Such a frustrating disappointment

Good concept, poorly executed.

The film creates a perfect balance between action and depth of basic needs, in the midst of an infertile atmosphere.

The best films of this genre always show a path and provide a takeaway for being a better person.

This 77-minute documentary covers a lot of interesting and illuminating ground on acclaimed producer Val Newton, who made a name for himself with a series of moody low-budget horror films done in the 1940's for RKO Radio Pictures. Among the things we learn about Lewton was that he was a modest and unassuming guy who grew up around powerful women and attended military school, Lewton was a writer prior to becoming a producer, and he was an idealist who loved the sea. Moreover, we also find out that Lewton was an extremely hands-on producer who preferred that things be suggested instead of shown in his movies, he married his high school sweetheart, and later on in his career Lewton had trouble getting various projects off the ground. Nicely narrated with reserved aplomb by Martin Scorsese, with insightful interviews with such folks as Newton's son Val E. Newton, Roger Corman, and director Jacques Tourneur, it's essential viewing for Val Lewton fans.

How well I remember seeing Cat People for the first time. I was almost bowled over by my first sight of poetic horror. It was the 1950's and cheap monsters were all over the drive-ins, fun, but hardly mesmerizing. Then, suddenly, there was Lewton's flick on the late show and I was transfixed by a whole new world of fright movies. The shadowy b&w was riveting, but the shadows of my imagination were beyond even that. As they say- a whole new world had opened up. Over time, I managed to catch the bulk of Lewton's extraordinary canon, especially The Seventh Victim (1943). That movie's bold ending showed what film censorship typically denied us. I tried to learn more about Lewton, but movie books were almost non-existent at a time when movies were still not considered an art form. To say that Lewton was an obscure moviemaker in a time of Ford, Huston, and De Mille seems almost an understatement. It wasn't until I got a collection of James Agee's magazine reviews that I saw Lewton's brilliance publicly affirmed.Thanks now to Matin Scorsese, later generations can dive into Lewton's fascinating world in a single sitting. The 75-minutes is replete with clips from his best films, along with commentary from Lewton directors Robert Wise and Jacques Tourneur, and other luminaries. Too bad the illustrious part of his career was so brief, brought down by studio maneuvering. More importantly, Lewton's work shows how unparalled b&w artistry continues even in our era of colorized spectacle. Plus, Lewton uses the spooky not only to open up horror but to lead us into the unique world of a lonely child (Curse of the Cat People, {1944}). Maybe I'm just an old fogey, but I'll bet if you tune in, you'll be as fascinated as I was on that long ago night.

Val Lewton is a deeply respected hero of American cinema, but his works are best appreciated without scholars telling you why Lewton's contributions are so important. To begin with, it's disrespectful to the directors of Lewton's films to have film historians waxing on about every detail and crediting Lewton almost exclusively, as if he was the director. In the event that you never noticed before, Hollywood is collectively its own biggest fan. Watching Turner Classic Movies on a regular basis will expose you to film experts and movie people gushing over past works as if God himself, or perhaps they were interim Dr. Frankensteins acting as proxy creators. Martin Scorsese is almost as well known for his embellishments on the topic as he is for his own pictures."Val Lewton: The Man in the Shadows" is a library of prose praising the visual style, the dialog, the lighting, the mood -- attributes normally credited to the director, as if the actual directors of these films were merely showing up and collecting a check while Lewton commandeered every job on and off the set. The fault is, as noted before, the self-referential adoration from the industry itself of its own offspring. Imagine for a moment having to hear such praise of one's work from carpenters, mechanics, teachers, civil servants, construction crews...it would be appalling to be subjected to poetic essays on the greatness of their jobs which are, truth be known, of much greater significance to society as a whole.The moral of the story: the entertainment industry needs to get over itself, do its job and go home. The single benefit of this production is that the films highlighted can be looked at as more detailed trailers, even though the films represented are quite a bit overstated. Let movies entertain you and forget the idea that experts need to teach you how to enjoy them.

Val Lewton was born in Russia and emigrated as a child with his family to America. He worked around the outskirts of Hollywood for a while before becoming a producer of what were called horror films at RKO Studios. This was in the early 1940s. He died shortly after the end of the war, of a heart condition.During his active period, this melancholy and retiring man -- who rewrote all his scripts without taking any screen credit -- led a unit of friends and compatible colleagues that produced some of the most haunting, small-budget, eerie movies to come out of Hollywood, about nine all together.This documentary by Martin Scorsese is an appreciation of Lewton's work, and nicely done it is. Lewton deserves all the attention and thought that went into the documentary. There are abundant excerpts from his films and interesting commentaries from a handful of talking heads, including that of the little girl from "The Curse of the Cat People", now fully grown."The Curse of the Cat People" is emblematic of the titles and material being thrown at Lewton while he was at RKO. The studio had just produced "Citizen Kane," a ruinously expensive flop at the time, and its new motto was "Showmanship, Not Genius." An additional impetus to the formation of Lewton's unit came from the success of Universal Studios' monster movies: "Frankenstein," "Dracula," "The Wolfman," "The Curse of Frankenstein," "The Briss of Dracula," and what not. The intention was for Lewton to make competitive monster movies at less cost. He did considerably more than that. He was stuck with the lurid titles and the sometimes irrational plots but he managed to polish the stories and see that they were filmed with impeccable taste.The narration is well written and insightful. Here's an instance of what I mean. I'd never realized it before but the most hair-raising moments in Lewton's movies are handled very briefly. They last only an instant or two -- a bus hissing to a halt, a trickle of blood under a door, the hoof beats of a horse turning into a flapping old automobile tire -- whereas today one would find these effects not only made more explicit but lingered over until the audience was on the edge of exhaustion or maybe beyond that.For those who are interested, there is a boxed set of nine of Lewton's best films now available on DVD, and each film is accompanied by a knowledgeable commentary.