Stella Dallas (1937, King Vidor)
Barbara Stanwyck and Barbara O'neil embrace as mother and daughter.
SPOILER ALERT!!
A surprisingly touching woman's film staring Barbara Stanwyck as the title character, Stella Dallas is the story of Stella, a common woman with dreams of higher status. Stella is infatuated with the handsomely uncommon plant manager Stephen Dallas (John Boles). A former New York entrepreneur, Stephen has fled his past life, money, and fiance to start anew in the small town Stella calls home. The two are quickly swept up in a whirlwind romance, resulting in marriage and daughter Laurel, eventually played by Anne Shirley.
Shortly thereafter, Stella reverts to her common ways restricting her high society elbow rubbing to the upper crust's more pedestrian members. In comes gambler-to-the-rich Ed Munn, a jovial drunkard with a volatile knack for pickin' the ponies. As Stella's desire to become one of the societal elites fades, so too does her relationship with Stephen. The years pass and Stephen is spending more and more time in New York, re-establishing himself as the successful businessman he once was and reconciling relations with his former fiance Helen (Barbara O'neil). Now he only returns to visit Laurel, who is growing in to an educated, refined young woman.
As time passes, Laurel becomes increasingly drawn to the affluent world of her father. Still, she never denies her mother, who is so obviously a pariah in the country club atmosphere to which Laurel has become accustomed. This is never more evident than in the scene at the soda shop. Laurel and her boyfriend arrive at the soda shop as their friends are amusedly recalling the antics of an embarrassingly out of place woman. This woman is, of course, Stella, parading around the country club in a gaudy number complete with white fox fur and shoes with bells on them. Laurel is panicked when she finds out this woman--who incidentally has just wandered into the soda shop--is her mother. She quickly fabricates a story about a missing ornament and flees from the shop before her mother notices her.
From this scene it may appear that Laurel has denied her mother, and maybe on some level she has, but we find that Laurel's fleeing from both the shop and the country club soon after are attempts to spare her mother the embarrassment of discovery. Discovery that she is not as refined as she thinks; that she is not as accepted as she thinks; that she is in fact the butt of the joke, the ducklings in a lake of swans. Despite Laurel's efforts, Stella discovers what has happened and is faced with the realization that as long as she is Laurel's mother, Laurel will never "belong."
One day Stella goes to visit Stephen's new love Helen (soon to be Helen Dallas). She asks Helen that if she concedes to a divorce, will Helen take Laurel on as her own. Taken back by the selflessness of Stella's request, she agrees. Of course when Laurel hears that she is to live with her father and Helen now, instead of her mother, she is flattered, but promptly declines the invitation. She could never leave her mother, her mother who raised her, who now needs her. Stella must again sacrifice. When Laurel arrives home, Stella plays that she is in love with the detested Ed Munn and is about to leave for Rio de Janiero to get married. It would appear that she no longer wants her daughter. Laurel returns to her father and Helen in tears, convinced that Stella's selfless act was in fact a selfish one.
The film culminates in a heart-wrenching-final scene: Stella is watching from the streets as her daughter gets married. A police officer is attempting to usher her away from the window. "Please. Let me see her face when he kisses her," she begs. Stella watches the kiss; she is moved along, a smile slowly stretching its way across her face. Her sacrifice was not in vein; her great dream passed along to her child. A tragically happy ending.
As I wrote before, this was a surprisingly touching film. Barbara Stanwyck steals every scene. Yet O'neil is also quite good. And the two play off each other splendidly, resulting in some of the most endearing scenes in the film. Beyond the acting, the costuming is well thought out. The motif of accouterments versus classic plainness is one of the strongest and smartest indicators of status in the film. If you have not seen Stella Dallas, I highly recommend it. And, I apologize for spoiling the plot.
Sahara (1943, Zoltan Korda)
Humphrey Bogart and his motley crew of international infantry men plot their stand against the Nazi juggernaut.
I won't say much about Sahara. Only that if you are a Bogie fan, or would like to be, this is the film for you. Bogie has the traditional coolness that marks many of his more popular roles with a more readily noticeable compassion, that is often masked at the onset of other films. Sahara is a WWII buddy war film set in the Sahara Desert. Although it is often considered an American propaganda film, it's the kind of propaganda I can get behind. I mean the entire Allied forces embodied in 11 men, even an Axis buddy (the Italian convert Giuseppe), and a single American tank named Lulubelle verses 500 of the Third Reich's finest. Does that not sound good? Definitely worth a viewing.
That's all folks. My first "A Week in Film" posting complete. I hope this inspired some of you to expand your cinematic repertoire. One week, two great films. Not a bad start.
Picture Sources:
Stella Dallas: Barbara Stanwyck and Barbara O'neil embrace as mother and daughter.
Sahara: Humphrey Bogart and his motley crew of international infantry men plot their stand against the Nazi juggernaut.
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