I Walked With a Zombie (1943)

I Walked With a Zombie (1943) is a supernatural exotic Vodou thriller, super-fun with the uber-Caribbean heat of the sound stage, creative in tone, vision, effects, acting, sound, use of magic, monstrosity, novel monstrosity, zombification, film noir and the very mother birthing of the zombie movement, the liekyl most critical of all film styles and genres the zombie film

Did film noir birth the zombie film, it is for you to decide. Watch all film noir and all zombie films, and then respond. No, I Walked with a Zombie (1943) is not the first zombie film, but it is often considered one of the most acclaimed pre-Romero zombie movies. The 1932 film White Zombie is generally considered the first zombie movie. 

But is I Walked With a Zombie (1943) the second of all zombie film? Did the originator reels of the incredible and inventive and angry zombie style have their root in film noir?

In I Walked with a Zombie (1943), Val Lewton and Jacques Tourneur masterfully blend the macabre with colonial societal critique, using the lush West Indian setting and the looming figure of St. Sebastian to symbolize sacrifice and suffering. 

Betsy Connell (Frances Dee), the film’s protagonist, falls into the island’s voodoo mysticism, influenced by Jessica’s maid, Alma (Teresa Harris). Betsy’s love for Paul (Tom Conway), Jessica’s husband, drives her to seek a cure for Jessica's catatonic state, leading to a mesmerizing voodoo ceremony that evokes both fear and sympathy. 

In a scene rife with tension, Betsy walks the sleepwalking Jessica through the jungle to the ceremony, the wind howling and shadows playing on the sugar cane fields in a moment that showcases Tourneur’s masterful direction.

There is a case to be made for I Walked With a Zombie (1943) being a lousy husband movie for while Tom Conway as Paul, for while his wife is confined to bed and complete silence, a comatose walking version of her former self and to all intents it would seem a zombie — Paul does manage to gaslight the hell out of her, a fair achievement given that she is all but dead.

Husband Paul indeed seems to care nothing for her and have all sorts of mysterious rules, and Betsy learns from a calypso song — the narrative device of incidental local song — that Jessica was going to run away with Wesley, before she became sick and zombified. 

Betsy, who has fallen in love with Paul, becomes determined to make him happy by curing Jessica and gets him to agree to a risky insulin shock treatment. When that fails, Alma, Paul's maid, convinces Betsy that she should take Jessica to be healed by the houngan (Vodou priest) at the houmfort (Vodou temple).

The overt message around this lousy husband narrative is that Paul has actually made his wife like this, through controlling jealous and other lousy behaviours. The alcoholic and the suffering women, already dead, although euthanised once more by her drunken lover, both die as a strange conclusion

The film critiques the misogynistic framework inherited from colonial society, particularly through its portrayal of Jessica, who becomes the object of male desire and punishment. The island's natives, like Betsy, are trapped in a narrative of superstition and inherited power dynamics, both longing for liberation from the zombified Jessica and complicit in her fate. Everything that lurks within this gloriously analysable film is real, the race and the gender tropes are magnificently revealing, and the stuff of many a thesis.

Val Lewton’s films often challenge conventional views on death, portraying it not merely as a finality but as a possible release. In I Walked with a Zombie, death, in the form of drowning, becomes a resolution for Wesley and Jessica, echoing the symbolic martyrdom of St. Sebastian, whose statue frames the film’s beginning and  ending. The ambiguous morality at play—whether Paul or Wesley is to blame for Jessica’s fate, and Mrs. Rand’s role as both Christian missionary and Vodou priestess—adds layers of intrigue.

I Walked with a Zombie is also a unique entry in the zombie genre, diverging from the typical horror fare to deliver something more akin to a mystery. Directed by Jacques Tourneur and produced by Val Lewton, the film is often compared to their earlier collaboration, Cat People, for its atmospheric storytelling and subtle suspense. 

Both films share an ambiguity that blurs the line between the supernatural and reality, keeping the viewer guessing about whether the events are otherworldly or explainable. Add to that a sprinkling of Jane Eyre set in the exotic West Indies, and you have a haunting film that lingers long after it ends.

Tourneur’s mastery of atmosphere is superior, creating unforgettable scenes that evoke a deep sense of dread. The rustling of the wind through the sugar cane fields, the drums beating in the night, and the eerie presence of a skeletal zombie who stands like a lifeless scarecrow are all elements that make this film immersive.

The performances, particularly by Frances Dee, are restrained and effective, allowing the movie’s visual storytelling to shine. The dialogue is fine, but it’s the lighting, sets, and camera work that elevate the film to a poetic, dreamlike level.

Despite its title, I Walked with a Zombie doesn’t follow any of the more typical horror formulae. The film leans on suggestion and inference, making the audience question whether the story is grounded in the supernatural or something more tangible. 

The mystery deepens as the narrative unfolds, and by the end, viewers are left uncertain about what they’ve just witnessed. This film exemplifies the offbeat, atmospheric horror that Tourneur and Lewton excelled at, and its timeless quality ensures it continues to haunt audiences today.

For all this, the classic status, or immortal possibilities of commentary present in I Walked with a Zombie suggest more than just a haunting and poetic film that delivers more in atmosphere than in narrative coherence. Its most memorable scene, featured in Martin Scorsese's A Personal Journey Through American Movies, showcases a twilight journey through the cane fields, where Frances Dee’s Betsy leads Christine Gordon’s Jessica in a dreamlike trance. This sequence is so good that anyone who sees it is bound to be intrigued by the film, even if the rest of the movie doesn't entirely live up to that one eerie moment.

While the film doesn’t fully capitalize on the weird promise of its best parts, those individual moments—like the voodoo ceremony and the hypnotic, black-and-white cinematography—remain captivating. The imagery, sound design, and moody use of shadows make I Walked with a Zombie (1943) a masterpiece of atmosphere.

Lewton’s knack for suggestion over shock is evident, using implied chills to create a sense of unease. The calypso songs sung by Sir Lancelot add to the film's haunting qualities, subtly hinting at the island’s darker secrets. As well as delivering plot points the idea of creeping someone out by means of folk song is meta-tastic as well as a narrative joy. The story of the film is somehow told in these songs, almost unto an idea of an unpleasantly comic shock. The singer knows more than you do, always.

Val Lewton, despite being handed this project by the studio, crafted a film that transcends its B-movie roots. Borrowing elements from Charlotte Brontë's Jane Eyre, Lewton moved the gothic romance to a Caribbean island, adding layers of mystery and mysticism. The story centres and turns and revolves and goes round and circles nurse Betsy Connell (Frances Dee), who cares for the comatose Jessica Holland, and the tangled relationships involving Jessica’s husband Paul (Tom Conway) and his half-brother Wesley (James Ellison).

Though the film’s plot is odd and unlikely, its atmospheric power is undeniable. The interplay of light and shadow, the suspenseful score, and Tourneur’s direction elevate the film into something deeply hypnotic and emotionally resonant. While the performances of the male leads are subdued to the point of being stiff, the film’s visual storytelling and psychological depth are what make it stand out.

Hollywood’s treatment of race in the mid-20th century often involved either excluding Black people or limiting them to stereotypical roles, reflecting broader societal racism. Although the post-World War II period saw the emergence of more liberal films that attempted to address racial integration, their portrayals were often inadequate in truly representing Black culture or addressing the complexities of racism in America. 

Films like Home of the Brave (1949) and Bataan (1943) featured Black characters in important roles, partly due to the Office of War Information’s (OWI) push to emphasize interracial cooperation during the war effort. However, these depictions often distorted reality, such as showing integrated military units in Bataan, even though the U.S. military remained segregated at the time.

Despite the introduction of integration laws in the 1940s, American society and Hollywood remained racist in effect and action, and the positive portrayals of Black characters were often assimilated into white society. Even in progressive films like Pinky (1949) and Edge of the City (1957), Black characters were depicted as no different from middle-class whites, avoiding an authentic portrayal of Black culture. 

the popularity of stars like Sidney Poitier and Dorothy Dandridge was also tied to their palatable portrayal for white audiences, with Poitier often cast as an educated and non-threatening figure.

The Val Lewton-produced horror films, including I Walked with a Zombie, were marked by a liberal perspective, often carried by European émigré filmmakers. These films, though seemingly conventional within the horror genre, often subverted genre norms and offered a deeper commentary on American society in the 1940s. 

For example, Cat People explored female sexuality, challenging traditional social norms, while I Walked with a Zombie provided an insightful examination of race relations and alternative belief systems like Voudo.

In viewing I Walked with a Zombie, we view a film which challenges the conventions of rational thought and Western science, privileging non-rational discourses, especially through its portrayal of Voudon. 

Unlike typical Hollywood depictions, which often sensationalized or dismissed Voudo as mere superstition, Lewton and Tourneur presented it with respect and accuracy, recognizing its importance in the everyday life of the Black characters. The film’s portrayal of Voudo is rooted in extensive research, and it acknowledges the religion's historical significance, especially in the context of slavery and resistance.

The film critiques the racial and social dynamics of post-colonial society, reflecting on how Black culture, particularly through Voudo, served both as a form of resistance and a tool of empowerment for the enslaved. Voudo is portrayed as a vital element of Black heritage, carrying the weight of centuries of oppression and rebellion, as exemplified by its role in the Haitian Revolution.

Tourneur’s film noir style and the film's narrative structure work to destabilize the white viewpoint. Throughout the film, Black characters subtly challenge white authority and discourse. For instance, Betsy’s ignorance about the island’s colonial history is met with quiet but pointed responses from the Black characters, reflecting their resistance to white domination. 

The calypso singer Sir Lancelot’s song, which exposes the moral decay of the white Holland-Rand family, serves as a powerful act of social criticism, undermining white superiority and asserting Black cultural strength.

I Walked with a Zombie offers a narrative which explores various themes, such as colonialism, race, and gender, using the symbolism of zombification. One critical aspect the film engages with is how transgressions—whether sexual or social—are punished in a manner that evokes slavery, both literally and metaphorically. 

Bernard Diedrich notes that, particularly in the Haitian context, zombification is seen as a punishment for violating communal or religious taboos, effectively re-enslaving the transgressor. This context is reflected in the character Jessica, whose affair with Wes is framed as a transgression that tears apart the Rand-Holland family.

Mrs. Rand’s use of vodou to punish Jessica demonstrates the theme of colonial power dynamics, where even those who dismiss such beliefs, like Mrs. Rand, eventually succumb to their psychological grip. In this sense, Mrs. Rand's actions, though rooted in a colonial disdain for African spiritual practices, backfire and invert her status from a colonial maste" to a victim of her unconscious reliance on these beliefs.

RKO Pictures, despite never reaching the status of major Hollywood studios, built a reputation for artistic innovation. The studio's financial constraints and lack of dominant stars encouraged creativity, often allowing filmmakers greater freedom. 

This environment enabled the inexperienced Orson Welles to make Citizen Kane, a film that transformed cinematic narrative and changed everything, simultaneously birthing the cinema's most vital film forces: film noir and arthouse.

Even with lower budgets, RKO's B-units, particularly the horror division led by Val Lewton, achieved remarkable production quality. Lewton, who opposed typical Hollywood genre conventions, produced films that explored deeper human issues.

Lewton’s unit embraced unconventional methods, as financial limitations required innovation. Joel Siegel describes these films as fragmented and "osaic-like,"sketching narratives rather than telling them directly. This approach, seen in films like I Walked with a Zombie, contrasts with the straightforward horror films of Universal Studios. Lewton's films manipulated the audience’s perception, creating unsettling narratives within ordinary settings.

In I Walked with a Zombie, the result is a haunting and layered narrative which does make a stab at challenging the conventional authority of storytelling. As J. Hillis Miller notes, discourse naturally contains fragmentation and a lack of unifying authority, which Lewton exploits to create an unsettling atmosphere. The film's voice-over, particularly Betsy's introductory narration, suggests a comforting frame of rationality. 

Yet, as the story unfolds, it becomes clear that her perspective is limited, naïve, and unable to fully grasp the complexity of the world around her.

Betsy’s early observations, like her romanticized view of the Caribbean, are quickly countered by Paul Holland’s grim perspective. His bleak descriptions of death and decay challenge Betsy’s initial idealism, establishing a narrative tension between different perspectives. Lewton uses these contrasting viewpoints to explore the limits of understanding, as Betsy’s attempts to rationalize the mysteries she encounters are consistently undermined by the voices and experiences of others.

The film's visual motifs, such as the recurring use of bars and barriers, further emphasize Betsy's alienation from her environment. As she peers through windows and gates, her distance from the truth becomes increasingly apparent. Even her attempts to explain Jessica’s zombified state are challenged by other characters, each offering their own interpretations, from medical diagnoses to supernatural explanations.

Through fragmented storytelling, Lewton creates a world where no single narrative holds authority, forcing Betsy—and the audience—into a deeper immersion in the film's mysteries. The calypso singer’s song, for example, introduces new narrative layers, implicating Betsy in the island’s tragic love triangle. As Betsy becomes more involved in the unfolding events, she, like the audience, is drawn into a world where reality and fantasy blur, and where no explanation is fully satisfactory.

In I Walked with a Zombie, the voice-over narration, reminiscent of Citizen Kane, introduces multiple perspectives. Betsy's voice-over initially promises an explanation of the supernatural but instead reveals her naivete. The film’s unconventional narrative structure reflects Lewton’s concern with how we distance ourselves from the unknown, challenging traditional horror conventions and exploring the mysterious world with depth.

The film also critiques colonialism through the metaphor of zombification itself. As Sartre remarked, colonizers often perceive the colonized as zombies—dehumanized and emotionally dead—but in reality, this condition reflects the alienation and emotional deadness of the colonizers themselves. Lewton’s film makes a similar point, suggesting that the entire colonial system dehumanizes all involved, leaving both colonizers and the colonized as emotionally deadened beings trapped in a legacy of oppression.

The film also challenges white discourse by presenting voodoo and non-Western belief systems as equally valid to Western scientific thought. In I Walked with a Zombie, the ambiguity surrounding whether zombies "really" exist is less important than the exploration of these alternative belief systems and their complex relationship with the colonial history of the island. 

The film shows how the legacy of slavery and colonialism has left a deep psychological impact on both the black and white characters. Zombification becomes not just a literal curse, but a metaphor for the way colonialism deadens the spirit and strips individuals of agency.

Moreover, Tourneur and Lewton’s depiction of race and vodou is notably more respectful and nuanced than typical Hollywood treatments of the time. The film resists the usual sensationalism associated with voodoo, offering a more accurate and respectful portrayal, even hiring voodoo experts as consultants. This respect extends to the black characters in the film, who are portrayed with dignity and moral complexity, subverting the racist stereotypes typical of Hollywood's representations of African religion and culture. 

Black characters in the film, such as Alma, are shown practicing their religion as part of their everyday lives, in ways that are integral to their community and identity. The inclusion of Sir Lancelot’s calypso song, which subtly criticizes the white Holland-Rand family, further highlights the film’s subversive treatment of race and colonialism.

Tourneur and Lewton’s film thus stands as a critique of the colonial mindset, suggesting that the legacy of slavery and racial oppression has created a society where both colonizers and the colonized are trapped in a cycle of emotional and spiritual deadness. By refusing to present a clear resolution or narrative closure, the film leaves open the question of whether true reconciliation or understanding between the races is possible, highlighting the ongoing struggles of post-colonial societies to grapple with their histories of oppression.

The film’s ambiguous ending, and its refusal to fully endorse Western rationalism, further challenges the dominant white narrative, suggesting that the answers to the mysteries in the film lie beyond the scope of Western science and logic. I Walked with a Zombie thus stands as a radical text for its time, using the horror genre to explore themes of resistance, race, and the limits of Western discourse.

Films that did address racial difference often presented it as exotic or dangerous, as seen in film noirs like D.O.A (1950), where Black jazz music and performers symbolized a descent into chaos and desire. In this context, Jacques Tourneur’s I Walked with a Zombie stands out for challenging the dominant racial representations of its time, offering a more nuanced portrayal of Black characters and culture, though still operating within the limitations of Hollywood's system.

I Walked with a Zombie may not fit the traditional mold of a horror film, but it is a fascinating exploration of human psychology, colonialism, and folklore, wrapped in a visually stunning, atmospheric package. Its blend of romance, mystery, and the supernatural leaves a lasting impression, particularly in those unforgettable scenes that have inspired directors like Scorsese to this day.

The film's atmospheric direction, use of light and shadow, and hypnotic voodoo ritual scenes overshadow the less-than-stellar performances of the male leads, creating a haunting and immersive narrative that explores the complexities of colonialism, love, and sacrifice

Look closely for the Any characters and events depicted in this photoplay... notice. under the opening credits. Especially note this line: Any similarity to actual persons living, dead, or possessed is purely coincidental.

I Walked with a Zombie (1943)

Directed by Jacques Tourneur

Genres - Drama, Fantasy, Horror, Romance  |   Sub-Genres - Supernatural Horror Film, Zombie Film  |   Release Date - Apr 21, 1943  |   Run Time - 69 min.