Black Narcissus

Genuine classic from 1947, technicolour movie by Powell and Pressburger, cinematographer Jack Cardiff.
And it is Cardiff who is really the star here. We don't know enough about the production to say his exact input in the shots, but this is a film of place, of precipices and of backdrops. The Himalyan peaks and snowtops dominate the actors, the characters, nearly every scene. Characters are portrayed as being overawed, overcome by what is around them.
This applies to the central theme of repression. This is well shown by colour, where the deathly whites of the nuns are eventually overome by the surroundings of rich, deep, sensuous reds (even mirrored in the colour of the lens, in a particularly electrifying moment).
This film is slightly oddly paced and the script does not spark, but it is a film of images and for that it is hugely succesful. Could they have been exploited a little better? Impossible to say. Powell and Pressburger's near zero degree of direction style (save a few tricks in 'Hoffman', 'The Red Shoes', and this) is a style of filmaking that leaves one rather unfulfilled, wondering about the worth of the art as more than just a narrative. Rarely do they innovate on the mis-en-shot side, which leaves them open only to wonderful backdrops to choke off boredom and ennui. Luckily, at their best, they do this.
An excellent, beautiful film, which will stand up to rewatching (thanks to a stronger visual look than narrative approach) than most.