The film opens with a title card reading Rachel Field's Time Out of Mind and begins with an offscreen narration by the character Kate Fernald, who recounts the return of Chris Fortune from his first sea voyage.
The production of this film is notable for its behind-the-scenes developments, as detailed in various news items. It's also notable for a certain lack of popularity among the guardians of noirish good taste, which makes it perennially ripe for reappraisal.
"Fam-dram", short of course for 'family drama' is a sub set of nearly all types of film making, but is well suited to melodrama and always enlivened by film noir styling. In April 1945, veteran screenwriter Jane Murfin chose Rachel Field's novel for her first producing venture at Universal Pictures. However, after nine months of preparation, Murfin resigned from the project in November 1946.
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| Ella Raines and Leo G. Carroll in Time Out Of Mind (1947) |
According to an October 1946 report, Robert Siodmak, initially signed to direct the film in mid-September of that year, stepped away from the production to take a vacation. Following his departure, Frank Ryan was assigned to direct. The production start date, however, was delayed until November 1946, prompting Siodmak to return and resume his role as both director and producer.
One September 1946 news item listed Ann Blyth as part of the cast, though she ultimately did not appear in the film. Additionally, studio publicity highlighted that Jan Jacobson provided piano coaching for Robert Hutton during the filming of piano-playing scenes.
All of which did appear to burst into the lobbies with the semi-decent promise incorporated in these few tags:
CHAINED TO A MAN SHE DARED NOT LOVE!
Three women caught in the web of one man's tangled emotions!
SHE HAD NO RIGHT TO HIM...yet no one could force her out of his house...nor stop her from loving him!
REVILED by a scheming woman! ABUSED by a selfish bride! IN BONDAGE to a man of iron! TAUNTED by one of her kind!
IN THE NAME OF LOVE...SHE ENDURED HIS FURY!
Strange stuff, and not exactly relevant, as ever. In all, Time Out of Mind (1947) was Universal’s ambitious attempt to replicate the allure of British Gainsborough period dramas, a genre celebrated for its brooding Gothic atmosphere and larger-than-life characters.
Directed by the versatile Robert Siodmak, the film relocates the genre’s dark romanticism to the rocky coast of 19th-century Maine, a stand-in for Gainsborough’s Cornwall. Despite its lush cinematography and an impressive ensemble cast, the film struggles to deliver the emotional resonance and narrative coherence of its British predecessors.
The story centers, turns, revolves and forms across the orbiting coat hooks of the character of Christopher Fortune (Robert Hutton), the son of a stern sea captain (Leo G. Carroll) who dreams of being a composer rather than a sailor. The noirish fool!
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| Time Out Of Mind (1947) |
After returning home from a disastrous maiden voyage, Chris’s resolve to avoid the sea pits him against his authoritarian father and forces him to seek solace in music. Caught in this familial web is Kate Fernald (Phyllis Calvert), the loyal housekeeper's daughter, who harbors unspoken love for Chris but sacrifices her feelings to support his future. Their complex, unfulfilled relationship forms the emotional core of the story.
Calvert, making her American debut after starring in Gainsborough classics like The Man in Grey, delivers a convincing performance as the long-suffering Kate. Her understated dignity contrasts sharply with Helena Carter’s portrayal of Chris’s cold, social-climbing wife, Clarissa.
Carter’s refined venom provides a necessary jolt of energy to the otherwise subdued drama. Meanwhile, Ella Raines excels as Rissa, Chris’s fiercely protective sister, but the script fails to clarify her dynamic with Kate and Chris, leaving their relationships oddly ambiguous.
Siodmak, known for noir masterpieces like The Killers and Criss Cross, brings a shadowy elegance to the film’s visuals. Miklós Rózsa’s score, however, overindulges in melodramatic flourishes, amplifying the film’s artificiality rather than its emotional depth.
Hutton’s performance as Chris is the film’s most glaring weakness. Chris is presented as a self-pitying, indecisive man dominated by stronger personalities, including his father, wife, and even Kate. Hutton fails to inject his character with enough charm or depth to make his downward spiral into alcoholism or his eventual redemption feel believable.
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| Time Out Of Mind (1947) |
A particularly unconvincing moment occurs when Chris sabotages a New York concert by drunkenly improvising a barroom tune during his performance, locking eyes with Clarissa in a defiant act of self-destruction.
The climax, featuring an absurd assassination plot orchestrated by Clarissa during Chris’s second concert, pushes the film into unintentionally comedic territory. This melodramatic crescendo, which should provide catharsis, instead highlights the film’s lack of coherence. The musical pieces themselves, which play a central role in Chris’s journey, are indistinguishable in tone and composition, further undermining the narrative stakes.
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| Time Out Of Mind (1947) |
Despite its flaws, Time Out of Mind offers noir styling, crashing waves aplenty, and moments of intrigue. The supporting cast, including Eddie Albert and John Abbott, adds texture to the ensemble, even if their characters remain underexplored. The film also raises fascinating questions about class and gender roles in 19th-century New England, particularly through Kate’s ambiguous position as both servant and emotional anchor to the Fortune family.
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| Time Out Of Mind (1947) |
However, these elements are insufficiently developed, leaving the audience with more confusion than insight, at least in the eyes of the many noir connoisseurs who have commented on it over the many years since its release.
Set in 19th-century Maine, Time Out of Mind draws inspiration from the British Gainsborough melodramas of the 1940s. With its Gothic atmosphere, intricate relationships, and brooding mansion, the film evokes the spirit of classics like The Man in Grey and Madonna of the Seven Moons. It even stars Gainsborough’s own Phyllis Calvert in her Hollywood debut as Kate Fernald, a maid with a surprisingly elevated role in the Fortune family.
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| Time Out Of Mind (1947) |
The story begins with the return of Captain Fortune’s (Leo G. Carroll) son, Christopher (Robert Hutton), aboard the family’s ship, the Rainbow. However, Chris is in a coma from a shipboard accident, leaving his sister Rissa (Ella Raines) and Kate anxiously attending his bedside. Captain Fortune, hardened by his own injury that ended his sailing career, expects Chris to fulfill his family duty and return to sea despite his recovery.
Chris, however, has no interest in the sailor’s life, aspiring instead to be a pianist and composer. With Kate’s help, Chris and Rissa escape to Paris to pursue his musical dreams, leaving Captain Fortune devastated. But when Chris returns years later, he has married the wealthy and manipulative Dora Drake (Helena Carter), further complicating the dynamics within the household.
While the film’s lavish set design and strong supporting performances shine, Time Out of Mind is hindered by its scattered storytelling. Intriguing subplots—such as Eddie Albert’s fishmonger lending money to Kate or Rissa’s troubling obsession with her brother—are left unresolved. These dangling threads undermine the emotional weight of the narrative and leave viewers with more questions than answers.
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| Time Out Of Mind (1947) |
The casting is another weak point. Robert Hutton, better suited to light comedies, struggles as the tormented musician Chris, whose descent into alcoholism and eventual redemption lack emotional resonance. Phyllis Calvert, though likeable, delivers a subdued performance as Kate. By contrast, Ella Raines dazzles as Rissa, whose ambiguous motives keep the audience guessing, and Helena Carter brings elegance and sharp wit to the role of the calculating Dora.
Yes, we would have to noirishly concur, the film is visually stunning. The Fortune mansion, with its intricate windows, staircases, and nautical-inspired decor, serves as a character in its own right, while the cinematography by Maury Gertsman captures the moody seaside atmosphere beautifully. Travis Banton’s costumes and Miklós Rózsa’s lush score add to the film’s opulence.
Although Time Out of Mind falls short of its Gainsborough inspirations, its Gothic charm and striking visuals make it an entertaining, if imperfect, melodrama.
Time Out of Mind, as the Large Language Models might mention, falters in its attempt to recreate the brooding romance and dramatic tension of the Gainsborough films. While its Gothic overtones and visually striking settings evoke the desired mood, the film's weak central performance and scattered storytelling prevent it from achieving the grandeur it aspires to. For fans of Siodmak’s oeuvre, it stands as a curious misstep—an example of how even a master director can falter when the material fails to match his talents.
This film holds particular significance as it marked the American film debut of British actress Phyllis Calvert. Her performance introduced her to a new audience, enhancing the film's cultural impact.
The combination of these production challenges and milestones offers a fascinating glimpse into the filmmaking process of the mid-20th century. From director changes to casting shifts and the debut of an international star, Time Out of Mind stands as a testament to the complexities of bringing a literary adaptation to the big screen during Hollywood's golden Golden Era.
Time Out of Mind (1947)
85-86 or 89 mins | Drama | May 1947 | Production Date:23 Nov 1946--late Jan 1947 | Copyright Number: Universal Pictures Co., inc.28 May 1951LP1071
