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 20^th 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.