Ralph Richardson is a wealthy surgeon living with his daughter, Olivia De Havilland. She is presented as homely and lacking in grace. But de Havilland meets and finds herself courted by a younger man with the classy name of Morris Townsend (sounds like a Senator), played by the sublimely beautiful Montgomery Clift. Clift is better looking than De Havilland and his ardor seems a little excessive, but De Havilland is bewitched by his charm.
Man, is she anxious to be loved -- and married! Richardson is a really cold fish, while De Havilland is inspired by her love for Clift. The father of course disapproves of the romance. Despite his elegant WASPY name, Clift is not a man of means.
Richardson takes De Havilland on a trip to Europe, hoping that she and Clift will drift away from each other, but it doesn't work. She's determined to get out of the old man's house and live a rhapsodic life with the man of her dreams. And when they return from Europe, Clift is still salivating over the prospect of marriage.
Finally Richardson throws his cards face up on the table. She's homely. She's socially clumsy. No one wants her, except for her inheritance, which he intends to deprive her of should she run off without his permission.
That's exactly what she proposes to Clift in the court yard in the middle of a driving rain. Let's elope. We'll run off together tonight. Clift eagerly agrees. He'll return for her at nine that night. But then his face drops when she brings up her disinheritance. Au revoir, Olivia. He splits for California, leaving her waiting at the window all night.
Years later, after Richardson has passed on and left her all his money, Clift shows up again, swearing that his love for her had never lessened and that he only left town because he didn't want to see her destitute. In other words, he left her flat for her own good. She gets even with him. The last shot of her climbing the stairs with a candle, smiling grimly, is chilling. The end.
Henry James in his novel "Washington Square", from which this film is adapted, may have borrowed the frame for his characters from his philosopher brother, William.
Richardson and Clift are like two peas in a pod, both "tough-minded" -- shrewd, practical, and unsentimental.
Olivia De Havilland and her comforting Aunt Penniman, Miriam Hopkins, are equally "tender-minded" -- trusting, romantic, emotional, generous.
Standing back a little from the story, it looks like a salubrious blend of Jane Austen (how can De Havilland get the proper husband?) and Charles Dickens (an impoverished young man seeks entry into the world of the very rich).
Nicely done, too. Olivia De Havilland has never given a better dramatic performance. Notice, the morning after she's been deserted by Clift, the way her voice drops into the lower register and becomes flat, toneless, and resolute for the first time. And she's supposed to be unattractive but, despite that repulsive period hair style, she still seems winsome and "nice." Her eyes are big and dark like some nocturnal animal's, maybe a harmless fruit bat. And as a girl Olivia De Havilland attended a tiny, charming Catholic school in Saratoga, California. It's still unobtrusively there, tucked away behind stucco walls, oleander, and live oak, almost as hidden as the spinster's bitterness.
Ralph Richardson is in his best form -- stiff upper-lipped, dealing out instructions to the household help and family about the arrangements for his death, forthcoming in a week or so. In full frontal view, his face is almost a perfect ellipse with uninteresting features, his hairline receding, the plane only spoiled here by a modest, pointed beard.
I prefer Clift as a brooding, tortured fellow, along the lines of his characters in "A Place in the Sun" or "From Here to Eternity." But, as a matter of fact, his Morris Townsend has a lot in common with his George Eastman in "A Place in the Sun," jealous of social standing and a comfortable income, except that here he's thoroughly cold blooded about it all. He'd rather see the sun rise on a dollar bill than on all the Rocky Mountains in Colorado. Clift and Richardson, the other tough-minded individual, have something in common too. Richardson's got it and Clift wants it, and each knows the other knows. It all puts de Havilland in the position of a soccer ball.
Very nicely done -- photography, art direction, and all. Vanessa Brown as the maid with the plump lower lip is cute. I recall seeing her as a seductress in a play on Broadway. What she needed was one of those short black outfits with a dainty white apron and perfunctory cap, like those French maids in cartoons.
Man, is she anxious to be loved -- and married! Richardson is a really cold fish, while De Havilland is inspired by her love for Clift. The father of course disapproves of the romance. Despite his elegant WASPY name, Clift is not a man of means.
Richardson takes De Havilland on a trip to Europe, hoping that she and Clift will drift away from each other, but it doesn't work. She's determined to get out of the old man's house and live a rhapsodic life with the man of her dreams. And when they return from Europe, Clift is still salivating over the prospect of marriage.
Finally Richardson throws his cards face up on the table. She's homely. She's socially clumsy. No one wants her, except for her inheritance, which he intends to deprive her of should she run off without his permission.
That's exactly what she proposes to Clift in the court yard in the middle of a driving rain. Let's elope. We'll run off together tonight. Clift eagerly agrees. He'll return for her at nine that night. But then his face drops when she brings up her disinheritance. Au revoir, Olivia. He splits for California, leaving her waiting at the window all night.
Years later, after Richardson has passed on and left her all his money, Clift shows up again, swearing that his love for her had never lessened and that he only left town because he didn't want to see her destitute. In other words, he left her flat for her own good. She gets even with him. The last shot of her climbing the stairs with a candle, smiling grimly, is chilling. The end.
Henry James in his novel "Washington Square", from which this film is adapted, may have borrowed the frame for his characters from his philosopher brother, William.
Richardson and Clift are like two peas in a pod, both "tough-minded" -- shrewd, practical, and unsentimental.
Olivia De Havilland and her comforting Aunt Penniman, Miriam Hopkins, are equally "tender-minded" -- trusting, romantic, emotional, generous.
Standing back a little from the story, it looks like a salubrious blend of Jane Austen (how can De Havilland get the proper husband?) and Charles Dickens (an impoverished young man seeks entry into the world of the very rich).
Nicely done, too. Olivia De Havilland has never given a better dramatic performance. Notice, the morning after she's been deserted by Clift, the way her voice drops into the lower register and becomes flat, toneless, and resolute for the first time. And she's supposed to be unattractive but, despite that repulsive period hair style, she still seems winsome and "nice." Her eyes are big and dark like some nocturnal animal's, maybe a harmless fruit bat. And as a girl Olivia De Havilland attended a tiny, charming Catholic school in Saratoga, California. It's still unobtrusively there, tucked away behind stucco walls, oleander, and live oak, almost as hidden as the spinster's bitterness.
Ralph Richardson is in his best form -- stiff upper-lipped, dealing out instructions to the household help and family about the arrangements for his death, forthcoming in a week or so. In full frontal view, his face is almost a perfect ellipse with uninteresting features, his hairline receding, the plane only spoiled here by a modest, pointed beard.
I prefer Clift as a brooding, tortured fellow, along the lines of his characters in "A Place in the Sun" or "From Here to Eternity." But, as a matter of fact, his Morris Townsend has a lot in common with his George Eastman in "A Place in the Sun," jealous of social standing and a comfortable income, except that here he's thoroughly cold blooded about it all. He'd rather see the sun rise on a dollar bill than on all the Rocky Mountains in Colorado. Clift and Richardson, the other tough-minded individual, have something in common too. Richardson's got it and Clift wants it, and each knows the other knows. It all puts de Havilland in the position of a soccer ball.
Very nicely done -- photography, art direction, and all. Vanessa Brown as the maid with the plump lower lip is cute. I recall seeing her as a seductress in a play on Broadway. What she needed was one of those short black outfits with a dainty white apron and perfunctory cap, like those French maids in cartoons.