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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