Review: ‘I Walked with a Zombie’ Classic Cinema that Breaks the B-Movie Mold

Producer Val Lewton and his director Jacques Tourneur flew beneath the artistically constricting tentacles of the Hollywood studio machine to become a B-movie juggernaut of the 1940s. Lewton, who was the unusual combination of auteur, writer, and producer, rarely seen at the peak of the studio system, found and guided (read: drove) his talent to produce an always visually pristine product, on time, and within budget.

The 7-9 films that form the core of Lewton’s oeuvre are a seminal combination of horror, noir, and fantasy that wade into the depths of the human unconscious. In his short career, Lewton squeezed every drop out his meager budgets, making his low-rent films look and sound like luxe journeys into the dark side by pushing the limits of the ingenuity of the artists and technicians who worked for him.

Since he had almost no budget for special effects, Lewton mastered the art of hinting, intimating, and implying rather than showing. His economic and narratively effective approach has been imitated by many of his successors. The flitting shadow, the disorienting chiaroscuro, the scream in the dark.

“I Walked with a Zombie” is Lewton’s pared down, demonized version of “Jane Eyre.” It vies with “The Curse of the Cat People” for status as his masterpiece. If the subject matter were not zombies, you would be hard pressed to call this a B-movie. Besides the sleek, clean, compelling cinematography and deft direction, there is the incisive script and talented cast.

The script is lean and propulsive. Every strand of dialogue and action builds character and at the same time moves the plot forward. It is hard to believe that we meet and know the brooding plantation owner, the naive nurse, the lovelorn brother, and the rest of the inhabitants of San Sebastian Island, including the titular zombie, in only 69 minutes. No padding, no fat. The film’s sinewy plot twines around our imaginations in a shamelessly naked embrace.

All the lead actors in this film could and should have had A-list careers. Kay Francis, a sensitive and boldly beautiful actor, did appear in several A-list films but for some, probably political, reason she never firmly established herself in that realm.

The same goes for brooding, suave Tom Conway. But his failure to ascend is more understandable, in that his brother George Sanders (“All About Eve”), got there first. And unlike today when we have 3 Hemsworths and uncounted array of Skarsgårds parading before us at the same time, in those days there was only room for one. Though Conway sounded exactly like his more famous brother, he was handsomer, no less talented, and his posture was far better. Go figure.

Perhaps because Lewton’s movies created the formula (low-budget/always turn a profit) by which Roger Corman, and later Blumhouse have thrived, he endured less scrutiny than his big-budget, prestige-movie peers. “I Walked with a Zombie” makes racism visible and audible. It is rare that black characters had their say in mid-century Hollywood.

The truly egregious loss to the A-list is Teresa Harris, who appeared in films with many top stars, always as a maid. Harris who was pretty, pert, intelligent, and prepossessing was also black. In this film, she has quite a bit of screen time, which further confirms that she coulda been a contender had times been different.

“Val Lewton: The Man in the Shadows” (2007) would be a good watch with this film if you want to know more about him. Otherwise, I recommend “Jane Eyre” (1943) made in the same year as “I Walked with a Zombie.” This is a top-tier adaption of the novel and makes a great compare and contrast. See if you don’t like Francis Dee and Tom Conway better that Joan Fontaine and Orson Wells.