Noir-vember: Shockproof (1949)

I decided to finally make time for Shockproof because it was yet another noir with a credit on it for Samuel Fuller (he helped to co-write the screenplay with Helen Deutsch). I'll admit that when I saw it was directed by Douglas "King of the melodrama" Sirk I was wondering just what the end result would be. It turns out . . . this is exactly what you might think, considering the people behind the camera.

Cornel Wilde is a parole officer named Griff Marat, struggling to help a young woman, Jenny Marsh (Patricia Knight), stay on the straight and narrow. Jenny seems like she could benefit from a second chance, but that might be completely scuppered if she keeps meeting up with her bad influence of an ex, Harry Wesson (John Baragrey). Griff not only wants the best for Jenny, he may well end up falling in love with her. Which would make him much easier to manipulate if Jenny keeps wanting to plan a future with Harry.

Not the best example of noir, and certainly not the grittiest, this is a melodrama that makes use of some familiar tropes to liven things up on the way to a decidedly safe and comfortable finale. Despite the runtime only clocking in at 79 minutes, it's a bit of a slog at times, especially as the leads often engage in some circular conversations and arguments while figuring out just how much they can trust one another. 

The leads help though, and Knight is a particularly enjoyable potential femme fatale. She gets to have more fun, and gets to be very believable as someone who could steal the heart of a good man. Wilde has to be much more straight-laced, but he does well enough to avoid being completely overshadowed by the entertainingly dastardly Baragrey, who does such a good job that his shadow looms large over the proceedings even in the many scenes that don't have him onscreen. Esther Minciotti also does well as Mrs. Marat, the blind mother of Wilde's character, perhaps pivotal in helping Jenny to see that she doesn't have to keep making the same mistakes that haven't helped her improve her life so far.

Many may view this as being a bit too soft, considering the premise and the potential, but I thought it was nice to actually have some sweetness working against the usual bitterness. Sirk may not be the best person to helm this, but he's very capable when it comes to presenting a seemingly ill-fated romance complicated by circumstances and pressures. It's a shame that all of the sharp edges are removed, leaving the end result as one of the weaker films to feature major input from Fuller, but there's still fun to be had, particularly in a third act that turns up the heat before, sadly, turning it right down again just before the end credits.

6/10

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There's Always Tomorrow (1955)

Although the treatment of the material shows the restraint and sensitive handling dictated by the era in which it was made, this Douglas Sirk movie is yet another timeless classic that focuses on love and infatuation, and shows how these things can be damaged or nurtured, depending on the circumstances.

Fred MacMurray plays Clifford Groves, a toymaker who is blessed with a lovely wife (Joan Bennett) and children who seem to be turning into fine young adults. Clifford is content, and his family are in that happy space which leads to them taking a lot of their situation for granted. Things start to change when Clifford reconnects with a childhood friend, Norma Miller Vale (Barbara Stanwyck), and it looks like our leading man could be heading down a slippery slope towards temptation, and the ruination of his marriage.

I don't care who you are, or how consistently blissful you have been in the main relationship of your life, There's Always Tomorrow resonates just as much today as it must have when first released back in the mid-1950s.

Sirk directs with his usual capable touch, working from a screenplay by Bernard C. Schoenfeld (better known for TV fare that tends to focus on thrills and/or action), which was developed from a story by Ursula Parrot (previously made into a movie in 1934). Considering how effective the film is at showing how easily cracks can start to spread through a contented family household, I'd be interested to read the source material. There's no doubt that everyone involved does their part to sell the film but it's so full of little moments of truth that I have to assume the novel reads even better.

MacMurray is wonderful in a role that allows him to play a relatively average guy. He's not made out to be devastatingly handsome, nor is he shown to be any kind of ladies man. He's just quite a sweet, hard-working, man who takes umbrage at people casting aspersions on his friendship with a woman before starting to consider the other roads his life could take. Stanwyck is also very good, also not being sold as a beautiful seductress. Her appeal is based on her obvious affection for her friend, and a lifestyle that's a step or two removed from the everyday "humdrum" family life. William Reynolds and Gigi  Perreau play the older children who start to suspect the behaviour of their father, and Joan Bennett does a marvellous job in what could easily have been a thankless role. She's a loving, caring wife who just isn't always to schedule things in a way that gives her more time with her husband.

Unlike so many other films that have wandered through similar territory, there are no villains here, no easy moments for viewers to point to and really declare "aha, that is the cause". No, what you get here is a steady build up of sadness, perceived neglect, and a questioning of love: how much effort does it take, is chemistry any real alternative to a full life made together, and does finally considering loss make it easier to appreciate what you have? Things many of us go through at least once during a serious relationship.

8/10

This is NOT in this lovely set. But buy that set anyway.
Americans may wish to try out this disc, but there's a better UK version available here.

Written On The Wind (1956)

Another Douglas Sirk movie must mean another selection of simmering tensions and moments of heated drama, and that's exactly what you get with Written On The Wind.

The plot sees Rock Hudson and Robert Stack playing two good friends, Mitch and Kyle. Mitch is a decent and dependable guy, Robert . . . not so much. But Robert has the money, and has been used to passing blame along to his friend as he has encountered various problems over the years. Both men find themselves smitten with a young woman named Lucy (Lauren Bacall), and things really start to become problematic when she opts to marry Robert. Meanwhile, Robert's sister (Marylee, played by Dorothy Malone) despairs as she finds herself constantly spurned by Mitch.

First of all, Written On The Wind is a very good film. I have now seen about half a dozen Douglas Sirk movies and not had a bad experience yet. This ticks a lot of the same boxes as both Magnificent Obsession and All That Heaven Allows. Yet it doesn't QUITE work as well as those films, mainly because it feels a bit more forced in the way that all of the characters are moved into place.

The script by George Zuckerman is fine, particularly when it comes to highlighting the damaging behaviours of some of the main characters while staying on just the right side of tastefulness (obviously essential for the box office prospects when it was first released). With a bit of harsh editing and streamlining it would be easy to imagine this as a very simple chamber piece but Zuckerman, and Sirk, try to open things up a bit to take in more of the local environment, and also the past lives of all involved.

I have to say that, until very recently, I was as unfamiliar with Hudson as I was with Sirk. Whether he was always such a dependable lead or whether Sirk brought out the best in him, he delivers yet another winning performance. Stack gets to deliver more histrionics than anyone else in the cast, which he does well, although it can be very hard to keep a straight face if you know him best (as I do) from his superb comedic turn in Airplane! Malone is both sweet and potentially dangerous, in a way that is obvious in almost every scene she has. The only weak link is Bacall, who doesn't do a bad job but just never really feels like the desirable, amazing, woman that she is obviously supposed to be, at least in the eyes of her male co-stars.

It's well-paced, with a portentous atmosphere throughout that makes the whole thing feel as if thunderstorm clouds are literally gathering over the heads of the leads, and fans of Sirk won't be disappointed. It just doesn't rank up there with his best, but that's more a comment on the consistent greatness of his filmography than any condemnation of this work.

8/10

This is, once again, an easy choice for shoppers.

All That Heaven Allows (1955)

Utilising a lot of the same cast members and the same essence of pure melodrama as Magnificent Obsession, from the previous year, Douglas Sirk delivers yet another wonderful tale of love, pain, and social etiquette with All That Heaven Allows.

Jane Wyman plays Cary Scott, a widow, who ends up falling in love with Ron Kirby (Rock Hudson), a gardener who doesn't seem to care about the same things as everyone else does. After a tentative start, both prepare to present themselves to Cary's adult children and her upper-class friends. Her children are immediately resentful, worrying about the loss of their family home and how their mother will be viewed. As for Cary's "friends", very few seem pleased with her choice.

Based upon a story by Edna L. Lee and Harry Lee, Peg Fenwick has crafted a script that easily sells the love between the two leads before starting to pile up the obstacles, and does so with a constant feeling of melancholy as opposed to misery, although that comes through more in the third act, thanks to the more pointed moments. Whatever is happening, be it happier times or despair, it all feels earned, thanks to the script and performances.

Hudson and Wyman are wonderful, and very easy to root for, and there are solid supporting turns from Agnes Moorehead, Conrad Nagel, Gloria Talbott and William Reynolds (as the daughter and son, respectively, of Cary), and Jacqueline deWit, particularly enjoyable as the nosiest and most gossipy member of the local community.

But this is a Sirk film before anything else, aided by gorgeous cinematography from Russell Metty and some more lovely music from Frank Skinner. It allows him to do what he does best, painting his tale with a gorgeous selection of colours and never once worrying about taking things too far in his attempts to wring every ounce of emotion or drama from a scene.

Much like his other films, viewers can easily decide to close themselves off to the pleasures of All That Heaven Allows. The cynical can see the strings being pulled, the film fan will already know how things are going to play out, and there's at least one too many convenient plot points. But to deny yourself the sheer pleasure of a Sirk melodrama is to deny the beauty and vibrancy that he gives to what should really be TV movie fare. And that is your loss.

9/10

This is another one available in this lovely set.
Americans have that Criterion edition available.

Magnificent Obsession (1954)

To my knowledge, this is only the second Douglas Sirk film that I have seen, and my first was just last week (All I Desire - wonderful stuff). But it's possibly the film that he is best known for, even if it's only being described by people who keep forgetting what the actual title is.

And here's the description for you. Rock Hudson plays Bob Merrick, a selfish, rich playboy who has his life saved by an unselfish doctor. The doctor dies, which leads to Bob trying to assuage his guilty conscience by offering to pay a large amount to his widow, Helen (Jane Wyman). That's not the way to make amends, of course, and things only go from bad to worse. Bob cannot figure out just how he is supposed to lead a better life, Helen is blinded in an accident, and . . . . well, I won't detail the rest of the plot, despite it being so well known to so many people. Suffice to say, it's absolutely preposterous stuff from start to finish.

It's also quite wonderful. I don't know why this worked for me as well as it did, but it REALLY did. All I can suggest is that perhaps the earnest nature of the performers in every scene made it all so much easier to swallow, coupled with the fact that I wanted to go along on this journey of romance and melodrama.

Based on a novel by Lloyd C. Douglas, the script is mainly credited to Robert Blees and Wells Root, and both of them move the narrative forward with great gusto, helped immensely by the obvious charms of Hudson and Wyman, both irresistible screen presences (yes, even when the former is being a selfish asshat during the earlier scenes). And Hudson and Wyman are in turn helped by a supporting cast that includes Barbara Rush, Agnes Moorehead, Otto Kruger, and more.

Sirk looks after everything with a steady hand, often livening up some of the quieter scenes with his usual eye for beautiful, vibrant colours and working well with the script to carry viewers more gently from one step to the next as the more ridiculous plot elements start to fall into place.

It will be all too easy for viewers to go into this and just hate-watch the whole thing from start to finish. If the content puts you off, you probably won't even appreciate the lovely imagery that crops up, the music, the performances, and all of the other technical expertise on display. I implore you to just give in to the magic of it all. You could end up loving it as much as me.

9/10

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