I'LL CRY TOMORROW: Blu-ray (MGM, 1955) Warner Archive

Edythe Marrenner, better known to the outside world as Susan Hayward, was an interesting figure in cinema’s firmament. For although she possessed the acting chops to deliver a consistently high level of powerhouse performances throughout her illustrious career, and was as justly celebrated in her time, her reputation as an enduring Hollywood heavy-hitter and eternal icon of the silver screen has largely withered on the vine in the intervening decades. But it should be noted that without Hayward, director, Daniel Mann’s I’ll Cry Tomorrow (1955) has very little going for it, or rather, would be nothing at all in her absence. Hollywood’s long-standing edict in women’s suffrage on the screen sold tickets aplenty during the war years when the women’s picture was at its zenith. It became something of a tougher sell once the guns across the pond were silenced and the men came home from the front. So, I’ll Cry Tomorrow is really more of a wartime chestnut suited to vintage 40’s woman’s weepies than the uber-high-gloss spectacles, epics and sprawling westerns that had taken over at the box office by mid-decade.

Invalided as a child in an automobile accident, the resetting of her hip creating a distinctive gate and swivel later in life, Marrenner, nee Hayward, began her career as a model, rather ambitiously at the age of 22, auditioning for producer, David O. Selznick for the part of Scarlett O’Hara in Gone With The Wind (1939). History reveals Marrenner was actually a leading contender for the part, right behind Paulette Goddard - until Vivien Leigh turned up on the set. Mercifully, talent agent, Max Arnow saw something in the ingenue, changing her name and landing the starlet a 6-month contract at Warner Bros. where she barely appeared as background in disposable fluff. In 1939, Hayward moved to Paramount with a sizable increase in her salary, but precious little exposure. Her forties’ tenure with Paramount included loan outs as a supporting player. But at war’s end, producer, Walter Wanger signed Hayward to a 7-year contract with yet another sizable bump in her wages. This time, the gamble would paid off. Hayward earned the first of 5 Oscar nods playing an alcoholic chanteuse in 1947’s Smash-Up, the Story of a Woman, a picture ill-received by the critics, though nevertheless beloved by audiences. At the outset of the 1950’s, Hayward’s cache as a leading lady took a quantum leap. She appeared in 3 glossy spectacles at 2oth Century-Fox: David and Bathsheba (1951), With a Song in My Heart (for which she earned her second Oscar nomination) and The Snows of Kilimanjaro (both of these latter efforts made and released in 1952). Hayward was well-served by her Fox tenure, but lured from their stables on a loan out to MGM for I’ll Cry Tomorrow, based on Lillian Roth’s best-selling autobiography. It likely helped the picture Hayward bore an uncanny physical resemblance to Roth – although this is where any similarities between the two ladies ends. While Hayward’s ascendance in Hollywood is, arguably, the stuff of dreams, Roth’s descend into alcoholism was decidedly a real nightmare to survive.

Lillian Roth’s own stardom ought to have been assured. Indeed, it all came rather too easily to Roth, who lied about her age (she claimed to be 19 when she was actually only 13!), what with a 1917 Broadway show, immediately followed by her film debut a year later. By age 17, she was already a veteran stage performer, signing a 7-year contract with Paramount Pictures, later moving to Warner Bros. and still finding the time and energies to appear at New York’s Palace Theater in a live show. The booze, alas, clouded her judgement and she increasingly began to rely on husband(s) (six, all told) who pilfered her earnings and mistreated her in other ways. The Jewish-born Roth converted to Catholicism in 1948 and shortly thereafter, embarked upon a concerted effort to maintain her sobriety. She co-authored I'll Cry Tomorrow, with Gerold Frank in 1954, the property too hot for Hollywood to handle but also, much too intriguing for Tinsel Town to ignore. Regrettably, Hollywood’s self-governing Code of Ethics ensured much of Roth’s frankness regarding her harrowing plight to restore her sanity and health was left on the cutting room floor, or, in fact, never actually shot. Roth, who would write a follow-up in 1958, and continue to tirelessly appear on television and in the theater, as well as in shows in Vegas. She suffered a massive stroke in 1980 and died at the age of 69 – a survivor to the end.

I’ll Cry Tomorrow gives Susan Hayward a real ‘leg up’ in her career. It also allowed her to sing in her own voice. While Hayward was not a fan of her limited abilities as a singer, she nevertheless conceded that, at least for this picture, her throaty renditions of some of Roth’s trademarked and legendary performances was precisely what the movie needed to provide brief respites between the otherwise dramatic ballast of the story. It’s safe to suggest that without I’ll Cry Tomorrow, Hayward would likely not have been considered to star as death row inmate, Barbara Graham in I Want to Live (1958), the picture to finally earn her a Best Actress Academy Award. At the outset of her movie career, Hayward was best known for a particularly distinctive, acidic sex appeal. This eventually morphed – or rather, matured – to include a careworn authenticity toggling between disquieting unease and razor-backed defiance of the status quo, a quality to work exceptionally well during the last third of I’ll Cry Tomorrow when Roth’s optimism has been whittled by regret and alcoholism. Not so much for the first half of this movie where the 38-yr-old Hayward is expected to convince us she is only a teenager. Nevertheless, it is Hayward’s resiliency as a star, and her professionalism plus, that sells her in the part. She is galvanized and riveting on the screen. The other noteworthy in this flick comes late to the party: Eddie Albert as Roth’s polio-infirmed sponsor, Burt McGuire. Albert’s empathy is genuine as he struggles to reconcile Burt’s emotions with what it would mean to Roth – for Roth, should she undertake to become his wife/caregiver.

I’ll Cry Tomorrow starts at the beginning – or very near it. Lillian Roth is depicted, age 8, by the marvelous Carole Ann Campbell, dominated by a real gargoyle of a stage mom, Katie (Jo Van Fleet). Young Lillian is impressionable and deeply wounded by her mother’s genuine lack of affection, except for what it will get her in contracts and work. Lillian secures an early opportunity in Chicago. We fade up on Roth (now, played by Hayward), pursuing her musical career. Alas, some things never change. Katie is still Lillian’s wrangler/agent and her most destructive influence. Eventually, Lillian discovers childhood friend/entertainment company lawyer, David Tredman (Ray Danton) has been trying to land Lillian some fairly big gigs, including a stint at the Palace. Too bad, David and Katie clash over his belief she is manipulating Lillian to satisfy her own ego. A sincere affection develops between David and Lillian. He proposes and she accepts. Bitterly disappointed her daughter might sacrifice career to become a wife and mother, Katie is relieved when David falls ill and dies during Lillian’s greatest triumph – leaving the latter, utterly distraught.

Holding Katie personally responsible for David’s death and her grave unhappiness, Lillian turns to the bottle for solace. In a stupor, she weds aviator, Wallie (Don Taylor) – a union to prove disastrous from the outset. Wallie’s alcoholism fortifies Lillian's own struggles with booze. Her career spirals, with whatever gains made thus far in her life and career, brutally squandered on her addiction. Wallie and Lillian divorce and she quickly migrates these flawed affections to another booze-hound, Tony Bardeman (Richard Conte). Suffering the hellacious aftereffects of alcohol withdrawal, Lillian feigns sobriety to keep Katie happy, but becomes a closeted drinker instead. Tony leaves for California. When he returns, Lillian begs him to remain at her side. The couple vow sobriety. But once married, old habits are reinvigorated. Tony falls off the wagon and Lillian is deeply wounded by his betrayal. An altercation, leaves Lillian badly beaten. Returning to Katie with her tail between her legs, Lillian contemplates suicide. Instead, she joins Alcoholics Anonymous, suffering delirium tremens but becoming genuinely enamored with her AA sponsor, Burt McGuire. Regrettably, the devastating effects from his childhood polio make him resistant to a love affair. Determined to weather the storm solo, Lillian accepts an invitation to appear on TV’s popular reality show, This Is Your Life. The movie ends with her full and frank disclosure on that program.

I’ll Cry Tomorrow is pretty unvarnished, and at times, a disconcerting film to get through. While the more salacious aspects of Roth’s real-life drama are left to the imagination, there is enough inference communicated through Hayward’s stellar performance to command our respect for both it and the real woman being deified on the screen. Ironically, Daniel Mann’s direction is not all that impressive. He covers only the necessary beats of the story, yet decidedly without anything more precise or engaging than an acknowledgement of this connective tissue, merely to advance the story from points ‘A’ to ‘B’ and beyond. Apart from Eddie Albert, the rest of the supporting cast do not distinguish themselves in meaningful ways. Joan Van Fleet’s ruthless stage mom is a ‘stock’ caricature from the Gypsy Rose Lee catalog of impressions, to which Van Fleet – an otherwise deft and highly accomplished actress – adds nothing fresh. Richard Conte’s brute is, likewise, strictly excised from the ‘thug chapter’ of Hollywood’s well-trodden textbook in movie clichés. So, in the end, we are left with Hayward, who proves unequivocally she can carry this load from start to finish without us ever tiring of her histrionics.

I’ll Cry Tomorrow arrives on Blu-ray via the Warner Archive (WAC) and – yep, you guessed it, looking light-years younger than it ought in 1080p, thanks to WAC’s total commitment to its deep catalog releases. The B&W image exhibits superb tonality. Fine details abound. The image is sharp and consistent throughout with a rather heavy patina of film grain looking very indigenous to its source. The original Westrex mono audio has been lovingly preserved in 2.0 mono and exhibits excellent clarity with zero hiss or pop. Bottom line: as a picture, I’ll Cry Tomorrow is an unprepossessing, middling effort, elevated by the powerhouse performance of its star. Few stars of any vintage can actually command such exclusive attention or respect from an audience. Hayward, is definitely one of them. The Blu-ray is excellent. Judge and buy accordingly.

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

3

VIDEO/AUDIO

4

EXTRAS

0