Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger direct Deborah Kerr, Kathleen Byron and Jean Simmons in this tale of nuns on a mission in the Himalayas driven to distraction by repression, jealousy and isolation. 

Cor! It all looks right beautiful. Fake vistas surround the fake location but all are mere mattes painted by some impressionistic old master. Essentially a staid drama about religious duty that has sequences of sex comedy and psychological horror embedded within it. The nuns all feel like fragments of Kerr’s youthful Mother Superior personality, with each one becoming more overwrought by their defining mania, dutifulness or nostalgia as the seasons change. Kathleen Byron’s hysteria gripped subordinate in particular often feels like a dark mirror being held up to the protagonist as much as a character in her own right. Then you have browned up Simmons, Sabu, topless David Farrar and May Hallat as the more acclimatised ‘locals’ lustfullily squawking around the nuns like tempting harpies. A strangely disturbing experience, as much parable as straight narrative, told in bold strokes and flashes… just as you’d expect from The Archers.

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