion. Leon Niemczyk is inscrutable, or just scrutable enough, in the stoical lead character, to keep us guessing and caring at the same time.

Green for Danger: (1946. dir: Sidney Gilliat) Marvellous wartime whodunnit from the fellows who wrote the Lady Vanishes. Trevor Howard and Allistair Sim lead a cracking good cast in a low-key murder mystery set in hospital whilst doodlebugs fall on the English countryside. Sim enjoys himself very much as the whimsical, chuckling detective with the mourdant sense of humour. Blitz-time England feels true to life, and the clues unfold at just the right pace. Although the suspects number only six, their motives are strong and believable enough to keep you guessing until the end. Filmed in lovely, warm black and white.