Saturday, April 06, 2024

James Mason and Barbara Rush Dazzle in Nicholas Ray's Stunning Bigger Than Life

The recent passing of Barbara Rush brought to mind possibly the best work among this intelligent, skillful performer’s impressive filmography, Nicholas Ray’s stark 1956 melodrama, Bigger Than Life. Possibly the most unusual story to gain a 20th Century Fox Cinemascope release in Deluxe color, the movie takes an idyllic suburban setting and turns it completely awry, with some scenes going about as far as the invasive Production Code would allow. Concerning the consequences which arise after a mild-mannered schoolteacher, Ed Avery, becomes hooked on his cortisone prescription, resulting in severe delusions of grandeur as Ed spirals out of control after abusing his dosage, much to the chagrin of his loving but understandably unnerved wife and young son, the film’s intensity rises in parallel to Ed’s psychotic state, leading to one of the most shocking and unforgettable climaxes found in a 1950’s film. Following his major success in the previous year’s Rebel Without a Cause, director Ray again illustrates his knack for exposing the extreme turmoil existing under Small Town America’s serene facade, aided by a concise, engrossing screenplay by Cyril Hume and Richard Maibaum (based on the article “Ten Feet Tall” by Berton Roueche) and astounding cinematography by Joseph MacDonald, which expertly lends a strong film noir element, with the imagery becoming darker and more unbalanced to match the story as the film moves into very unsettling territory. Intense, complex work by Mason and Rush also adds much in drawing in a viewer throughout the film, helping to make Bigger one of the most riveting cinematic experiences of its era.

James Mason, who also produced, is clearly fully invested in his role, pulling no punches in depicting Ed’s transition from a sympathetic teacher, spouse and father into an arrogant and ultimately dangerous figure for his family, students, friends or anyone to be around. Mason was at a career highpoint by 1956, after his fantastic 1954 output, wherein he offered definitive performances as a Captain Nemo and Norman Maine for the ages in 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea and his Oscar-nominated work in A Star is Born, respectively, and it’s admirable he would take on such a harsh character as a follow-up. Mason, showing no trace of likeability as Ed becomes more removed from reality, is fearless in showing the scary, controlling behavior that guides Ed’s increasingly nefarious actions. Although drug addiction was addressed the previous year in The Man with the Golden Arm, the protagonist in that film existed in a seedy environment; to see a family man with a respectable career and lovely home go to seed so quickly due to drugs is very disturbing, and Mason uses all of his substantial dramatic gifts to convey each aspect of Ed’s unravelling with precision and power.

For Barbara Rush, Bigger would give her an opportunity to demonstrate the full range of her dramatic gifts. Starting in films in 1950 after being discovered at the Pasadena Playhouse, Rush quickly established herself as a young player of note, with appearances in the Sci-Fi classics When Worlds Collide and It Came from Outer Space leading to a big 1954 hit, Douglas Sirk’s Magnificent Obsession, wherein Rush’s adeptness for adding tough, mature nuances to a character- she gave these parts a strength rarely found in charming ingenue roles. With Bigger, from the outset Rush indicates an unsettled nature lives within Lou, Ed’s appealing, practical housewife, as Ed first deals with blackouts that lead to his diagnoses wherein cortisone is prescribed as a possible cure. Lou is at the center of the action as Ed becomes more unreasonable and dictatorial towards Lou and their son, Richie, and Rush does a terrific job in showing Lou’s contrasting emotions, as she attempts to handle Ed’s aggressiveness while also trying to protect Richie from Ed’s wrath. For example, there’s a scene wherein Ed is leaving home to be further analyzed, and a close-up shows Rush first showing horror as she realizes how serious the nature of Ed’s illness is, then quickly turning to give a smile to Richie, to ensure him everything is fine.

Rush matches Mason in remaining incredibly focused during difficult scenes that test their dramatic capabilities to the limit, leading to that sensational final confrontation wherein Mason and Rush offer prodigious work that is nothing short of breathtaking, with Rush doing a masterful job in showing Lou’s terror as she simultaneously attempts to uphold a reasonable demeanor while trying to defuse her husband’s out-of-control conduct. In a year for dismayed cinematic housewives miles away from the June Allyson prototype of the era (Nancy Kelly in The Bad Seed and Jennifer Jones in The Man in the Gray Flannel Suit also come to mind), Rush unerringly offers a highly individual, edgy, emotionally-driven take on this intriguing type of character. Although she would continue to offer excellent work of class and distinction in top-tier films, such as The Young Lions, Strangers When We Meet and The Young Philadelphians, it’s possible Rush never again had a role of such depth and complexity as Lou, and her magnificent work in Bigger memorably serves as an apt example of Rush’s exceptional worth as a screen performer of skill and merit.    

As Richie, Christopher Olsen does earnest work, gaining audience sympathy in several scenes wherein Richie becomes the target for his unhinged father’s torment. Olsen, who started in films just out of infancy and had already had several impressive films to his credit (The Bad and the Beautiful and The Long, Long Trailer among them) was at his career peak in 1956, with a prominent role as another put-upon child in Alfred Hitchcock’s The Man Who Knew to Much also gaining him attention, to be followed by Sirk’s The Tarnished Angels, before his career ebbed quickly at the end of the decade. In contract, Walter Matthau was at the outset of his career, with Bigger marking his third film after his debut in 1955’s The Kentuckian; as Wally Gibbs, Mason’s kind, understanding colleague, it’s interesting to see Matthau perform without a hint of the acerbic nature that would be a component of many of his starring roles. In the other primary supporting role, Robert F. Smith is understated as Dr. Norton, who a viewer wishes were around a lot more as Ed goes manic. Also, look close for a cameo appearance early on from Jerry Mathers, just before his career-defining success on television as “the Beav.”

The jarring aspects of Bigger’s unorthodox plotline assured 1956 audiences and critics, unsure of what to make of the movie's bold proceedings, offered this quality-but-daring film a tepid reception. However, over the decades Bigger’s status has risen phenomenally, with many now citing the movie as one of the 1950’s best and a career highlight for Mason, Rush and Ray, with all three artists contributing indelible, extraordinary work in crafting a seminal cinematic classic. Viewers interested in discovering how vividly adult themes could be presented under the restrictive Production Code via great, inventive direction and spectacular, committed lead performances infused with dramatic depth and clarity cannot go wrong checking out the spellbinding, imposing Bigger Than Life.

I once had the good fortune of seeing Barbara Rush in person after a showing of The Young Philadelphians at the Aero Theater in Santa Monica. After the showing, Ms. Rush conducted an interview with the audience until the interviewer showed up, as the print of the film had been cut and therefore the movie ended early, while the interviewer was still at dinner thinking he had a half-hour or so to go. I was able to briefly address this night directly to Ms. Rush later at a screening of It Came from Outer Space, and she was as gregarious and upbeat to me as she had been while interacting with the audience in an impromptu fashion at the Philadelphians event, which I filmed and can be viewed here on YouTube. Rest in Peace to the lovely and talented Barbara Rush.  

Monday, April 01, 2024

Douglas Sirk Guides a Top Cast Through a Florid, Moving Imitation of Life

           Providing one of the most involving viewing experiences in the realm of classic melodramas, 1959’s Imitation of Life allows audiences to be swept up in an overpowering blend of romance, conflict, tragedy, and patented glossy Ross Hunter production values for a richly satisfying watch. A remake of Universal’s 1934 success (based on the 1933 bestselling novel by Fannie Hurst) starring Claudette Colbert and Louise Beavers, the film details the lives of two women, Lora Meridith and Annie Johnson, as Lora attempts to make her name on Broadway and both women deal with issues while raising their daughters, Susie and Sarah Jane. Specifically in the storyline of Annie and Sarah Jane, who is a light-skinned African-American trying to escape her origins and her loving mother in order to pass as white, the film reaches moments of dramatic intensity that has been jerking abundant tears from spellbound audiences for decades. Although the term “unforgettable” gets tossed around a lot when describing a great movie, with Life it’s virtually impossible to shake off how incredibly moving the movie is, as scenes and performances stay with one years after a viewing.

Fortunately for the production of Life, Universal had possibly the greatest director of melodramas ever among the studio’s list of major talents. Douglas Sirk had been responsible for crafting some of the studio’s best and biggest (in box-office terms) output during the 1950’s, such as Maginficent Obsession, Written on the Wind and The Tarnished Angels, and would finish his career on top with Life, wherein his uncanny ability to mesh florid and humane dramatic elements in a riveting cinematic manner were in full force. From the opening sequence, wherein commanding score shifts to a more serene tone as Earl Grant sings the lush title song as diamonds are seen falling from above to fill the screen, Sirk is in full control, guaranteeing Life will run the gamut from romantic escapism to harrowing, gut-wrenching tension.

                Lana Turner was at a career crossroads at the time of Life’s production. A recent Oscar nominee via 1957’s Peyton Place, Turner was just coming out of possibly Hollywood’s most sensational scandal, wherein lover Johnny Stompanato was killed at the hands of her protective daughter, Cheryl Crane. Life would provide an important boost to her career, while also proving audiences bore no ill-will towards her. Although many view Turner as a subpar performer, she is perfectly cast in Life and serves as star and actor beautifully. Lora is often strident and superficial in her professional and personal interactions as she works to become established on the stage, and the great lady airs Turner adopted to an extent after being groomed at MGM for stardom aptly fit the role. She also has no trouble with the glamour component, which is necessary in that Lora much be seen as a hot prospect for Broadway, despite (as mentioned in the film) being no ingenue.

                However, the most important aspect Turner brings to the film has to do with her incredible skill in diving deep in her emotional scenes. Although she could sometimes appear fascial in her playing, whenever Turner was called to emote in a heavily dramatic moment, she delivered as few other stars could, such as in the awesome hysterics she brought to her famous breakdown in an out-of-control-car in The Bad and the Beautiful. Turner has some forceful confrontational scenes throughout the film she handles with strength and class, before having to delve even deeper playing key scenes at the film’s climax. Turner wrote in her autobiography all the trauma she had faced leading up to Life’s filming burst forth onscreen during these moments, and Turner does indeed offer some spectacular emoting, which serves to emphasize the strong bond between Lora and Annie, and how dependent Lora has been on Annie in keeping a family dynamic going while Lora has been focused on her career.

                For Susan Kohner, Life represented a major career milestone. The daughter of Hollywood producer Paul Kohner and renown actress Lupita Tovar, most famous for starring in the Spanish-language version of Dracula and outliving almost all of contemporaries, passing away in 2016 at age 106, Kohner made a strong debut in 1955’s Audie Murphy hit To Hell and Back, then went on to costar with Sal Mineo in 1957’s Dino. As Sarah Jane, Kohner finds astonishing depths of emotion to help clearly illustrate how torn the young woman is between loyalty to her mother and the need to find a better life than 1950’s society, still largely upholding many racist attitudes, would allow her. Kohner expertly details the anger and determination driving Sarah Jane to pass as white, while also illustrating the sensitive nature that bonds her to the devoted Annie. Kohner and Moore work together beautifully in their scenes, creating some phenomenally moving moments as the guilt and conflict Sarah Jane faces in rejecting her mother, and the heartbreak Annie feels therein, is powerfully conveyed. Kohner also has to largely carry one of the most shattering final scenes in a movie, and she pulls it off with aplomb, ensuring any audience watching Life will never forget the incredible dramatic talent Kohner displays in her signature role. Following her success in Life, Kohner would go on to make a few more screen appearances, including a reunion with Mineo in the enjoyable Gene Krupa Story and nice work opposite Montgomery Clift in her final film, John Huston’s intriguing Freud, before retiring from acting for a new role as wife and mother, marrying John Weitz in 1964, a union that produced another generation of Hollywood players in sons Chris and Paul Weitz, who achieved fame producing and directing American Pie, among others, and also allegedly never let their mom live down the scene in Life wherein Sarah Jane gyrates her way through “Empty Arms” at a seedy dive, mockingly mimicking Susan’s racy moves around the house during their formative years.

In 1959 Sandra Dee was in the midst of one of the greatest years ever for an ingenue, with her breakthrough season also including her signature role as Gidget and excellent work in another key melodrama of the era, A Summer Place. Starting her career impressively with nice work (including an accent) in 1957’s Until They Sail, Dee ascended quickly as a kind of junior-league Doris Day for the teen set. Universal normally cast her in lighter fare, especially after she obtained status among the top-ten box office stars in the early 1960’s and married teen idol Bobby Darin, and Dee’s aptitude, given the right opportunities, as a talented young dramatic performer onscreen was seldom acknowledged. However, in her banner year Dee offers impressive emoting in all three films, providing the blueprint for an ideal Gidget with focused, sincere and beguiling work, and tackling starker dramatic fare in A Summer Place as Molly, a young girl attempting to handle a burgeoning romance, while her tyrannical mother (Constance Ford, relishing the sinister aspects of her role) does everything she can to destroy Molly and any love that comes her way (she slaps Molly into a Christmas tree in a GIF-able moment). In her big Life confrontation scene, wherein a broken-hearted Susie, who has fallen in love with her mother’s intended, angrily tells off Lora for what Susie conceives to be neglect, before breaking down regarding the love triangle Susie somehow was aware of, Dee shows a maturity and understanding for her character’s plight that allows one to believe her every action, and the idea Susie could abruptly righten herself and move on, with college serving as an escape from her at-home troubles. Dee’s 1960’s heyday included hits such as Come September (wherein she met Darin) and stepping in for Debbie Reynolds via couple of Tammy sequels, but she seldom had a chance to prove her dramatic worth again. Fortunately, her deft work during her banner 1959 lingers in memory, with her appearance in Life assuring Dee has at least one classic film to ensure her appealing presence and dramatic gifts will endure for future audiences to discover.

Juanita Moore had toiled away in uncredited bit parts for 20 years (including such high-profile productions as Cabin in the Sky, Pinky and The Girl Can’t Help It) before finally gaining her career-defining role as the warmhearted, wise, understanding Annie. Clearly comprehending this was the role of a lifetime, Moore fully invests her considerable acting skill to convey Annie’s kindness and strength as she and Lora make their way in life, while avoiding adding overt sentimentality or coyness that would make the role unbelievable. Although Moore would have trouble building on her success in Life due to limited opportunities as she altered appears between film and television, the potent sincerity and heartbreak she brings to her scenes with Kohner and, near the end of the film, in a key moment with Turner, allow her a definite place among the most moving, indelible performances of her era. Fortunately, living to the ripe age of 99 before passing in 2014 also allowed Moore to witness first-hand how strongly Life would resonate with the public over time, as avid appreciation from newer audiences discovering Life and Moore’s excellent work therein made the movie’s lasting impact evident, with Moore and Kohner appearing together at showings of the film to adoring, enthusiastic receptions.

Although the nature of the story maintains focus on the female performers, several male players make a nice impression. For John Gavin, Life launched him into the forefront of Hollywood’s handsome, stoic leading men, in the mode of Sirk and Universal’s top star, Rock Hudson. Although Gavin’s thespian skills were still in development, his earnestness is appealing, and he’s so otherworldly gorgeous it’s hard to keep one’s eyes off his remarkable visage. Life would begin a great brief run for Gavin, as he added Psycho, Spartacus (wherein he seems especially confident among a heavyweight cast) and Midnight Lace to his credits in short order, before reuniting with Dee for Romanoff and Juliet and Tammy Tell Me True. He stayed staunch throughout most of his work and limited his output after another plush Ross Hunter melo, 1961’s Back Street, but had a nice chance to parody his leading-man rigidness with verve in 1967’s Thoroughly Modern Millie, before transitioning into politics in his later years.

Dan O’Herlihy is urbane and confident as David Edwards, the playwright who gives Lora her big break; he also gets a great line when Lora expresses her desire to do a new play with a serious role after years of thriving in a string of Edward’s drawing-room comedies. Taken aback, David/O’Herlihy bemoans, “But it’s drama- no clothes, no sex, no fun.” Robert Alda brings some entertaining sleaze to his role as Allen Loomis, the suave, self-serving agent who first tries to use Lora, but then comes through for her after she rebuffs his advances (watching the film, my mother once stated, “She has so much class”). Mahalia Jackson, brilliantly singing “Trouble of the World” in overwhelming fashion at the film’s end, also makes a major impact. Troy Donahue also shows up, just prior to gaining stardom opposite Dee in A Summer Place, and making one of his strongest impressions in his one scene as Johnny, Sarah Jane’s calm-yet-seething-under-the-surface, racist boyfriend. Sandra Gould and Jack Weston can also be spotted briefly in early-career bits, with Gould adeptly bringing a touch of humor to the proceedings as the secretary who helps Lora gain her first break.

                A phenomenal hit upon its release, Life gained 6.4 million in film rentals (according to Variety), placing the movie in 1959’s top five box-office hits and gaining a spot among Universal’s biggest hits ever (Turner years later stated her cut of the profits from Life kept her financially solvent for life). Variety provided a rave for Turner, with Kohner and Moore also singled out for praise among critics, leading Kohner to a win at the Golden Globe and both her and Moore aptly nominated for Best Supporting Actress at the Globes and Oscars, and Sirk was cited as a nominee by the Director’s Guild for his career swansong. The film’s reputation and popularity have only increased in subsequent years, with Life scoring a 2015 entry into the Library of Congress’s esteemed National Film Registry and many cinephiles rating the movie at the top of Sirk’s cannon. Releases on VHS, DVD and Blu-Ray have allowed the film to reach new generations of fans, whose tear ducts avidly response to Sirk’s masterful handling of the  stark, unforgettable material and astounding, moving work of the principal players, just as filmgoers who first encountered Life’s memorable, rich blend of luxuriant production values, romantic intrigue and arresting pathos and found themselves impacted in a similarly overwhelming manner in 1959.

                And a fond farewell to Barbara Rush, who just passed at 97. Discovered at the Pasadena Playhouse after graduating from the University of California, Santa Barbara in 1948, Rush assured herself a place in film history early on, with appearances in the sci-fi classics When Worlds Collide and 1953’s It Came from Outer Space. Rush would then become one of the most adept and classy leading ladies of the 1950’s and 1960’s, appearing alongside the likes of Rock Hudson, Paul Newman, James Mason and Frank Sinatra, before moving into television and stage work. I once saw Ms. Rush at the Aero Theater and taped her 2010 interview there after a showing of 1959’s The Young Philadelphians, wherein she costarred with Newman. Ms. Rush, looking and sounding terrific, had to start the interview solo, as the print of the film shown had been cut, and the interviewer thought he still had about twenty minutes or so to finish his dinner (you can check out the interview here- it’s with a Flip hand-held camera, so it’s not pro a job, but it’s there). She handled the situation with charm and professionalism, which I was able to tell her directly later at a showing of It Came. Always an asset to any project she appeared in, the skill, talent and beauty of Barbara Rush will be missed.