David O'ConnellImitation of Life
December 14th 2009 04:06
The term melodrama conjures notions of extreme emotional reaction to everyday circumstances. In 1950’s Hollywood, one director - German-born Douglas Sirk - led an assault on the senses with a skillfully crafted set of cinematic variations on melodramatic themes that would influence generations of filmmakers to come. Most notable among them this past decade was Todd Haynes who famously reconstituted the Sirk aesthetic for his superb 2002 film, Far From Heaven.
Imitation of Life, released in 1959 and Sirk’s final American film before banishing himself to Europe, sees Lana Turner as aspiring New York actress Lora Meredith. She’s a down-on-her-luck wannabe waiting for a big break when a day at the beach with young daughter Susie (later played by Sandra Dee) changes her life. When Susie goes missing briefly, she runs into Annie Johnson (Juanita Moore) a kindly black woman Lora is surprised to learn is the mother of white girl Sarah Jane (later played by Susan Kohner). A friendship is forged as despite her own financial destitution, Lora offers Annie and Sarah-Jane a place to stay temporarily; an arrangement and friendship - with Annie as maid - that will last for many years.
Lora’s love life becomes complicated when the younger man she initially falls for, photographer Steve (John Gavin) – also first encountered on the beach that day – gets trampled by her ambitious rationalisations at every turn. Inevitably Lora is taken under the wing of the writer, David Edwards (Dan O'Herlihy), who gives her the crucial break that sets her star into orbit - cue a glitzy montage covering Lora's decade-long rise - and she remains loyal to him, maintaining the delusion of a real love that wavers on a deeper level.
The crux of the matter is whether this superficially vindicated woman is really happy? Or are the gloss, the opulence, the glamour, all just expensive camouflage for a life tainted by the one shot at real love she disregarded, and devotion of a true friend she took for granted, to climb the ladder to professional achievement?
There are scenes, especially in the third act, that teeter on the verge of an emotional catharsis that's almost spiritual. In these, it’s like a decade's worth of prime Days of Our Lives fodder gridlocking at a single point of entry to our senses. Here, life’s biggest questions about death, friendship and identity are raised via hysterical over-representations and viewed in overwrought, minute detail. These fragile lives are put through the wringer and though a pool of suds may be all that emerges, you’d have to be made of stone to avoid tearing up at the emotional ruin that's left in their wake.
Imitation of Life is fascinating on so many levels; firstly, as a reflection of the time with its dark racial overtones. Though seemingly overstated, it’s the exaggeration of these gestures that makes them all the more poignant; subtlety is, after all, the enemy of melodrama and to not ram home the wrecking-ball force of the film's dominant themes would be gross dereliction of duty on Sirk’s part.
Also of note is the fascinating use of reflective surfaces and colour, often to symbolize the internal states of the characters. Then there’s the relationship between white and black women in a time when friendship between them can’t possibly exist anywhere but on the surface, with one lording power and social status over the other in every case.
Perhaps most interesting of all is the identity crisis that plagues Sarah Jane who must constantly avoid acknowledgement of her mother for the negative associations the colour of her skin raises to the surface. The calamity of her true heritage, seen as lowly and demeaning, sends her life into freefall; recklessly she attempts to break away and forge independence, only to be hounded by her dogged mother who preaches dignity and pride of oneself with the fervor of a minister.
As for Lora, it’s with abject, heart-swelling despair that she comprehends the depths of loyal Annie's symbolic presence; the most illuminating revelation comes as Lora admits she’s never known the most fundamental facts about her most trusted confidante after years of friendship – like what Annie might conceivably do with her own spare time. It echoes that old rhetorical question: if a tree falls in a forest and no one’s around to see it, did it really happen at all? Could it be that Annie doesn’t exist in Lora’s mind unless she can see her (or requires her perhaps?).
Here’s a statement that isn’t easy to reconcile with in the cold light of day: in summation, this sudsy melodrama is magnificent! Is it high art? Well maybe, from a certain perspective, but regardless, there’s no question Sirk left Hollywood on a high. The performances he elicits are first-rate for a film of this kind; so fine, in fact, that Moore and Kohner earned Oscar nominations (with Kohner winning a Golden Globe). Imitation of Life is a melodrama that could rightfully be referred to as the pinnacle of the artform, the perfect encapsulation of the modus operandi that now defines Sirk's long-assured cinematic legacy.
Imitation of Life, released in 1959 and Sirk’s final American film before banishing himself to Europe, sees Lana Turner as aspiring New York actress Lora Meredith. She’s a down-on-her-luck wannabe waiting for a big break when a day at the beach with young daughter Susie (later played by Sandra Dee) changes her life. When Susie goes missing briefly, she runs into Annie Johnson (Juanita Moore) a kindly black woman Lora is surprised to learn is the mother of white girl Sarah Jane (later played by Susan Kohner). A friendship is forged as despite her own financial destitution, Lora offers Annie and Sarah-Jane a place to stay temporarily; an arrangement and friendship - with Annie as maid - that will last for many years.
Lora’s love life becomes complicated when the younger man she initially falls for, photographer Steve (John Gavin) – also first encountered on the beach that day – gets trampled by her ambitious rationalisations at every turn. Inevitably Lora is taken under the wing of the writer, David Edwards (Dan O'Herlihy), who gives her the crucial break that sets her star into orbit - cue a glitzy montage covering Lora's decade-long rise - and she remains loyal to him, maintaining the delusion of a real love that wavers on a deeper level.
Lana Turner as Lora Meredith
The crux of the matter is whether this superficially vindicated woman is really happy? Or are the gloss, the opulence, the glamour, all just expensive camouflage for a life tainted by the one shot at real love she disregarded, and devotion of a true friend she took for granted, to climb the ladder to professional achievement?
There are scenes, especially in the third act, that teeter on the verge of an emotional catharsis that's almost spiritual. In these, it’s like a decade's worth of prime Days of Our Lives fodder gridlocking at a single point of entry to our senses. Here, life’s biggest questions about death, friendship and identity are raised via hysterical over-representations and viewed in overwrought, minute detail. These fragile lives are put through the wringer and though a pool of suds may be all that emerges, you’d have to be made of stone to avoid tearing up at the emotional ruin that's left in their wake.
Imitation of Life is fascinating on so many levels; firstly, as a reflection of the time with its dark racial overtones. Though seemingly overstated, it’s the exaggeration of these gestures that makes them all the more poignant; subtlety is, after all, the enemy of melodrama and to not ram home the wrecking-ball force of the film's dominant themes would be gross dereliction of duty on Sirk’s part.
Also of note is the fascinating use of reflective surfaces and colour, often to symbolize the internal states of the characters. Then there’s the relationship between white and black women in a time when friendship between them can’t possibly exist anywhere but on the surface, with one lording power and social status over the other in every case.
Susan Kohner as Sarah Jane
Perhaps most interesting of all is the identity crisis that plagues Sarah Jane who must constantly avoid acknowledgement of her mother for the negative associations the colour of her skin raises to the surface. The calamity of her true heritage, seen as lowly and demeaning, sends her life into freefall; recklessly she attempts to break away and forge independence, only to be hounded by her dogged mother who preaches dignity and pride of oneself with the fervor of a minister.
As for Lora, it’s with abject, heart-swelling despair that she comprehends the depths of loyal Annie's symbolic presence; the most illuminating revelation comes as Lora admits she’s never known the most fundamental facts about her most trusted confidante after years of friendship – like what Annie might conceivably do with her own spare time. It echoes that old rhetorical question: if a tree falls in a forest and no one’s around to see it, did it really happen at all? Could it be that Annie doesn’t exist in Lora’s mind unless she can see her (or requires her perhaps?).
Here’s a statement that isn’t easy to reconcile with in the cold light of day: in summation, this sudsy melodrama is magnificent! Is it high art? Well maybe, from a certain perspective, but regardless, there’s no question Sirk left Hollywood on a high. The performances he elicits are first-rate for a film of this kind; so fine, in fact, that Moore and Kohner earned Oscar nominations (with Kohner winning a Golden Globe). Imitation of Life is a melodrama that could rightfully be referred to as the pinnacle of the artform, the perfect encapsulation of the modus operandi that now defines Sirk's long-assured cinematic legacy.
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Comment by Matt Shea
20/20 Filmsight
Haha Dave - fantastic stuff. I must admit that I'm not too intimate with Sirk's work - I've seen Written on the Wind, but a very long time ago. I would usually steer clear of this, but there seems to be a fair bit going on underneath the surface - may have to give it a look-see.
Comment by David O'Connell
Screen Fanatic
Comment by Anonymous