Here’s a Blu-ray reissue from Powerhouse of John Huston’s 1962 film Freud, a biopic of the famous psychologist. I’m reviewing a promo disc of the release, so I haven’t got the full package in front of me, which includes a 40-page booklet, however, as the satisfied owner of several splendid Powerhouse releases I’m completely confident as the the full product’s quality.

I will confess to knowing the bare minimum about Sigmund Freud, so I can’t comment on the accuracy of the film in a biographical sense, but as a brief synopsis, the film charts Freud’s journey from a young medical student onwards: the film begins with Freud falling out with his professor who mocks his unorthodox ideas, leading Freud to seek out Dr. Jean-Marin Charcot who is researching the psychological causes of hysteria; Freud returns to Vienna and presents his revitalised theories to his peers who again mock him, except for Dr. Josef Breuer who salutes Freud’s work, and the duo become research partners, with Breuer sending all his hysteria patients Freud’s way; the rest of the film narrates Freud’s treatments and research, and his own mental difficulties.

Freud looks beautiful, in a very clean restoration; with its black and white tones, late 19th century interiors, and even shots of a striking Jewish cemetery, it has an atmosphere that approaches the Gothic. The sense of the fantastic and emotional instability or disturbance that are often associated with the Gothic are reflected not only in the performance of Montgomery Clift, who plays Freud as a rather intense, staring man, but also in the film’s arresting dream sequences, representing trips (a word I use deliberately) into the subconscious. These passages are wild, surreal, and vivid - aided by their contrast with the stiff, formal, societal tone of the rest of the film. Sonically, these sequences are also highlights, with electronic soundtracks by Henk Badings featuring synth babble, wonky drones, and clattering reverbs; the broader soundtrack, by Jerry Goldsmith, is also accomplished.

So, on a technical level Freud is superb, but, despite the clear attempts to make the biopic exciting, even thriller-esque (the film opens and closes with an ominous spoken monologue) I found Freud a tad dry and hard-going. It’s perhaps slightly, and rightly, hardboiled, with rigorous discussion of psychology between characters; I feel that you’d have to have a bit invested in Sigmund Freud already to get the most from the film.

In terms of extras, there’s a lengthy 1982 audio interview with Susannah Yorke who played one of Freud’s patients, Cecily Koertner, as well as audio interviews with Huston and Clift - where Huston describes the gigantic original script written by Jean Paul Sartre, no less. There’s also a half-hour documentary on Freud, Conflict and Trauma, detailing the film’s origins, development and filming; presented by Matthew Sweet, it fascinatingly contextualises the film, even exploring some of the psychological aspects of the lives of the actors and crew; for example, Marilyn Monroe was approached for the Cecily Koertner role, but turned it down as her psychiatrist was a personal friend of Freud’s daughter, who disapproved of the film. The documentary also locates Freudian themes in the film and production itself, such as the bizarrely tortuous treatment of Clift by Huston. The disc is complimented by Let There Be Light, a 1946 John Huston documentary depicting US troops returning from World War II and dealing with post-traumatic stress disorder; originally planned to educate the public, the US Army was so shocked by the rawness and strength of the documentary that it was suppressed until the 1980s. It’s a fitting, and compelling, inclusion.

By all accounts, Freud is a great film, but one where my attention wavered at times; however, certainly anyone with an interest in Freud or psychology would find this engaging. Conflict and Trauma and Let There Be Light are both fascinating as well, with the behind-the-scenes insights of the former genuinely enriching the viewing of Freud.