MAGNIFICENT OBSESSION: Blu-ray (Universal-International, 1954) Criterion

In the mid-1950’s Douglas Sirk, maestro extraordinaire of the soapish melodrama, began mining Hollywood’s back catalog of crowd-pleasing weepies, transforming them into – in retrospect – even more luridly over-the-top pop-operas whose garish gush of sentiment knew no bounds. So, perhaps lacking originality, Sirk tapped into doing a remake of Magnificent Obsession (1954) – plush and padded, and altogether a syrupy update of director, John M. Stahl’s 1935 woman’s pic’ of the same name. Stahl’s career went all the way back to the dawn of cinema, and was to include an impressive roster of ‘woman’s pictures’ by the time he retired in 1949, including Imitation of Life (1934); also, remade by Sirk in 1959. Both movie versions of Magnificent Obsession are loosely based on a 1929 novel by Congregationalist pastor, Lloyd C. Douglas; love, convoluted by religious fervor and mutilated Christianity, rather ingeniously wrapped in the more marketable conventions of the romance novel. Owing to the fifties’ rather restrained view of religion, Sirk’s reincarnation of the novel on celluloid skirts any direct social commentary linking devoutness to God with Dr. Phillips’ charity. So, this one involves a rich playboy who discovers ‘enlightenment’ by way of his unanticipated commitment to a good woman he has initially wronged. The remake of Magnificent Obsession foregoes the Bible-beating but remains a near carbon-copy of Stahl’s B&W classic, with the added virtues of Technicolor and widescreen to augment Sirk’s boundless overflow of glamorized sentimentality. Aside: personally, I have never warmed to Sirk’s Herculean hand-wringing, which oft translates into glossy goo; a distinct clash between hyper-realism and Hollywood-ized artifice run amok. So, it is saying a great deal that I find Magnificent Obsession the most palpable and engaging of Sirk’s melodramatic monstrosities. Sirk appears, if not to have ‘reformed’ his style, then decidedly to have reigned it in with finite precision to tell a good story.
With its lush Lake Tahoe locales and Director of Photography, Russel Metty’s immaculate use of Technicolor, Magnificent Obsession proved intoxicating eye candy for audiences – enough to shield its narrative shortcomings from most fans, and, oddly enough, many of the critics, who thought it a splendid entertainment.  Jane Wyman, Oscar-nominated no less, took over from 1935’s Irene Dunne as Helen Phillips – a woman ‘literally’ blinded by love, with muscular fifties’ beefcake, Rock Hudson assuming the role of the arrogant and self-serving Bob Merrick, originally envisioned by thirties’ pretty boy, Robert Taylor. Hudson and Sirk had just completed shooting on the B-budgeted actioner, Taza, Son of Cochise (1954) that would do absolutely nothing to advance Hudson’s career. Relatively new to pictures, Hudson’s inauspicious start as a C-grade hunk for hire was about to receive a major boost with the release of Magnificent Obsession in much the same way Robert Taylor’s movie career was ably abetted by starring in Stahl’s original. Both Taylor and Hudson went on to have respective careers for decades to follow – each, playing up their Hollywood heartthrob status until the inevitability of age and destiny caught up to them. Hunk – it’s a young man’s game. Once the die is cast, the pall of its reputation is hard to challenge and virtually impossible to overcome.
Early in its incubation, Magnificent Obsession encountered a series of setbacks that would ultimately result in cast changes for the better. Charles Bickford was slated for the pivotal role of the artist/friend, Randolph. Alas, just prior to preparing their shoot, both Sirk and Wyman became deathly ill, while Rock Hudson incurred a back injury that effectively put all three principles out of commission for longer than Bickford had planned. And although Bickford’s agent, the star, and, the powers that be at Universal-International had come to a verbal ‘understanding’, even going so far as to announce it in the trades, Bickford quietly withdrew from this commitment to accept a supporting role in George Cukor’s 1954’s remake of A Star is Born instead. In their mad rush to find a last minute ‘suitable’ replacement, the studio landed on free-lance character actor, Otto Kruger, who proved a noble adjunct. As Sirk had yet to fully recover from the flu, he placed his confidence in utility director, Joseph Pevney to photograph early tests of Barbara Rush, Rock Hudson, Agnes Moorehead, Jane Wyman, Gigi Perreau, Donna Corcoran, and Sheila James.  Viewing these rushes, Sirk then picked out Corcoran, Hudson and Judy Nugent, given more extensive screen tests by Pevney, photographed at Lake Arrowhead in Cinemascope; the ultra-widescreen process, then under consideration. Evidently, Sirk disapproved of ‘scope’s’ early limitations and Universal accommodated by allowing Sirk to shoot Magnificent Obsession in their own patented ‘flat’ widescreen process of 2:1.
By the time he set foot in front of the cameras to star in Magnificent Obsession Rock Hudson was already a veteran of 26 motion pictures. Even so, he had, as yet, to come into his own and, according to co-star, Jane Wyman, was a veritable bundle of nerves, necessitating many retakes during their romantic scenes together. Precisely how much of Hudson’s flubbing was just the jitters of carrying a star role, or, weighed by Hudson’s intense concern to keep his gay lifestyle a secret, remains debatable. What is well-documented is Hudson’s congenial warmth and great respect for Wyman. Years later, approaching Wyman at a party, Hudson acknowledge, “You were nice to me when you didn't have to be, and I want you to know that I thank you and love you for it.” Hudson’s anxiety may have inadvertently contributed to the beautifully understated performance he renders in Magnificent Obsession; a he-man with brains as well as brawn, the reformation of Bob Merrick, from reckless/feckless playboy to compassionate caregiver, wholly believable. And it should be noted too that the arc of Wyman’s Helen is superbly realized – Wyman, gently evolving her character from the happy housewife, to bitter and fallen widow, and finally, rehabilitated lover, able to embrace life’s renewable pleasures emerging from the fallow years of pain.
In Sirk’s remake we meet self-centered and arrogant rogue, Bob Merrick (Rock Hudson), a rudderless bon vivant whose charm and drop-dead good looks make him disposable eye candy with a daredevil’s streak in lieu of ambition. Alas, Merrick’s lack of character and split-second inability to gauge a turn while racing his speedboat results in a horrific accident.  First responders send for the nearest resuscitator, located in Dr. Phillips’ fashionable cottage just across the lake. As fate would have it, while the resuscitator is being employed to save Merrick’s seemingly worthless life, Dr. Phillips suffers a fatal heart attack. Having survived his ordeal, Merrick becomes a patient at Dr. Phillips’ clinic. And although he receives their top-notch treatment, most of the doctors and nurses there deeply resent him for inadvertently having caused Phillips’ death. After the funeral, Phillips’ widow, Helen (Jane Wyman) receives an outpouring of calls, letters, and, visitors, eager to pay back loans her husband refused to entertain during his lifetime. Indeed, Phillips was a true physician and philanthropist, with a passion for the work and utterly devoted to the care of his patients – whether or not they could pay for his services. Confused by her husband’s seeming lack of wealth, the situation is explained to Helen by famous artist and good friend, Edward Randolph (Otto Kruger). Phillips believed in selflessly administering his medical expertise – richly rewarded with a very successful practice and patient loyalty.
Discovering the reason behind the brewing animosity at the clinic, Merrick, perhaps for the very first time racked with guilt, tries to leave before he has fully recovered. Instead, he suffers a relapse and collapses in front of Helen’s car, winding up back in hospital. There, Helen learns Merrick’s true identity. Not long after his discharge, Merrick wallows in self-pity and reverts to his old ways, becoming intoxicated at a party and driving his car off the road not far from Randolph’s home. Clearly recognized, Randolph tries to imbue Merrick with the life philosophy that helped both he and Phillips become successful men in their respective professions. This sobers Merrick up – temporarily, and he decides to test his new-found beliefs on Helen. Alas, bitter and still reeling from her husband’s loss, Helen is unreceptive to Merrick’s advances. Inadvertently, she steps into the path of an oncoming car, is sideswiped and left blind as a result. Unable to face what he has done Merrick invests in fulfilling Dr. Phillips’ legacy by becoming a doctor himself. Having fallen hopelessly in love with Helen, Merrick now pretends to be a poor medical student – Robby – to be near Helen and help her adjust to her blindness. He also secretly arranges for Helen to attend a consultation of Europe’s finest eye surgeons. Alas, after extensive testing the general consensus is, there is no hope for recovery.
Also informed of this futility, Merrick – as Robby – arrives at Helen’s hotel suit to offer her emotional support. And although grateful for his comfort, steadily Helen begins to realize Robby and Merrick are one in the same. Unable to remain mad at Merrick, for even without the use of her eyes Helen can clearly ‘see’ the goodness in him, an unlikely romance begins, leading Merrick to a passionate proposal of marriage. Believing she would only be a burden to him, Helen elects to exit Merrick’s life forever. Although he is crestfallen by her departure, Merrick becomes even more invested in his medical studies. Years pass. Merrick, now a dedicated brain surgeon, having secretly continued his philanthropic acts as Dr. Phillips wound have, has never stopped searching for Helen – regrettably, to no avail. Then, one evening, news arrives from the unlikeliest of sources. Randolph informs Merrick that Helen, since fallen ill, may be dying in a small Southwest hospital. The men depart immediately and, upon their arrival at the hospital, Merrick learns Helen requires immediate, but very complex brain surgery to save her life. As the only qualified surgeon to perform it, Merrick agrees to the operation without Helen realizing he is near. Hours later, Helen stirs from the anesthesia, and discovers, rather optimistically, a glowing white light. This leads to a predictably tearful reunion with Merrick.
In comparing Sirk’s version with Stahl’s original one finds subtle differences worth noting. In Stahl’s version, Merrick as characterized by dashing Robert Taylor in his career-defining breakout, appears to suffer from a harder edge than Hudson’s teddy-bear-esque reincarnation. Taylor is outright cruel at the beginning of the movie, and even after he knows Phillips lost his life because of him, shows no outward signs of a disturbed conscience. By comparison, luminous Irene Dunne sustains a far more modest performance; lightly tragic, but fairly forthright and competent nonetheless. While Rock Hudson and Jane Wyman are undeniably good-looking people (arguably, even more so than Taylor and Dunne) it is their glamour that occasionally gets in the way of the melodrama is this remake. Sirk’s reliance on hyper-fantasy, plushily perfect, detracts from our appreciation of these stars as real/reel people. Instead, they appear ever more the male mannequin and movie queen, tricked out in Bill Thomas’ uber-chic costumes, with Russell Metty’s cinematography, fully indulged in a splashy cinematic palette of rainbow hues.  Magnificent Obsession’s pièce de résistance is undeniably Frank Skinner’s underscore; his central theme, inspiring a song of the same title with lyrics by Frederick Herbert. This was recorded twice: first, by The Four Lads with the Percy Faith Orchestra – then again, by Young, as an instrumental, featuring a viola solo by Anatole Kaminsky. Much of Skinner’s contributions on the score owe their inspiration to Frédéric Chopin, Beethoven and Johann Strauss II – not exactly a bad bunch of boys from which to be plagiarizing greatness.
Magnificent Obsession premiered in August, 1954, and like Sirk’s previous endeavors, was an immediate hit with audiences. Viewed today, the picture remains an undeniably handsome ‘puff piece’, hewn with tender dignity from another epoch entirely; one, when Hollywood upheld the glories and stories of love as beacons to fulfill our daydreams about what love could be, presumably with the perfect squires to light the home fires in our hearts.  Jane Wyman was Oscar-nominated, but lost the coveted Best Actress statuette to Audrey Hepburn’s debut in William Wyler’s grand romantic-fantasy, Roman Holiday – a forgivable forfeit, indeed. It has been too long since Criterion released both versions of Magnificent Obsession on DVD – 2008, to be exact. Now, comes the Blu-ray, looking marginally crisper, with ever-so-slightly refined colors and slightly improved contrast. Both versions have been transferred to separate discs with maxed out bit rates. Neither appears to be from a new remaster – although, ostensibly, there was not a whole lot wrong with the old DVD masters to begin with. So, contrast tightens up as does the overall clarity of the image with no real departures from what we have already seen on home video.
Stahl’s 1935 classic is framed in standard 1.33:1 Academy ratio, while Sirk’s remake gets an appropriate 2.0:1 Superscope release.  The B&W transfer is solid, crisp, sporting good contrast, and, is mostly free of age-related debris, although some is still present. Sirk’s Technicolor remake looks infinitely more pleasing with fully saturated hues, good tonality, a light smattering of film grain and excellent contrast. On both we get a PCM 2.0 mono audio. It’s adequate, within the limitations of vintage mono mixes.  Extras are duplicated from the aforementioned DVD release; starting with a comprehensive commentary by film scholar, Thomas Doherty who appears to be speaking ‘off the cuff’ but with copious back stories and facts at his fingertips. Great stuff.  We also get Fiction Factory tribute pieces from Alison Anders and Kathryn Bigelow. Please note: a more comprehensive piece from Anders was included on a French release of Magnificent Obsession. The excerpt featured herein is from the same, ‘A Tribute to Douglas Sirk by Allison Anders’ but is a heavily distilled version which only discusses Magnificent Obsession. Anders’ original piece covered much more. Finally, there is ‘From UFA to Hollywood: Douglas Sirk Remembers’ – from 1991, and, running 82 minutes, plus a theatrical trailer.  Bottom line: highly recommended!
FILM RATING (out of 5 - 5 being the best)
1954 version – 3
1935 version – 3

VIDEO/AUDIO

1954 version – 4
1935 version – 3.5
EXTRAS

3.5

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