Gene Tierney @ 100: Leave Her To Heaven
Saturday, November 21, 2020 at 5:00PM by Jason Adams
The surface of the lake is calm -- almost, but not quite, like a mirror. It's a clinical aquamarine color, not much different from Gene Tierney's own eyes. Not that we can see her eyes -- she's just put on her sunglasses. They too act as mirrors -- dark mirrors, reflecting darkness. Ellen Berent Harland (Tierney) watches as the annoying little "cripple" Danny (Darryl Hickman) breaks the sheen of the lake's surface, as if slipping through into some unseen Wonderland -- they say repeatedly the water is warm, so warm, so very warm, but it looks to us cold, ice cold, and indeed the actor Hickman got pneumonia from the filming of this, Leave Her to Heaven's most infamous scene.
But then that's a sense that suffuses all of John M. Stahl's 1945 technicolor Noir masterpiece -- the feeling that something that sounds warm and inviting on its surface might actually be hiding an icy purgatory of horrors just beneath...
That day on that Maine lake is bright and sunny, but that doesn't keep Danny from his dark fate; the waters of Maine aren't exactly known for their warmth. Similarly the majority of Leave Her to Heaven otherwise takes place in the deserts of New Mexico, and if you've ever been in the desert then you know how cold it can get. Colder than seems possible for a place so identified with heat.
Picture Tierney galloping across that desert, a sunset painting the place peach and pink as she dusts the dust with her father's ashes from a can, half of them spilling across her lap and her twisting it-must-be-said bosom, a voluptuous intermingling of sex and death that immediately betrays the too-close bond between daughter and now-deceased father. This bizarre horseback dance is what seems to finally ensnare poor dope Richard (Cornel Wilde) -- the music swells, his eyes bug out. He's a goner in a million ways.
Every moment he shares with Teirney in the film's early scenes scream to him, and to us, to run for the hills, but we can't much seem to see the warning signs just yet either -- we too are so entranced by Gene Tierney's surreal implacable beauty that we're just as sucked in. Think of their meet-cute on the train, which is anything but -- that aquamarine of Tierney's eyes is out in full force again, now painting the walls of the cabin; the patterns of curtain against horizontal blinds give the room a webbed feeling, where the spider lays in wait, not blinking its big beautifuls. The second he, and we, see her, that's that -- the story's as good as written.
Indeed it is -- it's there in her hand, and Richard's already a part of its pages. His picture on the back cover. He's an author you see, and she's reading one of his books. Or rather she's falling asleep in the middle of it -- she drops it as her boredom overwhelms her. Richard races to pick the book up off the floor. He hands it to her. She insults the book, because why not go that extra measure? And then she stares. And stares. And stares. Later we find out he reminds her of her father (because of course) but Ellen stares far past the point of comfort or cuteness -- Richard fumbles under her glare to light a cigarette and the scene plays out somewhat comically but Tierney never lets in on any joke. Ellen's eyes-of-envy gives off no heat -- just a clinical insistence. He's a bug already pinned to the mat.
That master of melodrama Douglas Sirk spent his career chasing after what John M. Dahl did decades earlier (Sirk remade two of Stahl's films, Imitation of Life and Magnificent Obsession) but Leave Her To Heaven always feels to me like the ultimate Sirk film -- hell it's pre-Kubrickian even. It stands out from Dahl's own filmography in its darkness, its coldness; in the way it subverts the American Dream by turning the Perfect Wife into the Perfect Nightmare. Richard smilingly calls Ellen his "perfect slave" at one point but little does he know how far this proto-BDSM relationship will drag him.
"There's nothing wrong with Ellen. It's just that she loves too much." That's how Ellen's mother describes her, once Ellen's love has started baring its fangs. The word we use for "loving too much" is "smothering" -- and please note the "mothering," the "is mothering," the "s'mothering" of that word in this context -- and it's amazing how heavy and airless Leave Her To Heaven becomes the deeper we sink into Ellen's web. Once Danny goes under that lake all semblance of outside prettiness evaporates -- Tierney's face becomes even more mask-like, and Ellen's costumes become quilted, heavy, frilly beasts, thickly embroidered with her initials and in colors and patterns that match the drapes and seat covers. There's no air in these rooms anymore. We're been doilied to death.
And Ellen's name and initials are indeed everywhere, once you start noticing -- like the way she bluntly proclaims herself "Winner!" after beating two children in a swim-race, Ellen is all about slapping her stamp onto things. She doesn't love, she possesses, and Tierney plays her like a calculating child who'll turn on her dollies if she doesn't like the way they are playing her game. She'll drag them all into hell, herself included, if that's the only way to win. Study Tierney's face as she stands at the top of the staircase about to self-abort in a fabulous see-through blue nightgown, perfume spritzed upon her arms and chest, little kitten heels -- it's the stink of triumph passing among those many cold, gorgeous shadows.
Previously: Laura
Next: The Ghost and Mrs Muir
Reader Comments (13)
Tierney is wonderful, terrifying and fantastically opaque in 'Leave her to Heaven', thanks for the write-up - I'm going to immediately revisit after reading your words.
Well written piece describing a well crafted character by a underappreciated actress. This reminds me of Gone Girl in a way. Gillian Flynn must have seen the movie when thinking of Amy.
When I taught this in a History of Film class a few years ago, the students were all struck by how close GONE GIRL was to it.
Dan Humphrey, it's like if all the stories have already been told and then the next writer to bring something up changes one thing or other so it looks like new. But it's the same old story.
Leave Her to Heaven is as fascinating as its two stars Gene Tierney and Jeanne Craine.
Great Tierney write-up. Luxuriantly worded. Makes me feel like I'm happily drowning in a sea of patchouli. Or maybe a warm ocean full of that green liqueur Tierney tempts poor Anne Baxter with in "The Razor's Edge".
Dan Humphrey, it's like if all the stories have already been told and then the next writer to bring that story to the surface changes one thing or another and it looks like something new; but it's the same old story.
Leave Her to Heaven is as fascinating as its two stars, Gene Tierney and Jeanne Crain.
The most beautiful psychopath in cinema history
Someone had the ingenious idea of putting Roxy Music's "Take a Chance with Me" to that as I'm a big fan of Roxy and to use that music in that film makes me want to see the film even more.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zbhYTDXA3Vk
Interesting take on this disturbing film. Gene is wonderful, definitely at the peak. I wish I liked the rest of the film as much as I do her in it.
Darryl Hickman is very good as the doomed brother, probably the strongest supporting character with Vincent Price's late film histrionics entertaining in an over the top way. Cornel Wilde stolid attractiveness works for the character, a more forceful performer might have thrown off the balance with Gene. He has to be somewhat obtuse to remain oblivious to Ellen's machinations for so long.
The real weak link for me is Jeanne Crain. She was a pretty woman but often a mechanical actress and that holds true here, her insipidness is a hindrance. I understand she's supposed to be a contrast to Ellen's placid brand of evil but Susan Hayward or Helen Walker would have provided more fire and Gail Russell more soulfulness instead of Crain's blandness.
I don't dislike the film but it's not one I revisit very often.
Jason, it's no wonder you got the director's name wrong since John Dahl is one of our masters of modern noir, but he's not John M. Stahl.
God, I love this film and Tierney's work in it.
Oh damn, thanks for the heads-up on that name mix-up, Working stiff -- I must have done that subconsciously without even realizing it. It's fixed. I knew it was "Stahl" and I don't know why I typed "Dahl" -- that was weird.
This movie was a huge hit when it came out which is kind of surprising since it came out in the era of Bell's of St. Mary's and It's A Wonderful Life etc. It was 20th Century Fox's biggest hit of the entire decade, and really, the whole thing rests on Gene Tierney (and the technicolor). This should rightly have made Gene Tierney one of the biggest stars in Hollywood. Alas...
Cornel Wilde was one of the most handsome men Hollywood has ever produced and Gene's performance was extraordinary.