Post-War America and the Melodrama
Imitation of Life (photo, Universal Studios)
The 1950s is a frequently idealized period where the middle class was at its highest point and everything seemed ‘swell,’ at least on the surface. Coinciding with this period was the popular genre of the melodrama which, while stylized with many beautiful color palates, lighting and costume design, also nestled in commentary on issues regarding the underbelly of American society, often times as poignant as the noir films that are generally taken more seriously, especially in the past. This essay will attempt to link the melodrama and post-war America with respect to the culture of the times, in particular focusing on gender, race and homosexuality.
It is well known that women during World War II went into the workforce at a significantly elevated rate as a direct result of many of the men fighting overseas. This definitely contributed to a increase in the number of films Hollywood produced geared towards the female audience but perhaps more importantly, further stressed a dichotomy between what the average woman was expected to balance in terms of her ‘domestic’ responsibilities and what she wants to pursue, be it a career or personal satisfaction. Nowhere else is this more clear than in Douglas Sirk’s The Imitation of Life from 1959, where our protagonist Lora (Lana Turner) encounters many difficulties in attempting to develop a relationship with her love interest Steve (John Gavin), since she is intently focused on dedicating her time to become a successful Broadway actress. This also puts great stress on the bond between her and her daughter Susie (Sandra Dee), even leading to a love triangle of sorts between them and Steve, culminating in Susie leaving her mother to go to school in Colorado. This is similar to how Carol (Cate Blanchett), in the film of the same name, and Cathy (Julianne Moore) in Todd Haynes’ other melodrama Far From Heaven, both encounter immense obstacles in trying to serve their interests and develop their identities while retaining their positions as good wives of the era. Both ultimately culminate in divorce and the disintegration of the traditional family unit. Now I do realize that both characters have romantic ties to people other than their husbands, but perhaps that only further adds to constricting morality the director may be critiquing, since monogamy was and still is considered the mainstream.
Another aspect of the connection between women and this genre worth mentioning briefly is how it was initially seen as a “chick-flick” or “tear-jerker” presumably to disparage some of the tastes of the female audience. However, as it was feminist critics in the 1970s such as Molly Haskell, Marjorie Rosen, and Constance Penley who brought attention to the many formal and thematic nuances that these films were raising in their own right.
To bridge the themes of gender and sexuality, one must look at how homosexual women and men are treated quite dissimilarly. In Carol, her husband Harge (Kyle Chandler) leverages the knowledge of her being a lesbian to use a “morality clause” to get the most favourable divorce terms possible. He even goes so far as to hire a private investigator to follow her and record intimate moments on tape. In Far From Heaven, Cathy’s husband Frank (Dennis Quaid) gets another chance at salvaging the relationship upon the knowledge of his infidelities, a chance which he bungles as well. It is worth noting that both characters do leave the traditional dynamic of their families to eventually end up with the partner, in both cases much younger, that they so desired. In this way not only are they equal, since the terms of Carol’s divorce do not seem to be in her favour, whereas there is no such mention of a strenuous legal battle with Cathy and her husband. Both Kyle Chandler and Dennis Quaid have a similar appearance in both films, with their suits and coiffed hair in an almost Mad Men-esque way, perhaps relating to the idea that well-established white men of that time period had a certain privilege and could seemingly do no wrong.
This is not to say gay men were treated so well with respect to the era in question, with homosexuality being viewed as a disease or at the very least, as an unwanted form of social deviancy. With this thinking of the times in mind, Frank ends up going through conversion therapy. Shortly thereafter, we hear remarks from him such as referring to his sexuality as a “sickness” as well as saying “I can’t let this thing destroy my life, my family’s life.” Historically speaking, conversion therapy was on occasion not only mentally horrific but physically as well, with shock therapy having been implemented. Even still, the ‘normal’ conversion therapy Frank undergoes leaves him with mental health and identity issues, resulting in him developing an apparent alcohol problem. He gets into a public argument with Cathy at a party they are hosting when he is drunk and even strikes her later on after another incident where he could not seem to make love to his wife, for obvious reasons. What is even more disheartening is how Frank talks down to his wife for her relationship with Raymond Deagan (Dennis Haysbert) as extremely harmful for the reputation of the family, in an exemplification of epic hypocrisy.
The concept of rejecting one’s identity to conform to society’s consensus of what is right is not only visible in relation to Frank’s sexuality, but also with Sarah Jane’s (Susan Kohner) racial identity in the Imitation of Life. From early on in the film she rejects being black, refusing black dolls and even insinuating her mother is not her true mother. This leads to a life of physical abuse and implied sexual exploitation in seedy nightclubs after running away from home. Further still, her own mother Annie (Juanita Moore) seems to die from a broken heart, as a result of being rejected by her only daughter and having her move away to engage in a life she certainly is not proud of.
Continuing with the persistent theme of race, both Haynes’ 2002 film and Sirk’s 1959 film are most assuredly deserving of a great deal of attention and are surprising to me as a viewer, especially in the latter due to the time in which it was released. Upon further reflection of some famous race-related events of the time, it does actually make a great deal of sense given the tense period of the nation’s history. The 9 black children who need to be escorted by the National Guard at Little Rock; Rosa Parks refusing to sit in the back of the bus; and Emmitt Till being savagely murdered in Mississippi all come to mind. Till in particular remains at the forefront in my mind, since he was a child like Sarah Jane and Sarah Deagan (with similar names chosen on purpose I am sure) in that they are both beaten brutally. The two Sarahs are even beaten due to a fear of race mixing mirroring Till who was accused of looking at a white woman ‘the wrong way’. The fact that the incident occurs in an alley where the ground is extremely wet and Sarah Jane’s case cannot be an accident either, given that Emmitt was left in a body of water upon his death which was so near to the release of the film.
What I also found to be intensely insightful in Far From Heaven was how the relationship between Cathy (Julianne Moore) and Deagan (Denis Haysbert) was judged as intensely from both the white and black communities, not limiting racism to something inherent to any one group of people, but rather an element of tribalism we strive to get rid of across all individuals. The white community escalated from making quips about Cathy’s “liberal” college days and small comments at the art gallery to entirely ostracizing her, even her own best friend. The black community was even worse to Raymond, initially just treating him with a hostile attitude when he was sitting with Cathy at the bar he frequents, to him having to move to Baltimore due to the threats against his daughter and his business being unsustainable in response to the clientele’s changed opinion of him. Perhaps this part of the film could be tied to that of Richard and Mildred Loving from the 1960s, whose story I saw brought to life by Jeff Nichols in Loving. Their interracial relationship forced them to move away from their home in Virginia, at least for a time, making it analogous to what occurred in Haynes’ film to some degree. At the very least, it details the societal landscape pertaining to racial mixing in post-war America and just how difficult it was for those who did.
Additionally, what I have to commend Sirk on is how he subtly includes a socio-economic quality to his film without making it too obvious. Annie, the housekeeper, is shown to be quite intelligent, as evidenced by her being the one to realize Susie is also romantically interested in Steve (similar to how Sybil notices the blooming relationship between Cathy and Raymond). Furthermore, Annie (Juanita Moore) is a diligent worker, and yet that is the highest position she can realistically hope to attain. While saddening, this does make sense given the economic discrimination faced by many black people even after the war, with notable evidence of entire banking institutions refusing to grant people of colour any credit and many employers not hiring people who were not white.
Another momentous moment had occurred in a similar timeframe to those mentioned previously in regards to race, and that is Martin Luther King’s bus boycott during the mid-1950s. This movement cemented him in the national limelight and discourse to this day and as such, I can’t imagine Sirk would pass up the opportunity to incorporate some element of that into his work. The ending of Imitation of Life taking place in a black church can be read as a possible reference to Reverend King or by paying respect to that aspect of African American culture, with its deep historical ties to the church. The director also makes a wonderful choice by incorporating the great gospel singer Mahalia Jackson to sing “Trouble of the World,” whose lyrics and title fit nicely into the themes of civil rights.
With the abundance of racial components to the film, the issues surrounding the white characters, such as a love triangle and remaining on top of Broadway, begin to feel rather frivolous. One could perhaps go so far as to say Sirk was incorporating some degree of satire to his work in establishing such a radically different world for the characters of different ethnicities, then again that was entirely the case in the world the director was working in.
Ultimately, the melodrama as a whole has deep ties to the American post-war reality. Both Douglas Sirk and Todd Haynes in particular offer an eye-opening portrayal of the era, examining the perceived social deviancy with respect to sexuality, the conflict between women’s conformist roles with their potential passions and delving into the significant changes, and the lack thereof, surrounding race at the time.
Nathan Kosik-Desmond is an attorney in Boston, mainly focused on transactional real estate and corporate matters. Nathan received a JD from the University of Southern California Gould School of Law, where he was able to merge his passion for film by studying entertainment law, as well as a BA from Concordia University, where he had the pleasure of taking various Film Studies classes.
