Even when extremely well made, slasher films have never appealed to me. For example, when I watch Mario Bava's BLOOD AND BLACK LACE, I can respect the astonishing use of light, colour, and texture, but I cannot respect the use of human beings.
I respond in the same way to THE LEOPARD MAN, a small film that improves every time I see it, and one that confirms, again, that Jacques Tourneur was born to direct stalking scenes by night. The film offers one sequence in particular that must have shocked viewers in 1943, and that still kicks hard today. You know the sequence: every critic of the Lewton films raves about it, and for damned good reason.
Yet despite all of the cinematic skill that can go into such material, killings are not for me. What I do like about THE LEOPARD MAN is the sense of a small town in danger; I like the rapid ways in which the film sets out its characters in a place where they all know everyone else. At a running time of 66 minutes, the film packs in many people and many sub-plots without losing sight of its overall story.
Above all, what gives the story meaning is a sub-theme about the necessity for compassion. The two lead characters have lived through hard times, and reject any hint of being "softies," but that is exactly what they are, and in their empathy, their basic human goodness, they find the courage to confront evil. In that sense, THE LEOPARD MAN, for all of its emphasis on death and fear, is actually one of the more optimistic of the Lewton films: it shows that a community matters, and that strength comes from caring.
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