A Place in the Sun

Back in April, when Elizabeth Taylor died, I endeavored to see a few of her films that I hadn't seen before, such as National Velvet and Reflections in a Golden Eye. A Place in the Sun was also one of those films, but it had the ominous "Very Long Wait" tag on it in my Netflix queue. I left it there, sitting at the top of my queue, and after eight months it finally came. I can only imagine that Netflix had only one copy, and it was gathering dust on some guy's coffee table.

The film was celebrated in its day. It won six Oscars, including one for director George Stevens. That year, 1951, was a weird year for Oscar, because A Streetcar Named Desire won a bunch of other awards, but the Best Picture winner was An American in Paris.

The picture viewed through the prism of today is admirable but dated, dancing around the subjects of unwed pregnancy and abortion, and with a feckless protagonist. It did mark the beginning of Taylor's stardom as an adult, as she was only seventeen when cast in the role.

Based on Theodore Dreiser's novel An American Tragedy, A Place in the Sun would seem to be about the class distinctions in American society that were probably stronger in the 1920s than in the 1950s. Stevens updated the novel to contemporary times, which undercuts a bit the separation--after World War II, it was more likely a man could rise from poverty to riches, especially if he's related to it. The main character is George Eastman, played by Montgomery Clift. He is a poor relation to the owner of a company that makes swimsuits. He arrives and his uncle gives him a menial job. Against company rules, he begins dating Alice Tripp (Shelley Winters), a somewhat plain and unsophisticated woman.

Winters becomes pregnant, and in a scene rife with unspoken intent, sees a doctor about an abortion. Meanwhile, Clift has been dazzled by society girl Angela Vickers (Elizabeth Taylor). In one of Stevens' less than subtle touches, the word "Vickers," presumably on a hotel owned by her family, shines brightly through the window of his rented room. The room also has a print of Millais' painting "Ophelia," another bit of foreshadowing (to add to that, whenever a character says they don't know how to swim, there might as well be a doom-like music sting).

Clift falls in love with Taylor, and she likewise with him. But what to do about Winters? When she tracks him down to Taylor's lake home, threatening to tell all unless he marries her, he decides he's going to kill her by taking her out in a rowboat by drowning her. He lacks nerve, but when Winters nervously stands up in the boat, she capsizes it and drowns. Clift swims to shore and goes back to Taylor, but his plan wasn't exactly a brilliant one, and district attorney Raymond Burr figures it out right quick.

The last quarter of the film is a trial that doesn't have much fireworks, other than Clift squirming on the stand, telling the truth, however far-fetched it sounds.

Though A Place in the Sun is a perfectly acceptable melodrama, especially for 1951, it has a hole in its center, and that's Clift. He doesn't give a bad performance; he just doesn't have much to play. The character lacks an interior life--he seems to genuinely love Winters, and then genuinely loves Taylor. His murderous intentions come from panic more than any diabolical malevolence. Because he's such a blank, it's hard to understand why Taylor is in love with him, other than that he's one of the most gorgeous men ever to make a movie. Winters' attraction is more understandable--she's a nobody, and he's related to the boss, and his rise to management is something of a hope for her future, even if it means losing their jobs if their relationship becomes open.

I found it interesting during the brief documentary on the DVD that Winters was a surprise choice for the role, because she was known as something of a sexpot. The irony is in she would go on to specialize in blowsy, victimized women, especially in He Ran All the Way, The Night of the Hunter, and Lolita.