Although I've seen the newer 1997 version with Jeremy Irons and Dominique Swain three times now, I had yet to see the 1962 version of Lolita until very recently. This allowed me to put one more checkmark next to my viewing of Stanley Kubrick's filmography. In fact, the only ones I have left to watch now are the features he made prior to 1962. For me, seeing one of his movies for the first time is kind of like uncorking a vintage wine that has only improved with age. So if you'll pardon that analogy, Lolita definitely qualifies as another exceptional entry in my favourite director's repertoire.
The film may have been based on the sensual subject matter in Vladimir Nabokov's 1953 novel, but its success does not come from being deliberately controversial. Its real triumph comes from its exquisite composition, its aggressive performances from the leading actors, and its technical mastery. A lot of the risqué situations aren't depicted, but rather implied using quick cuts, sudden sound effects, or insinuating camera work. It makes the movie all the more accomplished and effective.
James Mason plays Humbert Humbert, a man who has been appointed to a lectureship at Beardsley College in Ohio. In the interim, he lodges at the summer house of Charlotte Haze (Shelley Winters) and her (supposedly) 12-year old daughter Lolita (Sue Lyon). Eventually, Humbert and Haze are married, although it becomes clear he can't stand his wife and her unpredictable moodswings. After a death in the family occurs, Humbert begins a relationship with the true object of his desires, Lolita and the two take to the road.
The film opens with a scene approximately ten minutes long, that essentially depicts the conclusion of the story, a confrontation between Humbert and the inebriated Quilty (Peter Sellers). It, among several others, features extended shots that really require the actors to be at top form. Mason is great as a possessive and jealous man who seems to fall into roles of weakness, including a couple of scenes where he must break down and cry in front of the women he cares about (naturally, they do not follow suit). Winters is at her manic best, bringing a desparate credibility to the role of Charlotte. Sellers effortlessly slips through several personas (a sign of things to come in the upcoming satire Dr. Strangelove), and, while she may look older than the part requires, Sue Lyon is nevertheless convincing as the young entrapper who learns to manipulate and conquer Humbert for her own needs.
As with so many of Stanley Kubrick's movies, Lolita is deceptively well-filmed. A New England house takes up a considerable amount of the expository sequences, but in hindsight, one can only assume the set must have been ripped apart to make room for uncanny tracking shots and the most fascinating of angles. Lolita would be one of Kubrick's last ventures into black and white filmmaking, but it remains the best in that particular category.
