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I Confess. Hitchcock's study of a priest who discovers, in the confessional, whodunit.
Montgomery Clift, along with Marlon Brando, represented something entirely new on the screen — the inwardly troubled hero. Before them, no one had thought to place before the public a hero with internal problems. The problems faced by their predecessors had to be external — a moral choice, a problem in the technique of getting what you wanted. With Clift and Brando, the age of psychology came to the world of the movie star. Brando, of course, is a more powerful actor, his violence quotient is much higher. But Clift has his points. He is, very simply, more handsome than Brando. And, in addition, he has a reedlike quality; it seems as if he might easily be broken by the forces aligned
against him. He has yet to break on the screen, but it always seems a live possibility — more so than it ever has in the work of other male stars.
As a troubled, yet beautifully youthful man, Clift has brought out the mother in a generation of American women who have learned to respond to his special blend of delicacy and resilience. Not surprisingly, many a young matron has been heard to mourn for the lost perfection of his beauty, which was marred in an auto accident. Yet all of them admire the dogged courage with which he has come back from the accident and which usually illuminates — through contrast— his screen portrayals of troubled youth.
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