Plot Summary: Jane Wyman plays Cary Scott, a prosperous suburban New England widow with two college-aged children. Rock Hudson plays Ron Kirby, a nurseryman and gardener. Cary and Ron meet when he's pruning trees in her yard. She becomes intrigued by his free spirit and his romantic life. He falls for her as well and wants to be married. Cary is afraid of the social consequences of marriage to Ron, and she also fears her children's disapproval. Cary is not only older than Ron (at the time the movie was made Jane Wyman was 38 to Rock Hudson's 30) but is also wealthier. Cary's friends and children are snobbish and socially conscious. Ron's friends are eccentric and fun-loving. Cary must choose between love and convention. (Summary from www.imdb.com) |
My view on the movie: This has to be my favorite Douglas Sirk movie to date. Perhaps, that's because this movie is so understated and graceful -- no hugely dramatic music-driven scenes, no false declarations of love, no miscellaneous and erroneous motivations. Many of the conventional melodramatic tendencies/devices are stripped away to reveal the story and the players within that story. It’s still a melodrama, but it doesn’t carry the negative, tacky quality of that title. It’s more realistic – more true to what actually would happen without theatrics. A widow falls in love with a roguishly handsome younger man. Her town objects. Her children object. Even today, the gossip mills churn over information like that. One can only imagine what it would be like to go through a similar experience in the 1950’s where May-December relationships were a lot less accepted in “proper” society. The message of this movie is simple – follow you heart and to your own self, be true. It’s hopeful, which I must say, I adore. Sirk isn’t always so hopeful about the state of the world. Sure there are flaws evident in the society presented in this movie, but ultimately, there are a lot of good people in, around, and outside of that society. People are what matter in this movie. Sirk and the wonderful actors take care to prove that point. Sirk is one of the only fifties’ directors who portrays independent women so reasonably. Cary, the main character played by Jane Wyman, shows a depth of character and intelligence rarely seen. She’s self-aware. She knows what she wants (for the most part) and how she feels. Sometimes her feelings are muddled, but it’s obvious to the viewer through her pensive pauses that she realizes this. She doesn’t rush to explain; rather she mulls over the issue. She actually thinks on the screen. You can see the wheels moving. You can feel her torment as she is asked to choose between what is “perfect” and what feels right. Cary has obstacles on the way, but amazingly, she does have support. There are several characters that encourage her to follow her heart. They want her to choose and be independent. They try not to judge. They challenge her to think outside of the box. My favorite example: After discussing the love issue with her town doctor, Cary says, “If he loved me, he would have come for me.” It’s the typical damsel-in-distress, man-take-charge attitude prevalent in 50’s movies. The doctor barbs back, “If you love him, you would go to him.” Cary digests this data on screen realizing how limited her worldview is, and then, she takes a stand. She goes to him. Without the support of other characters, regardless of her independence, Cary would never make it that far. Society seems to be a prevalent theme in all of Sirk’s melodramas. It’s nice to see society and networks of support being on the good side for once. My last observation on All that Heaven Allows is the care in which male characters are treated with. It’s easy to make the male a villain in a movie about a thoughtful woman. It’s so simple to throw out stock male stereotypes to starkly contrast the growth and freedom Cary progresses through and to. But Sirk doesn’t do that in this movie. Ron, Cary’s younger man, is truly very masculine. He’s self-assured. He’s handsome and muscle-bound. He works outside. Digs the earth with his hands. But he also cries when Cary leaves him. He’s very emotional – every passion, grief, and ambiguity is written on his face. He’s sensitive to not only Cary’s needs, but also his own. He wants a woman to decide for herself. He doesn’t demand nor seem to desire control over her in anyway. It’s actually quite refreshing to see such a character. You actually want him to be happy. You feel for him. I commend Sirk for letting this man come to life on the screen. Actually, I just commend Sirk for creating this movie. I suggest that you see it if the chance ever presents itself. |