Holy SHIT. I just watched Don't Bother to Knock (1952). In case you didn't catch that, 1952. And DAMN. That movie was messed up. It was based on a book, Mischief, by Charlotte Armstrong (1950), which is obvious. Anything with this kind of characterization is either based on a play or book. And holy balls was it incredible.
Monroe plays a woman who's helping out her uncle--a longtime employee of a hotel, an elevator man--by babysitting. Well, she's disturbed. And then she meets a man from across the courtyard who's having lady-issues. Yeah, his lady-issues kinda EVAPORATE when he meets Monroe and gets a glimpse into her world. The end had just a tad of cheese I coulda done without, but all the in-between more than made up for it.
Even better, this was 1952, before Marilyn Monroe was considered a "sex symbol," so she's not doing that airy vampy annoying BS she ususally does. She was actually acting.
It was fucked up and disturbing. I liked it a lot.
This was a fantastic film for acting--it started out slow (an early film for Anne Bancroft, too--her first, infact--she's in the beginning and the end) and then it just went crazy. I guess I can be a little naive with what I expect from older films, so when things started to get a little dark, well, I just had no idea what might happen. This would be really incredible onstage and everyone involved did a remarkable job making it an incredible movie.
I recommend this, totally.