DODSWORTH: Blu-ray (Samuel Goldwyn, 1936) Warner Archive

I really can think of no other movie that so completely addresses a human frailty shared by some women, in their grave unwillingness to grow old gracefully, to the detriment of their own happiness, then William Wyler’s immaculately turned out, Dodsworth (1936). Ruth Chatterton gives her finest performance as Fran, the age-obsessed wife of leading industrialist, Samuel Dodsworth (the spectacular Walter Huston), caught in a desperate, pleasure-seeking maelstrom of her own design, certain to destroy what contentment she might have found in the arms of the one man who truly loves her best. Based on Sinclair Lewis’s 1929 novel, Dodsworth is a sublime critique of a marriage in crisis, made at the height of a decade unaccustomed to such jaundice views of superficially contented and affluent couples. Indeed, the crises of the thirties had bigger fish to fry. And the movies were generally bent of celebrating the joys of living – momentarily mislaid in the struggles of life, circa this period.  So, Dodsworth remains not only an intelligent meditation on the intimate details of love lost – nee, sacrificed - between people who should have entered their emeritus years on a united front, but also a sober reminder that no life is a garden without its share of weeds.

There is a gentle, clear-headed moment in the picture when Fran, having flirted all night in mixed company with cultured playboy, Arnold Iselin (Paul Lukas), and in the presence of her husband, who mildly tolerates her need to be thought of as young and desirable by other men, is quietly approached by the much-traveled, and as mature in years, Edith Cortright (Mary Astor, never better). With the most gracious sincerity and resolve, Edith gently stares Fran down before simply, even eloquently, offering her curt bit of advice – “Don’t!”  Fraught with kindness and a certain accomplished self-purpose, as indeed, Edith has seen something of Europe and its slick and stylish Lochinvars, the exchange is naturally taken as an insult by the less romantically accomplished Fran, as it has managed to strip naked her base intentions she otherwise thought had been taken, merely, as harmless and playful.  Dodsworth is riddled in such frank reveals about the not-so-subtle art of seduction – games, men and women play for the unadorned purpose of landing one another into their respective beds. Given the stringency of Hollywood’s self-governing Code of Ethics, Dodsworth is remarkably astute about such observations as well as addressing the consequences of an ‘adult’ dalliance. And although it obviously glamorizes the milieu our central protagonists find themselves in – the bulk of the population more inclined to be found in bread lines and soup kitchens than those magnificently plush and cavernous staterooms aboard an uber-posh luxury liner, or the various dazzling and glittery European ports of call, explored from the confines of sound stages and rear-projection process plates subbing in for the resplendence of France, Austria, and Italy – Dodsworth takes a very common, very ethical tale of spousal infidelity, and manages, ostensibly without much exaggeration to deconstruct the circumstances derailing this already fractured marriage.  

Indeed, when we first meet Sam Dodsworth, he is staring wistfully from his deco offices on 20-years of his life’s work as an automotive manufacturer in the mid-western town of Zenith. Having only just inked a deal, in which he has effectively sold his privately-run business to a rising competitor that, in fact, made him an offer to remain on as Vice President, with a hearty bonus and yearly salary that, even by today’s standards would appear enviable, Dodsworth has instead chosen to leave the company entirely. Sam’s decision is predicated, not so much on what he would have wished to do, but at the behest of his spoiled wife, Fran, who is eager to discover the true meaning of life while she is still young enough to pursuit happiness on her own terms. The definition of what constitutes ‘happiness’ will change as time wears on. But in the immediate present, it translates into the Dodsworths sailing on the Queen Mary for London, and then, a whirlwind tour of the European capitals. The couple’s closest friends, Matey (Spring Byington) and Tubby Pearson (Harlan Briggs) are cautiously opposed to this extended respite; Tubby, more so, as he believes Sam is giving up a golden opportunity as one of America’s leading industrialists; a man with a vision to see the nation through these tough times.

Unable to dissuade Sam from sailing, even after he has exposed his truest feelings about Fran – as a selfish and destructive influence – Tubby gives his best friend his blessing, along with Sam’s daughter, Emily (winsome and ever charming, Kathryn Marlow) and her new husband, Harry (the impossibly handsome, John ‘Howard’ Payne). Having made their first faux pas, at Fran’s request, by ‘dressing’ formally for dinner, the Dodsworths are introduced to shipboard lover, Captain Lockert (David Niven) who wastes no time squiring Fran around the dance floor and to dinners and luncheons while Sam becomes rather fascinated with the inner workings of the ship on his first Atlantic crossing. Amused by his freshness to embrace these new experiences, Sam meets Edith Cortright. The two share a casual, and platonic acquaintance even as the relationship between Lockert and Fran begins to transgress into very murky romantic waters. At one point, Lockert corners Fran in her stateroom, attempting to turn up the heat of his amorous intentions. As she resists, Lockert indelicately suggests while Fran is in London she not ‘start’ anything she is unwilling to finish – the implication being, she is ill-experienced in the ways of the flesh and has played him for a fool which – of course – she has. Insulted by his bluntness, Fran begs Sam’s forgiveness, even crying on his shoulder. Aware of what has been going on, but also secure in the knowledge Fran would never be unfaithful to him, Sam is more than willing to let bygones be bygones.

At Fran’s insistence, they skip London to spare her the embarrassment of running into Lockert again, and go on to Paris. There, Sam spends all his time touring museums and other cultural points of interest while Fran quietly slips into old habits, befriending the affluent, Renée De Penable (Odette Myrtil) who introduces her to the aristocratic, Arnold Iselin. Easily smitten with Arnold, Fran permits their friendship to blossom into flirtatious rendezvous. Fran even shamelessly trifles with Arnold in mixed company and, in the presence of her husband. Meanwhile, Sam and Edith have remained good friends. She informs him this is where their time together must end, as Sam and Fran are going ahead to Vienna, while she is returning to the small, but fashionable villa she rents in the south of Italy. Shortly thereafter, the Dodsworths arrive in Austria’s capital.  Aware of just how far Fran’s infatuation with Arnold has progressed, Sam invites his wife’s enterprising lover to their hotel suite to confront the pair on exactly what they intend to do about it.  And although all three behave with the utmost decorum, Sam blatantly lays his cards on the table – resulting in Arnold’s temporary withdrawal from this awkward situation. In his absence, Fran is introduced to Kurt Von Obersdorf (Gregory Gaye), a man much younger than she, but who, nevertheless, falls madly for her. Alas, his aged mother, the Baroness (Maria Ouspenskaya) does not share her son’s affinity for this potential daughter-in-law, and not only because she is still married to Sam.  

Having revealed her intention to marry Kurt, Sam graciously bows out, setting sail for home, to be with Emily, who has recently given birth to their first grandchild. Sam had wanted to set sail much earlier, to be there ahead of the new arrival.  Alas, once again, Sam acquiesced to Fran’s wishes to stay abroad, quite unaware she had already fallen for Kurt. Now, he returns home to convalesce. Despondent and unable to find peace even among his family and friends, Sam consults Matey on what he should do next. She respectfully encourages him to seek out his truest understanding; if, what remains of his marriage is worth salvaging. Meanwhile, the Baroness is cruel in her admonishment of Fran, whom she deems much too old to bear Kurt children. Besides, there are grave religious ramifications to consider if Kurt weds a divorcee. Deeply wounded by the Baroness’ refusal, Fran tries to get in contact with Sam.  Alas, he has already sailed back to Europe; this time, to Italy, where he is reunited with Edith quite by accident. She inspires Sam to pursue his dreams of establishing a new company for intercontinental travel, and blissfully moves him into her villa. The two share a few lazy weeks together, making plans for the future when a phone call comes from Vienna. Fran is desperate to have Sam back. Begrudgingly, he abandons all his future hopes with Edith to set sail for America. However, even as Sam and Fran are reunited aboard ship, he recognizes she will never change.  Her mad obsession to be forever young has irrevocably wrecked their chances at happiness. Sam bids his wife goodbye for the last time, removing himself and his luggage from the ship, even as it is preparing to set sail.  Instead, he charters a small boat and returns to Edith’s villa where she ecstatically welcomes him with open arms.

In 1934, Walter Huston appeared in a Broadway production of Dodsworth adapted by brilliant stage/screen dramatist, Sidney Howard (who would also author the movie’s screenplay). The Broadway derivative costarred Fay Bainter as Fran. For the film, Huston tweaked his performance, allowing the character’s subtler angst to shine through, exorcising the tug-o-war between Sam’s illustrated compassion for Fran, and, the emasculating humiliation derived from his inability to make a clean break of their failed marriage. At the time of shooting, Mary Astor’s real-life and rather notorious extra-marital affair with dramatist, George S. Kaufman, had become public knowledge in a very nasty trial. To avoid the press, who were camped all around her house, Astor set up temporary living quarters in her private dressing room bungalow at the studio, shooting the picture by day/appearing in court sessions each evening. Viewed today, Dodsworth endures as a superior example of the Broadway to Hollywood hybrid melodrama, splendidly defined in all departments for maximum effect. What was largely an episodic stagecraft has been cleverly blended into a free-flowing narrative; director, William Wyler’s light touch, and attention to the humanity of the piece brilliantly shining through. In the end, it is the layering of emotions each star brings to this textured human tragedy that holds up with the passage of time. Dodsworth is an immortal among the silver screen’s great works. It has not aged. More than likely, it never will.

Meticulously restored and remastered in 4K with monies afforded from various sources to the Film Foundation, Dodsworth arrives on Blu-ray via the Warner Archive.  Despite its meticulous remastering, the image retains a rather diffused quality that I am not entirely certain is in keeping with Rudolph Maté’s original cinematography. Long and medium shots can appear quite soft, with a loss of fine detail, while close-ups are very impressively rendered. The tonality of the gray scale is excellent throughout and film grain has been accurately reproduced. I was a little disheartened to detect pixelization and edge enhancement spread throughout this presentation.  Occasionally, these anomalies draw attention to themselves, even momentarily manipulating the film’s grain structure to appear digitally harsh. Overall, what is here is a vast improvement over anything Dodsworth has looked like on home video. But the image is far from perfect and that alone, particularly when considering all the money, time, efforts and strides made to resurrect these surviving elements from near oblivion, seems, marginally to yield disappointing results. Don’t get me wrong. I sincerely enjoyed this home video presentation. It looks much better than it ever has. But could it have looked even better? Ostensibly, ‘yes’. The audio is 1.0 DTS mono and sounds good, if, within the limitations of vintage Westrex sound. Unforgivable for a movie of such cultural significance – there are NO extras: not even an audio commentary. For shame!  Bottom line: recommended with caveats.

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

5+

VIDEO/AUDIO

3

EXTRAS

0