PEYTON PLACE: Blu-ray (2oth Century-Fox 1957) Twilight Time
For more than
half a century the name ‘Peyton Place’ has been synonymous
with salaciousness and sin, thanks to the runaway best seller by Grace
Metalious’ on which director, Mark Robson hand-crafted a rather affecting movie
version in 1957; all about the comings and goings of a seemingly button-down
conservative enclave of ‘church-going’
folk in Maine, dedicating their lives to hard work and Christian principles…at
least…on the surface. Alas, it’s only a façade; the veneer very thin and about
to crack and buckle from under with an insidious malaise of dark family secrets
and tantalizing bits of tawdry gossip, threatening to crush the faux
respectability shored up by all this slum prudery and middle-class morality. If the concoction appears tame by today’s
bargain annex standards that have left little to nothing to the imagination, it
is really only due to Hollywood’s then starchy and self-governing code of
censorship. Metalious’ novel was far more incendiary, chocked full of meaty
chapters devoted to illegitimate affairs, murder, unwed pregnancy, abortions,
and, even family incest. That Robson could show none of it on the screen, and
only hint at the rest in half shadow, yet still come up with a genuine, if at 2
½ hrs., rather lengthy (though never tedious) barn-burner (with pizzazz, glamor
and a killer score by Franz Waxman) is a testament, not only to Robson, but
also his star; the legendary Lana Turner – glamour queen deluxe, primarily known
for her nightclubbing prowess while still MGM’s sweater girl in the 1940’s; more
recently in 1957, and infamously for tom-catting around Tinsel Town with bona
fide Mafioso, Johnny Stompanato (a real piece of work…more on this later).
Lovely Lana
would go through two trials by fire; one for her art, the other to spare her
real-life daughter, Cheryl Crane from spending the rest of her natural life in
prison for murder. Turner had lived the hai-hooi sexpot and spicy intrigues of
a dime store novel in her youth; the hottest trick in shoe leather with her
pick of any number of adoring male suitors from Hollywood’s stellar gene pool
of male virility. Now at the age of thirty-six, Lana was hardly right for the
part of Constance Mackenzie; ‘mom’ to teenager, Allison (Diane Varsi) and yet,
given her circumstances with Cheryl, so right for it too, if only to stand the
precepts of such turpitude on end – do as
I say, rather than ‘do’ – the maxim of both these ‘unhappily ever afters’. Ten years earlier, Turner might have made a
go of the part of Betty Anderson (played by Terry Moore), the girl of easy
virtue who lands Rodney Harrington (Barry Coe), the most amiable buck in town, or
perhaps even Selena Cross (Hope Lange); the impoverished and put upon, ginger
sweet girl-next-door who is raped by her estranged stepfather (Arthur Kennedy),
and escapes being branded a murderess when a verdict of ‘justifiable homicide’
is entered into the public record. Now, that’s a Peyton Place I would have killed to see! Alas, somewhere in
screenwriter, John Michael Hayes’ meandering, though commendably condensed
screenplay, the repeatedly thwarted love affair between Lana’s fiery drama
queen and newly appointed high school principal, Michael Rossi (Lee Philips – a
real milquetoast) gets lost. That said; Lana proves her every merit as a box
office draw herein. There is, after all, a reason they used to call them
‘stars’; the cache of a Lana Turner enough to carry the ballast of any role -
even when Turner is not on the screen.
Peyton Place began its gestation in the mind of a disillusioned
daydreamer: Grace Metalious: an unassuming 32 year old housewife from
Gilmanton, New Hampshire. No doubt, those dwelling within Gilmanton’s borders
could see more than a few parallels between themselves and Metalious’ cleverly
concocted fiction. For upon publication, Gilmanton’s citizenry wanted
absolutely nothing to do with the novel’s tidal wave of publicity (selling over
10 million copies within the first year); nor Metalious’ overnight celebrity
or, indeed, with Metalious herself. Deemed a bawdy and rebellious trailblazer
elsewhere, to the narrow-minded living close by, Metalious’ had become an
anathema to their hypocrisies; a chain-smoking Judas, no one could trust with
their family secrets. In hindsight, Metalious was possessed by her own inner
demons; wed at the tender age of eighteen and living in squalid conditions with
her three children; derelict in her payments on a broken down jalopy;
perpetually hungry, careworn and depressed and frequently drunk; discovering
her hubby, George, had been unfaithful while away during WWII, and combating
this betrayal with one of her own after he came home. No, for Grace Metalious,
writing Peyton Place was neither a
pastime nor a hobby, but a means to simultaneously escape and expose this life
she knew only too well; also to vent her pent-up frustrations to likely compatriots
in the world at large, to side not only her set of circumstances, but respect
her unvarnished honesty. Sadly, Metalious would soon discover she was very much
the outsider – if not to the world at large (having embraced the novel and made
her an immediate darling in the publishing world) - than definitely to the ‘good’ people of Gilmanton, who took
every opportunity to expunge her from their collective memories and ostracize
her from their social circles. Hence, when Metalious died of acute alcoholism a
scant seven years later – just two years after producer, Jerry Wald
immortalized her poison-penned wit with a smash hit film – Gilmanton had yet to
forgive their most infamous citizen for blowing the lid off their community.
There was, in fact, a boycott to stop her internment at Smith Meeting House
Cemetery, with several more attempts made over the years to have her body
exhumed and moved elsewhere, presumably, far far away. This never happened, but
it did not stymie certain influences in Gilmanton from repeatedly trying; their
vitriol knowing no bounds. Gee-whiz: let the poor girl rest in peace.
In hindsight,
Mark Robson’s Peyton Place (1957) is
an impressive achievement; the novel’s most scandalous vignettes transposed to
the larger-than-life Cinemascope screen with ole-time Hollywood glamour butted
against hints and flashes of a tawdrier, more perverse reflection never
entirely to materialize. The book and movie’s popularity were predicated on an
even simpler premise: that, to varying degrees we are all living through our
own version of this shameful den of iniquity. The notion, that simply by
walking down any street one was apt to pass within inches of a sadist, rapist
or murderer is, I’ll grant you, not a very comforting thought, although
nevertheless true, and an astute observation for which Metalious made
absolutely no apologies and thus, seemed fair game to be pilloried in the press.
Even so, sex and violence are as ancient as the existence of mankind. Moreover,
from the Bible to Shakespeare, Fitzgerald, Hemingway, Ian Fleming and beyond,
they have served as cornerstones in popular literature for centuries. That Peyton Place just happened to come
along during a period in America’s cultural evolution when the very thought of
sex was considered as wicked an indulgence as partaking in the act itself outside
of wedlock (our 50’s movie art turned to antiseptic fairy-tales about chaste
goodness and virtue being its own reward), just happened to be Metalious’ dumb
luck and bad timing; though perhaps, not entirely. For Peyton Place fired the intrigues and curiosities of both young and
old; the novel’s overwhelming salability, despite being banned in several
states, attesting to its staying power. That the name ‘Peyton Place’ has
remained a nom de plume for most any garden variety impiety, conveniently
popped into our hushed collective cultural understanding, tells us all we
really need to know about the potency and legacy of both Metalious’ novel and
Robson’s movie.
In Hollywood,
the book’s wildfire in a wheat field success was not lost on producer, Jerry
Wald. Known for his ability to bring forth powerful, provocative and seemingly
un-filmable stories to the big screen, Peyton
Place was right up Wald’s alley. Still, Wald’s battles herein proved very
hard won indeed; Hollywood’s self-governing censorship jumping all over the
project even before a single page of script had been submitted for their
consideration. To hedge his bets, Wald hired John Michael Hayes to write the
screenplay. Hayes knew his way around double entendre. He also subconsciously
used the power of ‘inference’ as a
master wordsmith, to convey many – if not all – of the novel’s transgressions,
without ruffling too many conservative feathers. Metalious’ book explored two
abortions, one murder, and several cases of family incest as frankly as if she were
discussing Emily Post’s most recent spate of mantras for dinner etiquette. It
was precisely for this impenitent candor the evangelical right had taken
umbrage. On the screen, however, Hayes, Wald and Robson would be required to
‘finesse’ and imply, rather than ‘show and tell’. Miraculously, they succeeded
in keeping the book’s scandalous revelations in the final cut; a cause célèbre,
repeatedly championed by Robson – who went to the matt for Hayes’ screenplay
more than once, ironing out the compromises one by one. Regrettably expunged in
preproduction was Constance’s moonlit skinny dip with Michael Rossi; also, the
novel’s most fondly repeated line in hushed giggles “Untie the top of your bathing suit. I want to feel your breasts against
me when I kiss you,” never uttered in the movie for obvious reasons.
Also absent
from the film were the more creepy aspects of Norman Page’s (Russ Tamblyn)
incestuous relationship with his possessive mother, Evelyn (Erin
O'Brien-Moore). In the novel, Mrs. Page is still giving Norman – who is
seventeen – baths and home enemas; stifling his normal sexual impulses for
other girls, cuckolding him as something of her surrogate lover/subordinate man
slave for her own gratification. Indeed, the biggest sacrifices made on Peyton Place – the movie – concern
Norman Page; the censors unwilling to budge an inch; Tamblyn’s performance
transforming Norman into a sheepish mama’s boy, unable to express his awkward
affections for Allison for fear she might discover his ‘secret’ with mama. In
hindsight, Jerry Wald’s real victory was in getting Peyton Place made at all, but especially with so much of its taboo
subject matter intact; marking the first sincere blow to dismantle the
ensconced and governing board of censorship. Today, it is difficult to imagine
what all the fuss was about, in part because the pendulum of our present
day/laissez faire attitudes toward human sexuality has swung much too far in
the other direction. But in its day, Peyton
Place – the movie - was fairly shocking; scenes of rape, confessions of
adultery, bastard children, and, a suicide all given their moment to…uh…shine… on the screen. Perhaps, Wald
understood that, as a movie, Peyton
Place could easily have turned into a gumbo of B-grade melodrama,
particularly without the proper casting. What Wald needed was a star of the
first magnitude to commit to the picture.
And thus,
enter Lana Turner, newly released from her lucrative MGM contract after a
series of high-profile flops and certainly no stranger to sin; either playing
it to the hilt on the movie screen or, regrettably, living it large in her many
varied private liaisons with dangerous men.
By the time Peyton Place went
before the cameras Lana’s amour for beefy Johnny Stompanato, thug muscle for
California kingpin, Mickey Cohen, had decidedly cooled. If there is such a thing
as art imitating life, then Lana Turner’s court room histrionics during the
penultimate murder trial of Selina Cross in Peyton Place would prove a dry run for her even more provocative
and tear-stained defense of daughter, Cheryl Crane – on trial for Stompanato’s
murder a scant three months after the picture’s premiere. For the record, Stompanato
was hardly ‘good people’; in fact, a brute who attempted to corner Sean Connery
on a movie set in Britain for allegedly ‘showing
interest’ in Turner, to which the disarming Connery – a former bodybuilder
no less – casually diffused the situation with his own inimitable brand of
guts; Stompanato deported from the U.K. shortly thereafter. Nevertheless, it
was not brute force that put a period to Stompanato’s intimidation, but rather
Cheryl Crane’s naïve confrontation of the man in her mother’s boudoir on the
eve of April 4, 1958, after enduring several hours of heated bickering between
the couple. Reportedly fearing for her mother’s life, Cheryl ran upstairs and
tapped on the bedroom door, Stompanato suddenly appearing and the girl
repeatedly stabbed him with a knife retrieved from the butcher block in the
kitchen. Stompanato’s family sued to the tune of $7 million, but Crane was
exonerated of the crime; spending several years in a reformatory as her
recompense.
The part of Constance
McKenzie was a leap for Lana; the first time she acquiesced to playing the
mother of a teenage girl. It earned Turner a Best Actress nomination; the only
one she would ever receive in her long and prolific career. Interestingly, Wald also cast Russ Tamblyn
against type. Tamblyn was another MGM alumnus, known primarily as a ‘tumbler/dancer’ in light and frothy
musicals. Wald also hired David Nelson (of Ozzie
and Harriet fame) in a sort of reprise of playing himself, herein as the
ever-faithful, Ted Carter; Selina’s betrothed. But perhaps Wald’s most daring
appointments to the cast were Terry Moore (as the ‘fast girl’, Betty Anderson) and Barry Coe (as Rodney Harrington),
heir apparent to his father’s (Leon Ames) profitable cotton mill on which the
whole town’s economic prosperity depends. Neither Moore nor Coe were
established actors. Indeed, they are somewhat forgettable as the star-crossed
lovers, if undeniably good to look at as eye-candy. Wald also rounded out his
cast with some of 2oth Century-Fox’s finest contract players; Lloyd Nolen as
the benevolent, Doc Swain, Arthur Kennedy (the unscrupulous drunkard/rapist,
Lucas Cross), Betty Field as Selina’s distraught mother, Nellie; Lorne Green
(the high-priced prosecutor, determined to see her hang for murder), and
finally, Mildred Dunnock as the sad-eyed schoolmarm, Miss Elsie Thornton. If Peyton Place has a flaw, it is
undoubtedly its rather loose adherence to period. The novel takes place in the
early 1940’s with America at the cusp of WWII. Wald also sets the story in this
time frame. Alas, no one could confuse Jack Martin Smith and Lyle R. Wheeler’s
art direction for being anything except a send-up to the chichi styles of the
1950’s; ditto for Adele Palmer’s costuming and hair. The effect is amplified by
William C. Mellor’s gloriously rich color cinematography, shot in the trending
50’s mode of presentation: Cinemascope, and Franz Waxman’s superbly soapy main
theme and underscore. None of the aforementioned is complimentary to the
wartime milieu. In fact, even the rigid morality Peyton Place’s citizenry
supposedly adheres to plays more like social commentary on the postwar
Eisenhower generation than the Franklin D. Roosevelt/Harry Truman era. Does any
of this matter? Not really, I suppose, because the story being told is as
universal as time itself; youth rebelling against the conventions established
and imposed by the generation preceding them.
Peyton Place opens with Waxman’s towering fanfare preempting the
2oth Century-Fox Cinemascope intro, written by Alfred Newman in the 1930's and
expanded to encompass the Cinemascope logo after 1954. Only in a few instances
had Fox allowed for such a concession, the absence of their trademarked ‘logo’
theme illustrating the importance already placed on Peyton Place as their ‘prestige’
production for 1957. In short order, we are introduced to Michael Rossi, who
drives past some cardboard shanties on route to New England’s city of homes and
churches where, curiously, no one desires to discuss the slums. As Metalious’
hometown was decidedly off limits to Wald (Gilmanton’s city council even went
so far as to file an injunction temporarily prohibiting the sale, distribution
and/or possession of any photographic equipment to ensure no shots of their
hometown could be taken on the fly by a second unit without officially breaking
the law), Robson and company settled on Camden, Maine for the principle shoot,
with additional interiors and a few rear projection stock shots made back at
2oth Century-Fox. It should be noted that these process screen inserts are generally
badly done, and really do take the audience out of the ‘you are there’ location work whenever they appear. Still, as a
cost-cutting measure, and as a time-honored way of making movies then, Peyton Place is very much a product of
its time – and looks it from beginning to end.
As Rossi’s car
passes the shanties we are introduced to the Cross family; Nellie, her abusive
second husband, Lucas, eldest daughter, Selina, eldest son, Paul (William
Lundmark) and youngest child, Joey (Scotty Morrow). It seems Lucas has managed
to scare Paul off; Selina begging her brother not to go, but to no avail. The
camera picks up Rossi’s car arriving into town, near the malt shop run by Cory
Hyde (Edwin Jerome), taking his liberties with a shave in Cory’s bathroom
before proceeding to the Harrington Mill. There, Mr. Harrington and the school
Board of Trustees are about to appoint a new principal. Everyone in the
graduating class has naturally assumed it would be Miss Elsie Thornton, who has
dedicated her entire life to the education of Peyton Place’s children. We segue
into the home of single mother, Constance McKenzie and her teenage daughter,
Allison who is preparing a speech Rodney Harrington will deliver as a parting
gift to Elsie. Nellie, who works part-time as the McKenzie’s housemaid, informs
Constance of Paul’s departure. And while Constance shares Nellie’s concerns
about his future, Allison thinks it quite splendid of Paul to have struck out
on his own – something she daydreams about doing herself. Unhappily, the class
presentation of a dictionary and Allison’s speech delivered by Rodney turns
sour when Elsie learns of Mike Rossi’s appointment in her stead. Rossi has
struck a hard bargain with Mr. Harrington, who initially offered him a mere
$3000 a year to accept. “We're all
wasting our time,” Rossi insists, “That's
only $5 a week more than I was making as a teacher.” When Mr. Harrington
suggests the offer comes with the security of a long-term contract, Rossi
bluntly admits, “Guaranteed poverty is
not security!” The truth stings, but
Harrington can admire a man who stands up for his rights. He accepts Rossi’s
terms. Taking nothing less than $5000, plus a $500 bonus at the end of the first
year, Rossi begins taking charge of Peyton High almost immediately; his rules –
to teach the students how to think for themselves and place their personal
honor above curricular studies – finding considerable favor amongst the
faculty. After Rossi has gone home,
Lucas, who is the school’s janitor, pokes fun at his ideas, adding insult to
injury over Elsie bitter loss of the position.
At the end of
the school day, Allison joins Selena, her best friend, the two hurrying to
Constance’s dress shop where they meet up with several other girls, including
resident sexpot, Betty Anderson who gives Allison a bit of sound advice: ‘racy girls get first pickin’ of the most
eligible boys in town.’ Case in point: Betty’s lure on Rodney Harrington: the
town’s most amiable bachelor. Not only does Rodney stand to inherit his father’s
wealth and the mill, he is also Harvard-bound and destined to make something
more of his life. Betty’s been sweet on Rodney since they were children and
vice versa. Alas, Mr. Harrington has a few choice words for his son. ‘Fast girls are okay for a fling…but they
have no place in a solid family like the Harringtons in the long run’. Constance
too objects to Allison inviting Betty to her birthday party, but gives in when
Allison bristles about the yoke in their mother/daughter relationship being too
tight. Constance trusts Allison, electing to go to the movies while the house
party is in full swing. Alas, Rodney and Betty arrive fashionably late with a
bottle of gin to spike the punch bowl, and, mistletoe Rodney has brought to get
the real petting party started. After her movie, Constance makes a pit stop at
Cory’s diner; Doc Swain introducing her to Mike Rossi. The two momentarily hit
things off. But Mike’s interest in Connie leaves a frost in the air. She coolly
says her goodbyes. Returning home to find the lights dimmed and all the party
attendees paired two by two, Constance orders everyone out of her house.
Allison is humiliated. The two argue and Constance tries to explain to her
headstrong daughter how easy it is for any girl to get ‘a reputation’.
Constance ought to know. She was once the mistress of a married man – Allison’s
father – who never married her and died before Allison was barely two years
old. Allison, of course, knows nothing of this as yet, leaving her dejected and
confused over her mother’s brittleness toward boys showing her even the
slightest affection.
A short while
later, Allison goes to collect Selena Cross for Sunday mass, inadvertently
witnessing Lucas spying on Selena while she is dressing. When Selena threatens
to tell Nellie, Lucas wallops her with his hand. Allison barges in to narrowly
avert a catastrophe before the girls hurry off to church. In the meantime, Mr.
Harrington has decided to give Rodney a brand new car. The gift comes with
certain provisos; namely, Rodney should give up Betty. Rodney refuses.
Nevertheless, Mr. Harrington makes his son break off his commitment to take
Betty to the graduation dance. He then commits Rodney as Allison’s date
instead. In the meantime, Rossi pays a social call on Constance to tell her
Allison has been named class valedictorian. Actually, it is just another excuse
for Rossi to see Constance again; also to get her to commit to being one of the
chaperones at the dance. Betty arrives on the arm of another boy, determined to
make Rodney jealous. Knowing he has been coerced into taking her to the dance,
Allison encourages Rodney to pursue Betty instead while she attempts to engage
Norman Page in a dance. Allison is fond of Norman. Perhaps, the feeling is
mutual. Although Norman is unable to dedicate himself to anything beyond an
awkward glance and half-crooked smile cast in Allison’s direction.
Rodney manages
to sneak off with Betty. The two get comfortable in his new convertible; Betty
leading Rodney on into believing he can have his way with her before thrashing
him with her beaded handbag. Evidently, she is not as easy to get and is not
about to let any boy who cannot even tell his own father what’s what take her
in the backseat of his car. Rodney is, understandably, shaken and perplexed.
Moreover, he has decided one thing. He needs to step up and be a man. As the
dance winds down, Rossi takes Constance home, making his first failed attempt
to seduce her with kisses. She equates
his affections to cheap maneuvers; all men paw at women simply to get what they
want. But Rossi explains his affections quite clearly. Moreover, he is not
about to let Constance get away with anything. “I kissed you,” he forcefully resolves, “You kissed me. That's affection, not carnality. That's affection, not
lust. You ought to know the difference!” Alas, Constance will have none of
it and orders Rossi away. He tells her the door to his heart is always open and
encourages her to use it when she is ready to let down her hair and be a woman
rather than a martinet. In another part of town, Ted escorts Selena home. The
two profess their love for one another and Ted vows to make an honest woman of
Selena before the summer is out. Alas, after he has gone Lucas, lecherous and
drunk, forces himself on his stepdaughter in a violent act. At graduation,
Allison delivers an inspirational benediction that everyone except Selena
believes. For Selena has since discovered she is pregnant with Lucas’ child and
upon bitterly confessing this truth to Doc Swain, she incurs Lucas’ wrath yet
again. Swain makes Lucas sign a written confession, ordering him to leave
Peyton Place for good or face being exposed for the sick molester that he is.
*Aside: in the
novel, Selena is not eighteen, but rather fourteen when the initial rape
occurs. Also, in the book (but not in the movie) Lucas repeatedly molests the
girl for some years. The production code forbade even the inference of sex with
a ‘child’, hence Selena’s rape takes place at the cusp of what was then
considered the age a girl becomes a young woman – eighteen. Lucas is angered by
the prospect of having to leave his home – such as it is. He finds Selena and
pursues her through the woods on foot, the intent, presumably, either to rape
her again or perhaps even beat and murder her for telling the truth. Instead,
Selena manages an escape and Lucas leaves town in the dead of night.
Tragically, Selena suffers a tumble down a steep ravine and is forced to have
surgery. Officially, Doc Swain writes up the operation as an appendectomy, to
spare Selena her reputation. Unofficially, he helps clear out the discharge
after she miscarries. In the novel, Doc Swain actually performs an abortion on
a healthy fetus; again, something the Production Code would not allow. Now, Selena
gets a job working at Constance’s dress shop. With the money she earns she is
able to make modest improvements to the house. Alas, Nellie becomes suspicious
of Selena’s operation.
During the
annual Labor Day picnic, Rodney renews his vow to make an honest woman of
Betty. The two elect to run off to a secluded spot near Crystal Lake where they
indulge in some heavy petting before going skinny dipping. At the same moment,
Allison and Norman are spotted riding their bicycles together near the lake by
town busybody, Marion Partridge (Peg Hillias) and her husband, Charles (Staats
Cotsworth); also headed up to the lake to do some fishing. From a distance,
Charles spies Betty and Rodney emerging from the water in the raw. Unable to
make out who they are, he merely tells Marion two young people have gone into
the woods naked. Putting two and two together (and coming up with sixteen)
Marion sets into motion the rumor Norman and Allison have been up to no good;
the incendiary tittle-tattle reaching Constance’s ears before nightfall.
Electing to telephone Mrs. Page at once, Constance and Evelyn await the return
of their children, confronting Norman and Allison about their whereabouts that
afternoon. While Norman admits to going swimming, he insists both he and
Allison were wearing their suits. In point of fact, his story is the truth. Wounded
by her mother’s mistrust, Allison and Constance have it out once and for all;
Constance revealing she was another man’s mistress and Allison, their
illegitimate love child. Shocked by the news, Allison hurries in tears to her
bedroom, only to discover in horror Nellie has hanged herself in the closet.
Sent into a self-imposed catatonia for several days, Allison’s first words to
Constance are she intends to leave Peyton Place at once and pursue a career as
a writer in New York. Selena pleads with Allison to remain, but it is no use.
Embittered by her mother’s sordid past, and repelled by the fact she has been
led to believe a lie about her father for so many years, Allison departs on the
first bus out of town. Several years pass.
Rodney and
Betty sneak off together and are married. Mr. Harrington quietly pulls his son
aside, assuring him he can get the marriage annulled. Rodney is disgusted by
the suggestion. Moreover, he puts his foot down and stands up to his father,
informing him he has no intention of attending Harvard. Mr. Harrington decides
to make the best of things, offering Rodney steady employment at the mill,
which he accepts as a proposal ‘man to
man’. The war comes and Norman enlists as a paratrooper. He is followed by
Rodney and Ted, along with other men and boys of eligible years. Regrettably,
Rodney dies overseas – his name added to the memorial plaque in town. A
tear-stained Betty and Mr. Harrington are reunited in their grief, Mr.
Harrington remembering a promise he made to his son before he went off to
fight; to look after Betty in the event anything should happen to him. Confessing he was mistaken about Betty, Mr.
Harrington now extends an unprejudiced hand, ‘to keep what’s left of the family together’. Genuinely touched by
this olive branch, Betty willingly accepts. With Christmas fast approaching,
Constance reconciles with Rossi; revealing the truth about her youthful
indiscretions and how it has cost her Allison’s love. Rossi renews his promise
to look after Constance if she will let him, and this time she confesses she
has loved and wanted him almost from the moment he arrived in town. Alas, the
holidays prove perilous for Selena and Joey after Lucas returns. An enlisted
sailor on shore leave, Lucas is already drunk by the time he returns to the
slum they once shared. He wastes no time in attempting to have his way with
Selena once again. Only this time, she is more than ready for him. After a
brief struggle, Selena manages to beat Lucas to death with a rather large piece
of firewood. Joey and she elect to bury Lucas’ remains in the back yard. Not
long thereafter, a pair of M.P.’s come to Constance’s shop to question Selena
about her stepfather’s disappearance. She lies to them about not having seen
Lucas for more than a year. But after they leave Selena confesses her ugly
secret to Constance, who believes it her duty to telephone the police.
In the
meantime, Allison and Norman (who has returned home after serving his country)
are reunited on a train bound for Peyton Place. Norman makes it very clear he
is interested in pursuing Allison romantically, and Allison reveals her failed
venture as a writer in New York has resulted in her working at a publishing
house instead. There is little opportunity for the Allison/Norman romance to
blossom, however; particularly after each learns of Selena’s arrest and pending
murder trial. Arguably, this is a flaw in the narrative construction; one
leaving a gaping hole in their relationship, but also in the minds of
movie-goers, expecting a more conclusive dénouement for these two fairly
important characters, more beloved and fleshed out in the book than on the
screen. In lieu of this, the last act of Peyton
Place is dedicated to an elaborate trial; catching up the characters within
the story to a point where the audience already is – and, in fact, has been for
quite some time. We get a rather heavy retread, as the unnamed lead prosecutor
(Lorne Green) squeezes Selena on the witness stand, twisting the facts to
suggest she is a cold-blooded murderess. Selena is a wreck. Moreover, she
refuses to give up the truth about Lucas raping her, believing the truth will
destroy Ted’s love for her. Having come home for the trial, Allison delays
Constance’s attempts at a reunion, but takes the witness stand in Selena’s
defense.
Acting as
Selena’s attorney, Charles Partridge (Staats
Cotsworth) does not believe her chances for an acquittal are good. But Selena
has sworn Doc Swain to secrecy regarding the rape. However, when Constance
breaks down on the witness stand in Selena’s defense, Swain bravely assures her
she did what she had to do. Stirred by the hypocrisy in these words; Doc Swain
breaks his own pledge of silence to Selena for her sake, revealing Lucas’
signed letter of confession as evidence he has kept locked in his office safe
these many years. Swain also admonishes the town for their duplicity in forcing
a young girl to remain silent for fear of becoming a social outcast. His words
cut deep, but they also ring true. Armed with the facts, the judge (Tom
Greenway) reads the jury’s verdict of ‘not
guilty’ by reason of self-defense. Ted rushes to Selena’s side and together
with Doc Swain they make ready to meet the prejudices of the crowd waiting
outside. Instead, Selena discovers the town only too willing to comfort and
welcome her back from her silent ordeal. After the verdict, Rossi takes
Constance home, their arrival interrupted by Allison’s impromptu appearance –
finally forgiven her mother’s indiscretions – and Norman, who we are led to
presume will become Allison’s husband at some later date. Peyton Place’s finale is a tad too optimistic for all that has
transpired before it; Allison’s voice-over epitaph of forgiveness ringing as
preachy and ever so slightly insincere. Still, the bulk of the film clings
together with such moody magnificence, we can almost forgive this tacked on
resolution.
Besides,
placed in its proper context Peyton
Place – both as a novel and a movie – was the divining rod for deconstructing
the repressive 1950’s. The picture’s infrequent bouts of awkwardness are more a
product of these times and the production code than a flaw in any of the
performances given. Consider the scene where Allison and Norman go up to a
favorite hiding spot; a barren hillside overlooking the whole of the town with
a bird’s eye view. Allison vertically rests against a rather large bolder;
Norman pressing against the same rock and just above her as they exchange
flirtatious bits of dialogue. Yet censorship was so stringent, Norman and
Allison could not even be allowed their moment together on a horizontal plain –
even fully clothed; the Hayes Office ridiculously believing such an angle would
suggest a prelude to intercourse. Later, when Norman and Allison prepare for
their ‘legitimate’ swim, she confides
his gaze is making her blush ‘all over’.
Yes – exactly what it means. But it is about as close as we get to actual lust.
Potentially, there may be a lot of sex taking place in this fictional hamlet;
but all of it is kept behind tightly locked doors. Even the more adult
‘romance’ between Constance and Rossi is marred by Lana Turner’s frequently
panged expressions; presumably signifiers to hot-blooded lust denied, and Lee
Philips’ lengthy pledges of respectful manhood; a sort of subversive mindf_ck
to get Constance to admit she pulsates with the same erotic urges he has for
her. Sex in the movies: it was a problem then. It’s still a problem now; only
today’s filmmakers have resolved to show us everything, thus managing to lay
(pun intended) the specters of post-coital shame and regret at our feet on the
altar of lowbrow snuff masquerading as pop art. Tragically, neither of these
absolutes proves effective on the big screen. Too little, and we are not
entirely certain if love is the answer, or merely, a curse. Too much, and love
seems to take the proverbial backseat to the mechanics of an act already well
known to most anyone having graduated to long pants. Still, Peyton
Place has its moments; enough of them to sustain our renewed interest in
these conflicted characters and their sordid lives.
In its initial
release, Peyton Place went on to
gross $25,600,000 in the U.S. – a sizable hit, compounded by its nine Academy
Award nominations. For a very brief wrinkle in time, Jerry Wald and Mark Robson
likely viewed this as a complete vindication of their hard-won battles along
the way to bring this story to the big screen. For her part, Grace Metalious
thought the picture unsatisfactory at best. It perhaps amused her to see the
more obvious exploits she had written about distilled into precisely the sort
of hypocritical ‘wink and nudge’ she so daringly aimed to dismantle with her
prose in the first place. Deriding her critics, Metalious observed, “If I'm a lousy writer, then an awful lot of
people have lousy taste…even Tom Sawyer had a girlfriend, and to talk about
adults without talking about their sex drives is like talking about a window
without glass.” Unfortunately, Peyton
Place holds the dubious distinction, along with 1977’s The Turning Point and 1985’s The
Color Purple for being the most nominated movie never to win a single
Oscar. Nevertheless, there was enough smoke in this fire to warrant a sequel.
And in 1961, Fox attempted a Return to
Peyton Place; not nearly as successful as its predecessor. The plot was
resurrected once more; this time as a soap opera on ABC. It ran from 1964 to
1969 and is credited with giving Mia Farrow and Ryan O’Neal their starts in
showbiz. But it is this original movie, full of glam, guts and gas that
continues to hold a soft spot in so many hearts; a charming and mostly
effective relic from another time. Tragically, Metalious’ own reputation has
not weathered the years as well. Succumbing to cirrhosis of the liver at the
age of 39, she was as wistfully frank as ever, saying “If I had to do it over again it would be easier to be poor. Before I
was successful, I was as happy as anyone gets.” Leaving everything to her
most recent lover, John Rees, a struggle between surviving family for the
rights to her last will and testament revealed an even sadder truth: despite having
been heralded as ‘Pandora in Blue Jeans’
and earning a reputable salary for five novels, Metalious’ estate was only
worth $41,174; thanks to her high living/drinking, her generosity to ‘friends’
and a devious agent, who managed to syphon off a good deal of her earnings.
Hence, at the time of her death, Metalious owed more than $200,000. And I
suspect here is a story still waiting to be told; one Metalious would have
likely relished exposing, had she lived to tell the tale.
Fox Home
Video’s DVD from 2001 was pretty lousy. So, frankly, Peyton Place on Blu-ray really had nowhere to go but up…sort of. Colors are vibrant, sometimes oddly so: blood
red graduation gowns that leap off the screen and a blue bias that, at times
seems overpowering and artificial. The green foliage is emerald, and briefly
featured yellows and oranges also tend to dazzle the eye in ways not entirely
indigenous to the source. DeLuxe color was not usually this intense and I have
no doubt some serious digital tinkering has been applied to get the palette to
pop as it does herein. That said, and with the caveat that Peyton Place in hi-def probably did not look like this when it was
originally screened in 1957, the overall spectrum is ‘pleasing’ and will,
except for the aforementioned examples, likely not distract from one’s viewing
pleasure. Besides, it is light years ahead of the ugly, muddy bluish/black and
otherwise seriously faded presentation Fox Home Video afforded Peyton Place on DVD. So, blessings of a
sort are in order, I suppose. Grain is perfect, and contrast relatively
pleasing. This Blu-ray is sourced from a single strand negative with prints
intermittently used to fill in the gaps. Some serious digital manipulations
have gone into homogenizing these discrepancies and create a visual consistency
to bridge these disparate source materials. Overall, it’s a success with minor
fluctuations duly noted. As per the audio: it is 5.1 DTS, presumably mixed from
the original magnetic 4-track Cinemascope stereo. I say, ‘presumably’ because there are subtle variances throughout, with
dialogue mostly front and center, but with exceptions paid to a few scenes
where directionalized microphones follow a character from left to right (or
vice versa) across the screen.
Franz Waxman’s
score sounds positively lush. But for shame, TT has not furnished us with an
isolated score, usually their modus operandi. In lieu of this, we get a newly
recorded audio commentary from filmmaker/historian, Willard Carroll; also a
puff piece featurette from Carroll – mere addendums to the extras originally
featured on Fox’s DVD: a notable audio commentary from Terry Moore and Russ
Tamblyn; a badly worn episode from Fox’s forgettable ‘Hollywood Backstory’ on the making of the movie. I will just go on
record with a general complaint: that I never quite understood how ‘Hollywood Backstory’ became a series.
Most of the episodes I have seen are just a compendium of sound bites from
surviving cast and crew intercut with snippets from the movie itself: no real
insight provided by Kevin Burns’ narration and no wealth of ‘backstory’ either. We also get a pair of Fox Movietone newsreels
– very brief – and theatrical trailers. Bottom line: Peyton Place is a cultural touchstone in so many ways, I really
cannot applaud Fox for not giving it a broader release with all the bells and
whistles it so justly deserves. Twilight Time’s Blu-ray is a must have for
hardcore movie lovers. But get it while you can. With only 3000 copies
afforded, once it’s gone, it’s gone! Buy today. Treasure forever. Or be stuck
with Fox’s lackluster DVD (out of print, but still readily available from
Amazon sellers).
FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)
4
VIDEO/AUDIO
4
EXTRAS
2.5
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