Daisy Kenyon

[MissGoddess]

I'm sticking this thread in "Dramas" even though Fox will be releasing it on dvd under it's Noir banner.

Fur mein Herr I braved the cold and went to see Daisy Kenyon last night and it was worth it to me. Worth it to renew and expand my appreciation of how good Dana Andrews is in this movie. He really sweeps away the show and it's much more apparent on the big screen what a consumate actor he was. He seldom was more commanding and charismatic than he is as Dan O'Mara, the rude, egotistical, but rudely and egotistically charming lawyer who forms the sharpest point of the triangle with Joan Crawford and Henry Fonda. This is the kind of melodrama I can't get enough of. It's one of Otto Preminger's "talky" pictures referred to by Mr. Hirsch, with plenty of gusto in the script. The movie also has its share of flaws but I never feel competent enough to talk about a picture's weaknesses as I can gush over its strengths.

Aside from Dana Andrews, I will also give both Joan and Henry their due. Joan is definitely still classic Joan here, but considerably "Toned" down (ha!) and Henry delivers a slyly subdued performance, convincing me that Daisy really is better off with him than with Dan. And that's not easy to do. I'm not sure if everyone will agree that Preminger does a good job of analyzing how people know what they really want and whether what they feel is love or not, but at least he presents an engrossing "case study". The dialogue, as I said, is clever, funny and terse---and occasionally unintentionally funny ("I never thought you were worth killing before...")---but the performances are all sincere---with the exception of Ruth Warrick as the wife. Poor thing, it's a lousey role to play in real life and surely no easier on screen, especially as written. She's not given much common sense to work with so how else could she play it other than as an hysteric? In fact, I don't recall ever seeing Ruth Warrick so emotional; her discarded wife in Citizen Kane this is NOT.

Back to Danaville. Most interesting (and entertaining) to me was the way Dan O'Mara played that "love ya baby" routine with everyone in his circle: relations, employer, Maitre-d' or mistress, they were all "honeybuches" to him. It made him seem likable and at the same time kept everyone at a distance, emotionally. Andrews had much to be proud of in this overlooked performance---he manages to hit all the right buttons and even bring nuance to a potentially florid character. By contrast, Henry Fonda is decidedly one-note, though it's a pleasing enough note. Where Fonda is most effective is when he simply and eloquently talks about his dead wife. He wisely paces his style to a slow burn as counterpoint to all the extravagances and scenery chewing provided by the other leads. It endangers his performance to near obliteration but I think he manages to make his presence felt. And his last line is one of the best.

The last few scenes---all but the very last one, are the most uneven to me. They seem to descend into the realm of cheap melodrama until Otto yanks them back --- or the screenwriter, with some pithy but sardonic dialogue and, again, the sincerity of the performances.

One more word about Joan Crawford. I truly prefer her in this kind of honest attempt to turn in something sincere because she certainly had all the background in the world to draw on for hyper-emotional scenes, making it entirely unnecessary for her to rely so much on technique and her tried-and-true trademark stylizing. Many of her fans prefer her more manic and over-the-top, but I think the high energy she possessed was more appealingly presented in the early thirties romantic comedies than later on in her more celebrated virago roles. As Daisy Kenyon, she comes as close to balancing the two extremes (tough/together vs. falling apart) as she ever did. Not that you won't lack for those "classic Joan" moments if any of you do rent or buy Daisy Kenyon when it comes to dvd in March.

If I'd been around when this movie was released in theaters (1947), it would have been one of those flicks I'd have gone back again and again to wallow in. In other words, I'm not sure if guys will like this movie as much as women.

[moira finnie]

I wouldn't categorize this as a film noir at all, would you Miss G.? Those boys at Fox must've just made that assumption based on the Preminger touch, the dark emotions and the cool mood lighting throughout Daisy Kenyon.

When I first saw this movie about ten years ago, I had three major reactions:

1.) This was probably the first time that I realized that Henry Fonda and Dana Andrews were attractive men. Maybe even sexy occasionally. That was not something that I associated with these guys at all, normally. Up till then, at least.

2.) Joan had a good creative career, two guys were interested in her, (okay so one of them was married...we all have flaws), and she got to live on Cape Cod for part of the movie. But was she happy? NO! The night that I saw this flick, I broke out in a bad case of cinemenvy, a condition caused by characters in movies who live charmed lives that they don't appreciate and seem oblivious to most of the time. I also had bad cases of this dread affliction when I first saw Dorothy McGuire in Claudia(1943) and June Allyson in The Secret Heart (1946). Freakin' ingrates, don't know when they've got it good.

3.) I'd kill for an apartment like Joan Crawford had in this movie. Well, maybe I'd draw the line at homicide, but I loved those windows, that kitchenette, the folding screen, the frosted glass doors, those built-in bookcases! Oh, I swoon just thinking about that movie-made pied-à-terre. (I was living in a converted closet that was laughingly called a studio apartment in Boston at the time). I think this may have been one of the first times that I realized that there truly was something special about the set design at Twentieth Century Fox studios in the '40s. Lyle Wheeler and his unsung brethren were minor gods, imho.

Since then, I've realized that one of the more interesting themes of the movie and many such stories, is the human ability (or more accurately disability) to never be satisfied. To feel that there's always something missing from life, no matter what we have in the here and now...hmmm, maybe this is a film noir, after all? And a very American theme as well, alas, since we're weaned on the notion that like the shark, we must forever keep moving forward, to be expecting something more out of life...of course, that was also part of Dana Andrews' character's appeal and is only a side of the American character, not the whole magilla.

I loved the way you described Andrews as an operator with everyone, even his wife and kids. His discomfort primarily came from the moments when his wife or daughter saw through his glossy appearance. I realize that my responses to Daisy Kenyon were mostly about the surface of this movie, not the substance, but maybe that was part of the film's appeal and it's fatal flaw. Gee, I gotta think about this now.

Btw, I agree. Joan is a much better actress when she plays a restrained character than when she pulls out all the stops.

[MissGoddess]

Joan had a good creative career, two guys were interested in her, (okay so one of them was married...we all have flaws), and she got to live on Cape Cod for part of the movie. But was she happy? NO! The night that I saw this flick, I broke out in a bad case of cinemenvy, a condition caused by characters in movies who live charmed lives that they don't appreciate and seem oblivious to most of the time.

Absolutely! Daisy was screwed up. The same thing kept running through my mind during the movie: How can this dame complain when she has TWO guys (one a "ruthless tycoon") literally chasing her and then standing around declaring they won't budge until she chooses which one gets to be her husband! When in reality, especially now, they don't make shot-guns big enough to get one man to commit to steady dating--that is, after you've chased him and caught him. I was quite dumbfounded by her persistent dissatisfaction. I have the novel it's based on and frankly I don't think it explains it any better. Except that it does go into far greater detail about her life with Fonda's character, something the film doesn't quite capture enough, but then it might have dragged if they went on.

Maybe that's why Dana made the picture for me. And I found him sexy in Laura from the first moment but curuiously, his sex appeal became muzzled and muffled in most of his other roles. He liked character parts it seems and I basically prefer him as a charismatic romantic lead.

[moira finnie]

I'm glad that you mentioned the book. My parents had a copy of this and I remember reading it as a teen, but can't remember much about it except the portions set in Cape Cod. Joan did seem to be getting in the way of having a good time throughout this flick, oddly.

[MissGoddess]

Moira, the picture in your Avatar looks so familiar to me...is it from some children's storybook?

[moira finnie]

It is one of a series of paintings by William Beard, a 19th century artist whose sense of humor about animals and humans went right over the heads of most of his contemporaries. There are a couple of his "bear paintings" in the NY area. I've seen them at the Metropolitan and the Brooklyn Museum of Art. I would've liked to have known Mr. Bear, er, I mean, Beard. Apparently, the NY Historical Society values his unique viewpoint too, as you can see below


Here's a thumbnail bio:

William Holbrook Beard (1825-1900) specialized in satirically guising businessmen, scientists and politicians as animals. "The Bear Dance" is his spoof of conservative financial investors-symbolized by bears-celebrating a profitable business day. Self-taught, Beard painted portraits and a wide variety of other subjects, but his humorously anthropomorphized squirrels, rabbits, cats, monkeys and, especially bears, are his most popular subjects.
Disappointed that he didn't see more buffalo or wildlife during a 1866 train trip West, and discouraged by the monotony of the landscape, Beard turned to his imagination to nourish his love of nature. The resulting witty mockery of animals succumbing to human foibles-often drunkenness and infidelity-were met with acclaim, as well as outrage from conservative organizations, the very targets of his ridicule.

[MissGoddess]

That's so interesting how he used animals as thinly disguised satirical portraits of people! I don't believe I have ever heard of this artist before, but you've piqued my curiosity. Thank you for the info!

[jdb1]

Beard is also responsible for the painting "The Bulls and the Bears in the Marketplace" (I think that's the title), which shows those animals, and lots of them, fighting a very realistic and bloody battle in front of the NY Stock Exchange. Far too many offices in this City have that one on their walls, and although I understand the spirit of the work, I find it one of the most unpleasant and disturbing paintings I've ever seen.

(Shudder)