Bunny Lake Is Missing (1965) – Review

When it comes to delivering truly unsettling, psychological thrillers, I feel that the general public isn’t giving certain decades their flowers. Oh sure, the 70s, 80s, 90s and beyond get numerous kudos for delivering truly twisted offerings which have been duly championed, but what of the decades prior to those; are we saying that just because of the lack of colour and more restrained tastes of the times, the 50s and 60s couldn’t rock your noggin if it tried? Obviously Alfred Hitchcock and Robert Aldrich might have a thing or two to say about that, but if you really want to dig out a movie that could really get under your skin, you could do a lot worse than seeking out Otto Preminger’s impressively deranged knuckle-gnawer, Bunny Lake Is Missing.
Dealing with the already thorny subject of a child abduction, this movie then piles on layer after layer of confusion until you literally don’t know what to think anymore. Prepare yourself to enter a movie that not only will turn two hours of your life completely topsy turvy, but has a few pointed things to say about the way the patriarchy treats the opposite sex.

American single mother Ann Lake has recently moved from New York to London and has just stopped off at the Little People’s Garden pre-school to drop off her daughter, Bunny for her first day. However, as she’s running a little late, and because one if the main teachers isn’t in that day, Ann can’t sign her daughter in properly and leaves her with the cook while she heads off about her day. However, when she returns she soon discovers that not only is Bunny apparently missing, but none of the overworked staff have even seen this little girl, let alone witnessed her leave or be taken from the building. Soon Ann’s protective brother, Steven, arrives on the scene to turn the heat up and while they search the nursery and question the staff, it soon becomes obvious that it’s time to call the constabulary to take over.
However, this is where things start to go from panic inducing to downright disturbing as the level-headed Superintendent Newhouse picks up on something rather strange – no one (and that includes us, mind you), has actually seen this little girl at all. Not in the flesh, not in a photo and even all of her belongings have mysteriously vanished when the police come looking wish seems to ask a rather unsettling counter question: does Bunny Lake even exist?
Rapidly growing more distressed at this turn of events, Ann refuses to accept this worrying new line of questioning, but while Steven angrily tries to defend his troubled sister, certain fact some to light. Not only does Steven claim that Ann once had an abortion, but during her childhood, she also had a little blonde girl as her imaginary friend – care to guess what her name was?
So what has actually happened? Has a little girl truly gone missing on the streets of London, or is something somehow far more sinister afoot?

Bunny Lake Is Missing is one of those films that I’d happily lose site clicks for, because if you haven’t seen it and you love reality warping, classic thrillers, then you really ought to ditch this review immediately and rectify your inadequacies post haste. Don’t look it up on Rotten Tomatoes or Letterboxd, don’t even read a synopsis or read any non-spoiler fan reviews on IMDb, just get your ass into gear and watch it while nestled on the sofa. You see, while the ads back in 1965 played the same trick as Psycho and stressed that no one would be admitted “once the clock starts ticking”, you really should do yourself a favour and go in as utterly blind as you can in order for the best results.
Of course, by “best results”, I mean you’ll experience both the tension and strain of a child gone missing plot that soon morphs into something way more complex and unpredictable that’ll have you guessing frantically this way and that until your head spins. In many ways, Otto Preminger’s masterpiece in confusion is decades ahead of its time the way it manipulates everyone (including us) with this ever changing mystery that, whenever you feel like you’re confident enough to blurt out your findings like a second-rate Benoit Blanc, the movie will flip on you, instantly dashing your hopes. The real kicker is not who perpetrated the crime and how, but eventually starts you debating about whether there was any crime committed at all and it does so, not by disguising it’s hand, but by allowing you to get murky glimpses of the truth that’s still virtually impossible to convincingly string together. You know Carol Lynley’s rapidly fracturing Ann has aspects in her past that immediately makes things a little suspicious, and you know that there’s something a little bit intense about Keir Dullea’s Steven, but you can’t quite put your finger on what’s going on with either.

Is everything legit and Bunny has legitimately been taken? Is Ann delusional but Steven is covering for her to hide something? Or is something else far more crazed occurring that’s throwing you off big time? Frankly, it’s an absolute blast not knowing and I recommend watching it with someone similarly unprepared for its mysteries simply because you’ll be whipping your heads around to stare at each other, agog, when each new revelation occurs.
Adding to the mental chaos is some side characters who throw things off even more thanks to their skill at delivering some prime examples of old-school, English eccentricity that both amuses and creeps you out in equal measure. Martita Hunt delightfully batty Ada, who lives in the upstairs rooms of the nursery and passes the time jotting down children’s nightmares for her book is majestic in how both funny and unsettling she is, but detonating any kind of subtlety is Noël Coward’s intrusive landlord who is revealed to not only be a colossal pervert, but also has a whip collection owned by the Maquis de Sade himself – but again, are they prime suspects, or only surreal red herrings to solidify that sense of unreality as we still try to work out if a crime has actually been committed?
In fact, it’s a bit of a relief whenever Laurence Olivier shows up as sensible copper, Newhouse, who has the unenviable task of sorting through this mess in order to get to the truth. However, as he slowly starts to believe that Bunny could be a figment of her “mother’s” imagination, some timely themes come forward concerning how easily women’s stories are dismissed that again shows that Preminger was way ahead of his time.

However, the man who once portrayed Mr. Freeze on the Batman TV show wouldn’t be doing his job right if he didn’t muddy those waters in literally every direction and as we edge ever closer to the truth, Preminger goes balls out with making the final third of the film trippy as Hell – throwing in doll hospitals, lecherous passers by, crazed angles and a truly unsettling final act that truly blows the roof of the entire matter. Of course, that’s all for you to discover yourselves – enjoy finding it.
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