Independent Exhibitors Film Bulletin (1963)

?///» Off b/Jt/HCtiCH "Lilies of the Field" Warm with Human Qualities Su4tHe44 "Rati*? Q © © A "sleeper" . Deeply moving, engrossing story of Negro's collaboration with group of refugee nuns to build a chapel in wasteland. Poitier gives superb portrayal. Special selling required, which UA is giving it. A glowing joie de litre bursts from "Lilies Of The Field"' and engulfs its audience in a rare and wondrous warmth. Not since "Marty" has there been a movie so full of human values and so blessedly bereft of maudlin goo and preachiness. Already a triple-award winner (including best actor honors for Sidney Poitier) at the Berlin Film Festival, this Rainbow Production, for United Artists releases, is undoubtedly destined for additional laurels, and will be a strong contender when the 1963 Oscars are handed out. Producer-director Ralph Nelson has fashioned a sparkling, perfectly-wrought gem out of material that most producers would consider boxofnce poison. Poitier is the only "name"' performer, and the deceptively simple, almost anectodal, story concerns a Negro ex-GI and five refugee nuns, who, unable to speak English, gabble incoherently in German. To cap it all, this low-budget family film was made at what may well be the most unscenic locale in America — a barren stretch of wasteland in Arizona. United Artists, fully recognizing the problems involved in selling a film of this nature, is giving it special handling and art house showcasing before general release. Critical approval and, more important, enthusiastic word-of-mouth will help build public interest. In the hinterlands, endorsements by religious groups will be a plus factor, and UA will develop special programs for these areas. All in all, "Lilies" shapes up as the "sleeper" of the year! Everything about the film seems inspired, but most of all, Poitier's casting in the sort of role that, under other production reins, might well have gone to a Marlon Brando or, even an Elvis Presley. He is a drifter, a carefree responsibility-evading lad, who accepts the universe and wants only to "be free." Happiness, to him, is his station wagon, guitar, transistor radio, and the open sky. When he comes upon five strangely dressed women in a barren stretch of the Southwest, a drama of brotherhood, more vital than the color of skin, evolves. He wants only a canteen of water, but he is bullied and goaded by the gruff leader of the group into repairing a leaky roof. Afterwards, he presents her a bill which is ignored, but he is asked to share with them a humble meal. At their table, they appear in their order's vestments, and he learns that they are refugee nuns from East Germany, to whose order this plot of land had been bequeathed. He tells them his name is Homer Smith — but to the Sisters he is "Schmidt", a man sent by God to build them a chapel. On this flimsy framework, rests the film, the balance of which concerns the interplay of personalities between the strong-willed Mother Superior, played by Lilia Skala, and the easy-going Poitier. Miss Skala's wonderfully expressive face seems to mirror the troubles of our times. She is overbearing, intolerant, and insensitive, and in her brusqueness there is cruelty — but shining above it all is the faith born of these faults. To make the audience unterstand this — and not Sidney Poitier Follows the Mother Superior, Lilia Skaht take offense — is a tribute both to Miss Skala, to director Nelson, and to James Poe, who sensitively adapted the screenplay from a short novel by William E. Barrett. As her nemesis, Poitier is perfect. Kind, humble, obedient — he seems the very prototype of the Boy Scout code, but, at times, this over eagerness to please and to serve, without reward, becomes suspect. Through subtle implication, Poitier gradually develops into a stereotype of the put-upon, but ever-loyal, slave until, in a brilliantly played scene, we realize that his behavior is guided by vanity and an image of himself as a worker of miracles. Throughout this conflict of personalities, other figures emerge with the same understanding of the human spirit. The four Sisters, Lisa Mann, Isa Crino, Francesca Jarvis, and Pamela Branch, all delightful, balance the dominance of the Mother Superior. Dan Frazer is the nomadic priest who loses faith in God because he dreamed of a cathedral and found, in its place, a battered trailer. Finally, there is Stanley Adams, the bullying apostate, who helps to build the chapel as a form of "insurance" — just in case there is a hereafter. Rounding out the credits, Jerry Goldsmith's ethnic-flavored background music will take its place among the most noteworthy film scores, and Ernest Haller's photography provides fluid visions that throb with vitality. After the chapel is built, we see that Poitier and the Mother Superior are alike in one respect — their dogged devotion to what they believe in. They also have learned from one another. She has made him see his vanity for what it is and, because of this, he has found a strength and character that might otherwise have remained buried. Through him, she has come to recognize her dictatorial ways as Hitler-like posturings, and she has regained a compassion and sensitivity that seemed fore\er lost. In the final moments, only she realizes what is happening as Poitier departs from their lives as unceremoniously as he entered. United Artists. 94 minutes. Sidney Poitier Lilia Skala. Produced and directed by Ralph Nelson. Film BULLETIN September 2, 1963 Page 25