Before discussing "Mine Own Executioner" I should explain something about the plot. Burgess Meredith's character, Felix, is called a psychiatrist in the film but he isn't one....he's a psychotherapist. Back in the mid-20th century, there wasn't a standardized degree to be a psychotherapist and many psychologists were NOT folks with PhDs, EdDs or PsyDs like today. In fact, if you could demonstrate your competence, you could even practice without any degree...yes, no degree at all. While this wasn't common, it was possible. In fact, one of the most famous developmental psychologists of the 20th century, Erik Erikson had no degree...but wrote tons of articles and taught at such prestigious schools as Harvard and Yale! So, in the USA, Felix might have been called a psychologist...and apparently in the UK someone like this might have been called a psychiatrist...even though they don't have a medical degree.

Felix is a very good therapist. However, conversely, he's not a particularly good husband and is distant from his wife. He even contemplates having an affair. In addition, while he's good at his job, he's filled with doubts. All this is thrown for a loop when Felix begins working with a very dangerous man. Adam is suffering from PTSD, as he went through hell in a POW camp during the war. But he also is showing signs of psychosis...and that could make him a dangerous person. What's next? See the film.

This is a very interesting film....especially since Felix is so good at helping people but is out of touch with himself. Interesting and well worth seeing...with a rather amazing final portion of the story.

MINE OWN EXECUTIONER is a psychological thriller released in Britain in 1947. Watching it today, it feels a lot like an early precursor to the wave of 'Vietnam vet' films that were being made in the 1970s. This one features a youthful Burgess Meredith playing a psychiatrist treating a disturbed war veteran and uses the narrative to explore the social milieu of the era. The film is very well photographed by the reliably great Freddie Francis and features an engaging supporting cast including Kieron Moore, John Laurie, and Christine Norden. It feels a little slow and staged at times, but it does build to a suitably dramatic climax.

An old lady has died and left her estate to a foundation that now runs it as a free psychiatric clinic. You ought to see the place. Square footage galore, marble floors, modern furniture for everyone, a circular wooden staircase, the original of Van Gogh's "Blue Irises" on the wall. (Well, not that last, but it's a classy place.) Burgess Meredith, as one of the psychotherapists who does pro bono work at the clinic when not listening to rich old ladies in his own practice, gives one of his finest performances.

We meet a few of his patients. One is an ex RAF pilot, Kieran Moore, who has grown sullen over the past two months and finally tried to choke his pretty young wife. He doesn't seem to remember the incident, or is unwilling to talk about it during his first five minutes of conversation with Meredith. When he leaves, Meredith records his diagnosis in his notebook: "Schizophrenia. Split Personality." I'm a shrink and that's all wrong, but this is a drama not a documentary on psychiatric diagnosis.

Meredith is full of insight. Happy most of the time yet he realizes that he snaps at his loving wife an bullies her. And he's also treating a mutual friend, a cute married blond, with some sort of unresolved "sex problems." Meredith is attracted to his new patient but acts within the bounds of middle-class propriety.

The focus of the film is not Meredith's relationship with the flirtatious blond, though. It has to do with his attempts to try working through the repressed memories of Kieron Moore's terrible experiences as a Japanese POW.

It's an intelligently written and responsible film, not an uplifting soap opera. There is tension and tragedy.

Recommended, for adults, anyway.