NOT AS A STRANGER: Blu-ray (UA, 1955) Kino Lorber

There is a moment in Stanley Kramer’s Not As a Stranger (1955) when shut-in rummy, Job Marsh (Lon Chaney Jr.) tells his big-boned son, Lucas (Robert Mitchum) he doesn’t think he has what it will take to make a good physician. Never mind Lucas has just discovered his old man has squandered the monies his late mother set aside for him to continue medical school. Now, this teary lush looks upon his offspring with such sad-eyed contempt, it’s all that Lucas can keep from knocking Job silly. It’s tough enough forging one’s way in the world when familial compassion for our dreams and aspirations is at our side.  Without it, we step into a very bleak abyss indeed. And in essence, the remaining 2 hr. and 15 min’s of Not As a Stranger will be a litmus test of Lucas’ struggle to crawl out from under this anvil of parental disappointment. It won’t be easy. Lucas has built a wall around his heart – actually, more like a fortress – to keep even his well-wishers, like fellow resident, Alfred Boone (Frank Sinatra) and soon-to-be wife, Kristina Hedvigson (Olivia de Havilland) at bay. Not As a Stranger is based on Morton Thompson’s posthumously published, best-selling potboiler. In addition to several volumes of short stories, the author was also the ‘inventor’ of the Thompson turkey – a moniker I could easily apply to this movie adaptation of his work.

For although cribbing from Edna and Edward Anhalt’s screenplay (effectively to divide Thompson’s sprawling prose into two distinct acts, each with a rather lackluster denouement) Stanley Kramer's strides to balance the drama of a doctor’s ‘life and death’ calling to cure the sick with his highly personal – and fast unraveling nightmare on the home front – Not As a Stranger steadily devolves into precisely the sort of pulpy trash fiction that could make even the likes of Elinor Glyn blush with ‘oh please’ embarrassment.  I suppose we can forgive the otherwise forthright and legendary Kramer his film maker’s faux pas herein. It’s his first picture, and while hardly his best, Not As a Stranger is not without merit. Chiefly, we doff our caps to the cast; Frank Sinatra – fresh from his rebound after his Oscar-winning turn in From Here to Eternity (1953), playing the noble conscience of the piece; Olivia de Havilland, almost pulling off this old maid Swede (although I confess, at times I expected her to burst into a Rose Nylund-styled ‘back in St. Olaf’ yarn) and Bob Mitchum, at times unable to entirely shed his legendary ‘noir’ anti-hero/tough guy trappings to be wholly believable as this driven Albert Schweitzer.

Three notable bit parts round out our viewing pleasure. First, is Broderick Crawford’s caustic Dr. Aarons – constantly pulling in the reins and cracking the whip over the heads of these pupils of medicine, reminding the young, aspiring and uncharacteristically cynical that to be great they must first set aside both ego and avarice. The patient’s the thing, gentlemen! That’s good advice for today’s students of medicine too. Next, is Charles Bickford’s benevolent country gent, Dr. Dave W. Runkleman; a true physician who lives by the Hippocratic Oath, serving the constituents of rural Greenville. Finally, in the thankless part of town slut, Gloria Grahame manages the most of Harriet Lang – a rich widow and notorious man trap who has her way with every man. The widow Lang’s big seduction of Dr. Marsh is laughable; Kramer, juxtaposing inserts of Harriet’s frisky filly and Marsh’s fiery stallion breaking through their fenced barriers as Lucas takes Harriet into his beefy arms for a full-throttled and totally out of focus sloppy wet kiss. Oh, what hoops (and poops) the Production Code used to make of film makers aspiring to express such unbridled passion!

Our story begins in Lucas’ second year of medical school. His is a brilliant mind, but as Job fears, a heart as black as the night. Lucas is not evil – just unfeeling; quite unable to appreciate human frailty as anything but a sinful weakness to which he absolutely refuses to succumb. Hence, when Lucas discovers his derelict father has spent all the monies his late mother allocated for his schooling on booze and gambling, Lucas is incensed and confrontational. He stops just short of smacking around his old man; instead, to leave the drunk ruminating in self-pity inside his squalid little apartment. Without tuition, Lucas will be forced to quit school and get a real job. Not the worst thing that could happen to a young man, though devastating and hateful to his own ego nonetheless. Begging for the necessary funds to continue, Lucas is reluctantly given a small stipend from Dr. Aarons, who sternly cautions him that perhaps a time away from the college will build his moral fiber and character. Instead, Lucas plays a cruel wild card. The older nurse, Kristina ‘Kris’ Hedvigson has had her eye on him for some time and Lucas knows it. She does not appeal to him sexually at all. But now, Lucas sells himself romantically to this elder Florence Nightingale. Reluctantly suspecting he is likely after her money to continue his education, Kris marries Lucas anyway. Wealthy student, Alfred Boone his disgusted by this grotesque turn of events. Kris is a good woman and a dedicated professional. She deserves better. She deserves true love.

For the moment, Lucas plays his cards close to his chest. The marriage, while perhaps not ideal, is nevertheless pleasant, minus all the fire and music newlyweds ought to exercise on their first time out. Kris is not entirely naïve, and yet she cannot bring herself to realize the man she has married is not in love with her. Despite their middle-class affluence – afforded entirely on Kris’ hard-earned savings – Lucas grows increasingly displeased with Kris and his home life. The couple increasingly quarrel over Kris’ desire to start a family. Upon graduation, Lucas elects to move the couple to the bucolic hamlet of Greenville where he can begin his practice as a big man in a small hospital, alongside Dr. Runkleman. The offer made to Lucas has included a modest home and a car. Having given up her job to become Lucas’ wife full-time, Kris discovers she is even more isolated and alone. Lucas spends long hours at the hospital; Kramer, effectively running through several cleverly executed montages that illustrate Runkleman and Lucas’ daily gauntlet of ailments to be met with their discretionary remedies.

Lucas in introduced to the sultry widow, Harriet Lang, presently dating blowhard attorney at law, Ben Cosgrove (Jesse White). Sparks immediately fly. But Lucas suppresses the urge to act upon his more dishonorable intentions…at least, for the moment. After a long day’s practice, Lucas, Kris and Dr. Runkleman retreat to a local club for dinner and dancing. Alas, Harriet is also there with Ben, and, upon joining their party, Ben – more than slightly inebriated – gives Lucas an earful about doctors. Kris senses Lucas’ attraction to Harriet. But without proof, all she can do is look on as Lucas and Harriet share an innocuous spin around the dance floor. Later, Kris pitches the idea once again: it is time Lucas considered starting a family. Instead, Lucas feigns being exhausted from a long day’s work and goes directly to bed – alone. As far as he is concerned, there will be no pitter-patter of little feet about the Marsh household any time soon – if ever. Kris confides in Alfred. She is already pregnant with Lucas’ child. Alfred is sympathetic and encourages Kris to tell her husband about the baby post haste. But Kris has wisely deduced this would end any waning chance they may have for happiness.

At work, pressures begin to mount. Lucas is constantly at odds with the Director of the Hospital, Dr. Clem Snider (Myron McCormick) who infrequently subs in as a fairly incompetent anesthesiologist. The man is a screw up. Everyone, including Runkleman knows it. Lucas has no use for Snider and bears his fangs on several occasions, including an instance where Snider elects to let an elderly patient die, simply because he is old. Lucas calls in his wife to assist and together they save the dying patient’s life. Meanwhile, Lucas and the widow Lang share a clandestine flagrante delicto behind the barn adjacent Harriet’s palatial home. Afterward, Lucas returns to his home, discovering Alfred parked out front. Al has been waiting for Lucas all afternoon and evening. Alfred informs Lucas he is going to be a father. Alas, upon re-entering his home, Lucas discovers Kris has had quite enough of him. She knows where he has been and what has occurred. Lucas begs to be forgiven. But Kris is bitter, calling out him out on their sham marriage. Lucas never loved her. He married her for the money. He isn’t interested in her now either, merely back-peddling from an affair he would rather pursue. He doesn’t want this baby. He wants his freedom to pursue medicine and the widow Lang. “So, go! Here! Now! Take your peccadilloes and your stethoscope and get out once and for all!”

Lucas moves out. Runkleman insists he is making a tactical error. And indeed, almost immediately Lucas breaks off his romantic dalliances with Harriet. Coolly, she is not the least bit miffed or disappointed by the rebuke. After all, she never really wanted Lucas…rather, just to periodically share her bed with him – stud services for a very spirited horse woman with one magnificent seat. Runkleman and Lucas grow closer. As colleagues, they see eye to eye on the follies and foibles of life. And Runkleman admires Lucas’ presumed devotion to his work. Regrettably, Runkleman suffers a ruptured aorta. Acting quickly, Lucas cracks open his friend’s chest cavity to save his life. At first, the operation goes off without a hitch. But then Lucas makes a critical error that causes Runkleman to profusely hemorrhage. He dies on the operating table. Lucas is devastated – not by his inability to save a life – but by the loss of the one truest friend he has ever known. Unable to reconcile the mistakes having brought him to this moment of absolute helplessness, a tearful Lucas finds his way back home, sincerely pleading for Kris’ guidance and understanding. Perhaps realizing Lucas has finally turned a new chapter, Kris willingly takes him back. The estranged couple embraces, each recognizing a newfound strength of character in the other.

Not As a Stranger is a clumsily stitched together claptrap of over-the-top emotions. For the most part, it plays with all the tinny corn of a standard soap opera. Stanley Kramer would find his calling as a director elsewhere, and thankfully so with such important movie classics as 1959’s On the Beach, 1960’s Inherit the Wind, 1961’s Judgment at Nuremberg, and, 1967’s Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner, among the distinguished lot. Melodrama without a message is decidedly not Kramer’s forte. Not As a Stranger suffers from Kramer’s inability to call out higher moments…even, modestly exalted impressions from life’s struggle and setbacks. The characters here simply go through the scripted machinations as ‘poor me’ wounded individuals, thwarted in love, dissatisfied in their aspirations and bitter about their lack of forward-moving trajectory to obtain ‘success’ (a word of varied interpretations).

The picture’s strengths are purely owed to its stars. In the past, I have delineated the difference between ‘stars’ and ‘celebrities’; the former, afforded respect for their body of work; the latter, largely held in place by the sordid details interminably splashed across tabloid pages. The distinction goes well beyond mere talent too, as there are many in Hollywood today in possession of this stock-in-trade commodity. But stars – real stars - acquire something else; something better, and quite inexplicably without proper definition. What makes a star a star? Presence? A uniqueness in physicality, vocal range and deportment? Well…yes. But, also, that sparkle of something intangible; an incandescence the camera alone cannot manufacture but can recognize without reservation; thereafter to augment, refine and ultimately expose ‘it’ to the world beyond the footlights. Without Mitchum, de Havilland, and Sinatra (three of Hollywood’s heaviest hitters then) – even Grahame, Crawford and Bickford, Not As a Stranger gets a ‘C’ grade for content and impact. It is the cumulative and legendary status of this alumni, then in their full flourish, able to sell even piffle as art (of a kind) that continues to draw our attention away from the imperfections in script and substance.

Kino Lorber’s Blu-ray is disappointing. MGM/Fox Home Video has not afforded this deep catalog release any love: ditto, for restoration. The B&W elements are in rough shape; exaggerated grain looks digitized rather than indigenous to its source. Fine details are oft superb, and close-ups fare better than medium or long shots. There is considerable debris imbedded in the print; dirt, scratches, chips and the occasional tear and hair caught in the lens. The grey scale is adequately realized and contrast appears on point most of the time. But honestly, this is a sloppy job at best. The DTS 1.0 mono audio fares better; well represented with crisp dialogue, never sounding strident. We get an audio commentary by film historian Troy Howarth; also, a theatrical trailer looking even more careworn than the movie. Bottom line: as a movie, for diehard fans of its stars only. For quality of 1080p transfer: pass, and be glad you did! Regrets.

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

2.5

VIDEO/AUDIO

2.5

EXTRAS

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