THE PRESIDENT'S LADY: Blu-ray (2oth Century-Fox, 1953) Twilight Time

High, wide and handsome Charleton Heston and 2oth Century-Fox’s henna-haired marvel, Susan Hayward costar in Henry Levin’s The President’s Lady (1953); a largely set-aside, though enchantingly fictionalized account of future U.S. President, Andrew Jackson’s grand amour with divorcee, Rachel Donelson. The complications writ large in John Patrick’s screenplay are based on similarly outlined circumstances in Irving Stone’s novel of the same name; herein, basically distilled into small-minded prejudices that Heston’s beefy and buck-skinned attorney at law and his cultured mistress triumph against, proving the time-honored cliché…something about ‘love’ conquering all. There is more strength of sentiment than fact in The President’s Lady – a distinct plus for the production, beautifully photographed by Leo Tover. There is, in fact, nothing about Levin’s past that might have suggested he would be the ideal candidate to shoot a ‘historical’ bio pic; Levin, begun as a Broadway actor; then, dialogue director at Columbia Pictures barely a decade earlier, and making his directorial debut with the uber-cheesy, Cry of the Werewolf (1944), starring Nina Foch.  But in The President’s Lady, Levin is directing ‘stars’ – or rather, one – Hayward – already firmly established in the cinema firmament, and the other, Heston – recently broken through to popular appeal in Cecil B. DeMille’s The Greatest Show on Earth (1952). It is oft’ suggested Chuck Heston’s capabilities as an actor veer toward humanizing larger-than-life historical figures while still lending them an aura of manly grace.

If so, he downplays this hand in The President’s Lady; refreshingly amiable and exuding a sort of breezy brawn that is impossible to dislike. As for Susan Hayward, having lumped it around Hollywood since 1937, even auditioning for the coveted part of Scarlett O’Hara under her real name - Edythe Marrenner – Hayward’s stock-in-trade had fast risen to prominence since being rejected by David O. Selznick for Gone with the Wind (1939). Moving from Warner Bros. to Paramount; then, UA and Republic, Hayward steadily built her credits on conveying the gutsy, but glamorous gal of decision, and, by the time of The President’s Lady, was already considered a beloved at Fox, thanks to co-starring roles in David and Bathsheba (1951) opposite Gregory Peck (the studio’s most popular film of the year) and With a Song in My Heart (1952), for which she lip-synced to recordings by Jane Froman to tell Froman’s harrowing life-story of courage. This latter effort earned Hayward her first Oscar nomination. For all its virtues, The President’s Lady never strains either Heston or Hayward’s acting chops as it puts them through some wonderfully staged set pieces that endear us to each of their characters.

At a mere 97 min. John Patrick’s screenplay manages the sublime achievement of creating an immersive tapestry of life. The picture takes on an epic quality without a marathon run-time, or dragging its creative heels into the mire of sanctimonious melodrama. Points about small-minded bigotry are made, even punctuated, steadily challenged by our principal players, and finally overcome. Typical of the Hollywood edict then reigning supreme, love does slay the wicked dragon of prejudice. The set-up for what follows is strictly by the numbers: ‘cute meet’ – Andrew Jackson (Charleton Heston), ridden to a settlement where his good friend and law partner, John Overton (John McIntire) resides. Andrew finds the cabins empty, but for the comely Rachel (Susan Hayward). Spying her through a window, the two are quickly acquainted; he, hitting his head on a low doorjamb and thereafter, pleasantly instructing her that every great decision he has ever made in his life was done on a Tuesday. As fate would have it, this too just happens to be a Tuesday! Accepted into the fold by Rachel’s mama (Fay Bainter), the clan, including Rachel’s siblings, Samuel (James Best), Jane (Trudy Marshall), Mary (Ann Morrison) and William (Robert B. Williams) give a party. The mood, alas, turns sour when Rachel begins to harbor affections for Andrew and vice versa. After all, Rachel is married to the easily-made-jealous, Louis Robards (Whitfield Connor). The next day, Mrs. Donelson announces at dinner Rachel has returned to live with her husband, hinting directly at the spark of chemistry she and Andrew shared the night before.

It is pretty clear Rachel’s marriage to Louis is on the rocks; his kindly mother (Margaret Wycherley), invalided and desperate for the couple to find their happiness, urging Rachel to have a baby with all speed – a son, into whom she can invest all of her love, thereby blunting the sting of this otherwise passionless union. Recognizing the terrible predicament Rachel is in, Andrew arrives at Robards’ cabin to collect and escort her safely back to the Donelson’s compound. Louis attempts to hold Andrew at gunpoint, but is thwarted in his mislaid gallantry. Andrew and Rachel leave on horseback, but are momentarily accosted by Indians. Rachel’s successful retreat comes with a threat; Louis, promising never to give her up without a fight. In reply, the Donelson’s aid Rachel and Andrew to escape along the river where they encounter more Indian attacks. In Natchez, Rachel is welcomed by her Aunt Sarah (Juanita Evers) and Col. Green (Selmer Jackson) – given a grand introduction to ‘polite society’. Regrettably, small minds persist.  Gossip abounds. Rachel is a wanton woman! Nevertheless, Andrew implores his beloved to reconsider their happiness together. Having sacrificed so much, they cannot give up now. After Louis petitions for a divorce, Andrew and Rachel are wed. Alas, after two years of seemingly blissful marriage, John arrives with terrible news: Louis never did get a divorce. He merely petitioned the courts for a separation. Thus, Andrew and Rachel’s marriage is null and void.

Aiming to remarry Rachel with all speed, Andrew quickly discovers it will not be an easily accepted union. Indeed, Rachel’s brother, Alfred (Linus Aaberg) is found by a small contingent of town’s folk loyal to Andrew, murdered by the side of the road, on his way to attend their wedding. And Andrew too is forced to defend Rachel’s honor with a display of fisticuffs after crude remarks are made about her fidelity in public. Despite seemingly insurmountable adversities, Andrew and Rachel are wed a second time and begin their family. We fast track through these early years of with Rachel’s narration. While Andrew is away, establishing his reputation in Congress, Rachel and her expanded brood live at the resplendent Hermitage. Rachel is invited by local maven, Mrs. Phariss (Gladys Hurlbut) to join Nashville’s ladies culture club. She accepts, though more to honor her husband’s name. However, upon arriving at the Phariss home, Rachel is informed by Phariss the other delegates intend to resign, should she join their establishment. Retreating in humiliation, Rachel elects never again to desire the outside world’s acceptance. Instead, she invests wholeheartedly to be a gracious ‘good’ wife to Andrew whose political career is on the ascendance. From Attorney General, to Senator to General of the militia – Jackson’s popularity is impeachable. Nevertheless, even during a horse race, he is confronted by a heckler (Max Wagner) about his wife’s virtue. Challenging the man to a duel, Andrew is wounded. He recovers. Years pass. Yet, despite his finest efforts to elevate Rachel’s stature, no reprieve ever comes for her reputation. Now, sickly and old, and on the cusp of Andrew’s bid for the White House, Rachel quietly dies in her husband’s arms, seemingly of a broken heart. Andrew vows to forgive their enemies. On the day of his inaugural, as the crowds wildly cheer, we hear Andrew’s quiet thoughts – always of Rachel – and witness a montage; a most beloved recollection of his late wife.

The President’s Lady is an affecting, if largely fictional account of these formative years. While the title suggests a typical ‘woman’s weepy’, the picture is actually more of a frontier drama and intimate portrait of two, character studies – one, only known to the masses from his depiction on the U.S. twenty-dollar bill. Levin’s movie succeeds at tugging at our heartstrings, thanks to a sentimental score by Fox’s resident composer, Alfred Newman, whose prolific career remains one of the awe-inspiring cornerstones in Hollywood lore. The on-screen chemistry between Heston and Hayward makes for a sublime romance, enriched beyond mere passionate embraces and sloppy wet kisses. Evidently, the bond between our stars extended to a lifelong friendship, predicated on mutual respect. And while Heston and Hayward would both go on to have independently prolific movie careers (Hayward, winning the Oscar for 1958’s I Want To Live; Heston, following with a Best Actor statuette for Ben-Hur the following year), both stars were already burning brightly in this seemingly disposable entertainment made several years before their true flourish of success. As a postscript, during the 1974 annual Oscar telecast, Hayward and Heston were reunited as presenters for the coveted Best Actress statuette; Hayward, bent and fragile, using the podium as support in a glittery gown by Nolan Miller and wig to conceal the ravages of the inoperable brain cancer that would soon claim her. Heston, as ever tall and proud, escorted Hayward across the stage to a standing ovation while pensive attendants waited backstage with a wheelchair to hurry her home immediately thereafter. It was, alas, the last hurrah. Susan Hayward died on March 14, 1975, age 57.

The President’s Lady arrives on Blu-ray via Twilight Time’s association with the former Fox Home Video. Image quality easily bests Fox’s previously released DVD.  There are no noticeable imperfections, age-related artifacts all but eradicated. This is a gorgeous hi-def image, sporting superior tonality in its gray scale, excellent contrast, a ton of fine detail, and, a light smattering of film grain, looking very indigenous to its source. Easily put – nothing to complain about. The DTS 1.0 mono is solid, clear dialogue and unusual bombast in some of the music cues. Once again, TT has padded out the extras with an isolated music track, showcasing Alfred Newman’s superb underscore in all its glory. We also get a vintage radio broadcast of The President’s Lady with Chuck Heston reprising his role, only now opposite Joan Fontaine.  Finally, Julie Kirgo weighs in with 8-pages of meaningful reflection.  The President’s Lady represents Hollywood’s finest efforts from a vintage that is lost to us for all time now. Thankfully, movies like this endure and are being curated for future generations to admire, appreciate and study. Bottom line: very highly recommended!

FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)

3.5

VIDEO/AUDIO

4.5

EXTRAS

1