Friday Night Flicks: Black Narcissus
I saw someone wearing a Black Narcissus shirt at a 7-11 once.
The image at its center was one of a nun, in full corpse paint, with lightning shooting from her eyes, looking like something out of that Wes Craven-directed sequel to Sister Act that never got made (a shame). I’m a huge nerd when it comes to that kind of thing: metal t-shirts with illegible typography, whose names alone are worthy of at least some reverence, whether or not the music is actually any good.
So imagine my surprise when, upon my asking, the woman wearing the shirt informed me that Black Narcissus was not a death metal band, but a British melodrama from 1947, her favorite film. There aren’t any blood rituals or exorcisms, she told me, and the nuns don’t wear corpse paint; there are, however, plenty of gardening scenes, a particularly jovial Christmas caroling sequence, and some pretty blatant anti-colonial subtexts.
Yes, Black Narcissus just might be the most aesthetically-misleading movie title of all time. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t great! The film tells the story of a group of Anglican sisters who, after being relocated to a remote convent in the Himalayas, find themselves struggling to maintain their religious vows. Tension begins to build between the sisters and the locals of a nearby village, and the arrival of a suave British consulate worker only stirs the pot further.
Even if you’re not big into films about nuns (at least ones that don’t end in bloodshed or demonic possession), I can guarantee this one’s still worth a watch, even if only for its cinematography and impressive use of matte painting (the best I’ve ever seen). And considering how polite and tame the first and second acts are, there’s still a particularly intense third act, and the ending is seriously solemn; Cue “St. Vitus Dance” by Black Sabbath. —Jackson Todd
