Reeling Backward: A Place in the Sun (1951)
The tragic romance/drama starring Montgomery Clift, Elizabeth Taylor and Shelley Winters is more interesting for the implications just below the surface of a rather standard-issue plot.
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"A Place in the Sun" was a sensation when it came out in 1951, though its place among the cinematic greats has faded considerably. This, despite the fact it won the first Golden Globe for best picture. And it took six Oscars including director, screenplay, cinematography, editing and musical score, beating out "A Streetcar Named Desire" in all five categories.
I think most modern observers would call those prizes sorely misplaced.
It stars a powerhouse cast of Montgomery Clift, Elizabeth Taylor and Shelley Winters in a tragic love triangle based on Hoosier author Theodore Dreiser's book, "An American Tragedy" (unread by me), later turned into a play and then this movie, script by Michael Wilson and Harry Brown. Clift plays the poor nephew of a women's clothing magnate who is invited into a world of privilege, falls for a wealthy socialite but is conflicted after impregnating a female coworker.
There is very much a "The Great Gatsby" feel to the story, and the indeed this novel came out a few months after F. Scott Fitzgerald's in 1925. Though the film is set in contemporaneous times instead of the Roaring Twenties, much is made about the contrast between the wealthy and the poor, the perceived nobility of the privileged and the venality of the common folk.
Overall the rich are portrayed rather favorably here, showing no distinct flaws other than a self-involved focus on their own escapades. The depiction in the movie is aspirational -- wouldn't you like to join in the fun? -- rather than cautionary tale.
George Eastman very much wants to move from one world into the next, and is hardworking, decent, ambitious yet humble. Yet he winds up committing some pretty unspeakable acts, crimes of omission if not overt deed, and only in the end recognizes the errors of his ways. Directed by the great George Stevens, there is very much the work of parable at play here, in particular that of Icarus flying too close to the sun.
I wonder if Dreiser intended the title as a subtle double entendre.
The film was quite controversial at the time with its rather frank inclusion of premarital sex and pregnancy, the seeking of an abortion and death of a young woman at George's hands. Several tweaks had to be made to pass the Hays Code.
This is one of those rare films where the subtext is more interesting than what is a fairly standard-issue plot. On paper, the narrative is rather straightforward, almost simplistic.
George, the son of poor street missionaries in Kansas City, is working as a bellhop in Chicago when he runs into his rich uncle, Charles Eastman (Herbert Heyes), and his promised a job if he makes it out Charles' way. Hitchhiking cross-country, George is given a menial position stacking boxes of ladies' bathing suits as they come off the factory conveyor line, warned not to associate with the predominantly female workforce. After months of drudgery and loneliness, George begins an affair with Alice Tripp (Winters), a humble farmer's daughter.
Things quickly look up for George as he is promoted by Charles and invited to their posh parties. Here is re-acquainted with Angela Vickers (Taylor), a family friend he had been smitten with upon arriving in town, though she did not notice him. Now that he is "an Eastman," Angela quickly falls for him and they enjoy a summer of sun-dappled fun, swimming and boating and much smooching.
But Alice has become pregnant, and after unsuccessfully seeking to terminate it and enraged upon seeing George in the society newspapers partying it up with Angela, insists that he marry her. She even threatens to go to the papers and tell the world about their predicament, surely ruining George's prospects. Finding the justice of the peace office closed on Labor Day, George begins hatching a scheme to drown Alice in Loon Lake, knowing she cannot swim. This had been his secret getaway spot with Angela.
In the end, George loses his nerve and cannot go through with the murder. But a distraught Alice, moments after accusing him of wishing her dead, accidentally capsizes the boat and the result is much the same. Having failed to save her, George swims to shore and makes his way back to Angela, their marriage seemingly assured. But the police catch up to him -- George is no master criminal, leaving a slew of witnesses in his wake -- and in a sensational trial he is convicted and sentenced to the electric chair.
The film is paced rather languidly, and much of the focus is on the passionate affair between George and Angela. Taylor shows off her lithe figure quite a lot in swimsuits and corseted gowns. If you check out the posters and marketing materials for "A Place in the Sun," it's all beautiful portraits of Clift and Taylor, with poor Winters nowhere to be found.
Clift earned an Oscar nod for his performance, and he has a number of Method-y moments of torment and vulnerability you usually didn't see from films of that era. In a lot of ways, Clift paved the way for James Dean and his style of acting, playing well-meaning but flawed man-boys. Winters also got a nomination, her portrayal of Alice a mix of shy humility and working-lass obstinacy.
She's willing to pay for her mistakes, and means to make George do so, too.
Raymond Burr turns up in the last act as the gung-ho district attorney prosecuting the case, who seems to make it a personal vendetta against George. At one point the boat he was in with Alice is brought into the courtroom for a demonstration, and Burr smashes the oar into the gunwale, splintering it, accusing him of deliberately crushing the girl's skull.
The central dilemma of the film is not just George's guilt or innocence, but the moral journey he undertakes. He starts on a noble climb, leveraging his family connections but through dint of hard work and dedication. Really, if he hadn't fallen in with Alice his road to the executive suite and a life of happiness with Angela was pretty much assured.
But in using Alice for his carnal urges, George begins to see himself as entitled. If he hadn't finally been noticed by Angela, I wonder if he would have been satisfied with marrying Alice, raising their child without wealth. My guess is no. In talking to Angela's father about their marriage prospects, George admits he left home at age 13 because he hated being so poor and wanted to make something of himself.
Was George responsible for Alice's death? I discussed this with my wife after watching the movie, as she has read the novel, and she was certain that he was. From a pure jurisprudence standpoint, the answer would seem to be no -- her fall into the lake was an accident. But then the question is how hard George tried to save her, which the movie does not depict. In his testimony he says they were both stunned by the capsizing boat, and by the time he swam around to her side she had gone under.
Shades of Ted Kennedy in this tale...
Interestingly, George admits on the witness stand that he had thought about killing Alice, which seems a strange thing for his attorneys to permit him to say. I think George could easily have gotten away with the crime if he had just reported it immediately, and no one would have cause to argue it was anything more than the accident he claimed.
But I think the moral takeaway is that George is guilty in his heart if not by his hands. He wanted a life of wealth and status with Angela, even if that meant abandoning Alice and their child. Once equals in society, Alice had become no longer good enough for his aspirations. So began a trail of lies and deception that ultimately led to tragedy.
In the last moments of the film, George's priest asks him who he was thinking of while he was struggling in the water: Alice, or Angela? In choosing his hopes and dreams over his responsibilities, George Eastman fell into his own personal abyss.
"A Place in the Sun" is a story about moral complexity, and how it can sometimes be hard to tell immediately what is right and wrong. George Eastman, played with profound earnestness by Clift, starts out as a good man but loses his way, and more importantly doesn't realize he's on the wrong path until it's too far to turn back.