source: The Leopard Man

An atmospheric chiller from the Val Lewton stable, directed by Jacques Tourneur (the man who brought us the truly incredible NIGHT OF THE DEMON), which sadly overdoes the subtlety of the story to the point of boredom; but as with all of the Lewton-produced horrors of the 1940s, this is intelligent and suspenseful entertainment, which displays some excellent use of black and white photography and plenty of creepy moments as damsels in distress encounter malevolent big cats and greater evils in the middle of the night. There is also at least one great, horrifying moment, namely the set-piece in which the blood seeps under the door. Unfortunately the rest of the film is a little lacking, with a bare minimum of action and a reliance on subtlety throughout in terms of story, menace, death, and action. Ironically for such a subtle film this fails as an admirable whodunit, because the identity of the killer is perfectly obvious directly from his first appearance on the screen. The acting is generally of a high order, but again the actors and actresses are bound to give restrained, somewhat uninteresting performances, apart from the guy playing the killer who has a great performance to hand. Aside from the aforementioned highlight, the horror is kept to a bare minimum, but fans who can sit through the talky dialogue bits may find the heavy atmosphere and film noir appeal to their liking. More patient viewers may also find this film of a greater interest, but I definitely prefer my horrors more explicit and on-screen in films from this decade. Bring back Boris Karloff!

If you want to understand movies, among other necessities you have to understand horror, how a story told in movies pictures can terrify you as badly as any nightmare. You have to spend time, therefore with these guys, Tourneur and Woolrich. This is classic stuff and a real lesson because the important things are done excellently and the unimportant — it seems deliberately — done poorly. The unimportant part of the movie is the story and everything that supports it. A leopard escapes and is blamed for three deaths. The story grinds to an offhand and dramatically weak conclusion. The important part is the deaths. Three deaths, one girl and two women. The first case is perhaps the most chilling because the storytelling is so tight. We haven't met these characters before and won't subsequently. They are there only for the killing. A little girl is sent out in the dark to get a minor grocery by her bitchy mother. She is afraid of the dark and needs to go much further than planned. On the way home, she encounters the beast and is terrified. The cinematic horror comes from us knowing what the mother does not. The girl pounds on the door, pounds for her life and the mother refuses. The second case is more long form: the victim is introduced with amazing efficiency. We learn a huge amount about her in a few minutes. This is a creature that we understand: the character development is far better than anything else in the movie. She goes a graveyard to meet a clandestine lover of a lower class. She gets locked and encounters the beast. She similarly pounds the door in horror and this murder inherits all the terror of the one before. The final case is quite different. It involves a character we know, at least we have encountered her in the "main" story. Her sound has permeated the entire movie. The horror of her death isn't portrayed as in the other two cases, and there are lots of details about this death (like the lipstick) that don't add up. Long before this, we've suspected the truth about the murders, but this shift in narrative signals that the characters will come to a similar revelation. This business about showing us things the characters don't know isn't all that old. It developed well before these guys got it. But they knew how to use it. Its not a good film, but important in the history of horror. Ted's Evaluation -- 3 of 3: Worth watching.

Tourneur stamps himself as a die hard Hitler worshiper with this film. Only the most die hard Nazi can enjoy his constant predictable butchering of women with dark hair in his propaganda movies. Ho hum. He does it again. It's very depressing to heterosexual males, but the target audience are jealous women who want to see gorgeous competition disappear. Here, he uses an escaped black leopard and a man to show his Nazi idealism that it is animal nature to kill dark haired women. That is all he does. He died in 1977, but his Nazi sickness lives on in modern day Hitler worship. That's all this movie is. Sorry. Now you know what the target audience is. If that is you, go for it. If not, expect super depression to follow upon watching.

The escape of nightclub performer's leopard is followed by a series of mutilations--but are these the work of the leopard or of a serial killer stalking a small southwestern town? Although not one of producer Val Lewton's better known films, director Tourner endows the story with considerable atmosphere, and the result is a moody and intriguing film that holds it own with the more celebrated CAT PEOPLE and I WALKED WITH A ZOMBIE. Like other Lewton films, THE LEOPARD MAN relies more upon what it suggests than upon what it actually shows. This film is particularly effective in building suspense in a series of scenes that show various characters walking--a saucy Spanish dancer strolling along the street, a frightened teenager making a night-time trip to the grocer, a young woman rushing through a cemetery at night. The cinematography is elegant in its simplicity, and the sound design is quite remarkable. Hard to find, but Lewton fans will find it worth seeking out. Gary F. Taylor, aka GFT, Amazon Reviewer

I think 'The Leopard Man' is the most memorable and frightening of the three Lewton-Tourneur collaborations. While it may be more straightforward than 'I Walked With a Zombie' or 'Cat People,' it's more atmospheric and more effective because its chills are predicated on agoraphobic horror. 'I Walked With a Zombie' was confined to a tropical island setting, while 'The Leopard Man' takes place in a New Mexico border town, on the edge of town, so that we travel along the desolate and wide open spaces of the sleepy Southwest at nighttime. Early in the film, a young Mexican girl is sent on a late-night errand by her mother to buy some tortilla. Being that the shop is closed, she must traverse the sandy expanse between town and the nearest open shop. During this trek, she must pass under a bridge, and the shadows and sounds that stalk her are terrifying. Recalling this scene, right now, gives me goosebumps. Horror is the most cinematic of all genres, because it works directly on the viewer's emotions and fears, using atmosphere, sound, and montage as its tools. Most horror films are either exploitative or slick and empty, unfortunately, but to watch 'The Leopard Man' is to encounter the full potential of the horror genre, as Tourneur paints with shadows and not entrails. Forgive its plot holes and its lunkheaded denouement, because the journey there is a hair-raising walk in the dark.

After their success in 1942 with the fabulous 'Cat People', the star team of producer Val Lewton and director Jacques Tourneur would team up twice the year later. First for the compelling and brilliant 'I Walked With a Zombie', and second for this film; The Leopard Man. For the movie, the two filmmakers re-cast the star of their first success, the big black leopard, in this movie, who once again plays a big black leopard. The screenplay this time round makes far better use of the animal at the centre of the film, which allows the impressive creature to make a much bigger impression on the movie, and it also gives the film a unique edge over other horror movies, as there aren't a great deal that can build around a leopard. In fact, one thing that struck me about this movie was it's similarity to the 1980's remake of Cat People, and I wonder just how much influence that film took from this production. Anyway, the story here is deliriously simple and it follows a leopard that has escaped from a nightclub. After a few deaths, the cat is blamed...but is there more to this scenario than meets the eye? Just like Val Lewton's earlier and later productions, The Leopard Man is notable for it's breathtaking atmosphere, which is once again up there with the greatest ever seen in cinema. The use of shadows and lighting is impressive, and when you combine this with Jacques Tourneur's incredible ability to stage a scene amidst this atmosphere; you've got a recipe for a truly great horror movie. This movie isn't as full of great scenes as Cat People was, but there is still some really good stuff on display, including my favourite scene which sees someone mauled behind a closed door. I'm not a big subscriber to the idea of 'less is more', but the scene I just mentioned goes to show just how well it can work if utilised properly. If the film had directly shown the killing, it would have uprooted the atmosphere and the terror of the movie on the whole wouldn't have been as astute. As it happens, The Leopard Man has got it spot on. But then again, would you expect anything less from a Val Lewton production?

Kiki and Clo-Clo (I just love these names.) are rivals in a nightclub act. To upstage Clo-Clo, Kiki's boyfriend arranges for her to enter the club with a black leopard on a leash while Clo-Clo is performing. But things don't go as planned and the leopard escapes. Later that night, a young woman is killed outside her home by a leopard. More deaths of women are blamed on the leopard. But is it really the leopard that's responsible for the deaths or is a maniac using the leopard as a cover to commit murder? The Leopard Man has an unusual story structure that I find very appealing. Most of the events in the movie and most of the people (or victims) we meet occur through the movements of Clo-Clo. As she walks through the streets, she runs into or passes seemingly random persons. We are immediately taken into their world for a brief glimpse of their lives before the inevitable occurs. It's the realization that these people are unknowingly in danger because of a chance meeting with Clo-Clo and they can do nothing about it that creates much of the suspense in The Leopard Man. The Leopard Man features some of the best set-pieces and scenes Val Lewton ever put together. The death of the first girl, Teresa, is the most obvious example. To get home, Teresa must go through a tunnel knowing full well that a leopard has escaped and may be inside ready to pounce. This scene is nothing short of scary. It's one of the most frightening moments from a Lewton movie. Teresa finally reaches home but is unable to get inside the house. Before her mother and brother can get the door open, Teresa is attacked. The camera pans to the floor to show the blood running into the house. It's a very chilling moment and one of the best that Lewton ever made. Most of Lewton's films have a "look" to them that I find very pleasing. In this department, The Leopard Man doesn't disappoint. Everything from the "noirish" look of the city streets to the use of shadows to create atmosphere gives these movies part of their distinctiveness. Lewton couldn't afford fancy special effects or high-priced actors, so he made up for this by creating some of the most visually stunning movies I've seen. In short, The Leopard Man is a real treat to the eye.

This film had very modest pretensions, with a relatively low budget and second-string actors. Plus, at only 66 minutes, it's obvious that this was a "B-picture"--in other words, intended as the second and less expensive film on a double-feature. This isn't meant to insult the film, but to describe a style of film common mostly in the 1940s. Because of this, you really can't compare this film to A-pictures, but need to understand that despite the budget, this is an excellent film--though not as eerie or effective as other Val Lewton produced films such as THE CAT PEOPLE or I WALKED WITH A ZOMBIE. The film starts with a publicity stunt gone awry, as in the process a black leopard escapes and the town is quite naturally scared. Over the next several days, three women are mauled and this is assumed to be the work of the escaped cat. However, the exact cause of the deaths isn't sure--is it due to the leopard or is it murder?! The film had decent though not especially inspired acting. However, the plot itself was the star, as it took several nifty twists and turns and the film was intelligently written from start to finish. A smart and effective film that's well worth your time.

Dennis O'Keefe and Jean Brooks decide to elevate their act in New Mexico by having Brooks walk on-stage with a black leopard. The Mexican castanet dancer, Clo Clo(deliciously played by Margo), mashes the castanets menacingly at the cat, it flees, and a panic spreads amongst the people of the little village. Soon, one girl dies, then another, and another...and evidence points that a cat did it and later to something completely different. The Leopard Man is one of those rare films that is very effective with shadows and fog without showing anything. We never see any of the deaths happen "on-stage" so to speak. The imaginations of the viewers are enlisted to conjure up what might be the scene of each murder. Director Jacques Tournier and producer Val Lewton probably team up for their best collaboration. This film is laced with moody atmosphere, great pacing, quality performances, and a script worked over by the camera that enforces theme and symbolic meaning throughout. I found this film haunting, eerie, and poetic in its own way. O' Keefe, James Bell, Margo, Brooks, and the entire cast give credible turns and enforce our ability to accept what is going on.Some scenes are quite memorable: the young girl walking back home from the store is a classic scene of terror, the cemetery scene, and the procession of the monks allowed Tournier to work his magic with the lens. Tournier was always able to tell so much story with so little dialog. Though some might find the ending a bit of a letdown, I thoroughly enjoyed The Leopard Man.