In the annals of film history there are few relationships as compelling to gay audiences as that between mother and daughter. Imitation of Life, Stella Dallas, Mermaids, The Bad Seed, Terms of Endearment and Mommie Dearest come to mind immediately. That last movie is like a fun-house mirror because, in its portrait of Faye Dunaway portraying actress Joan Crawford, it includes glimpses of Crawford preparing for what in 1945 would be her greatest screen success—the role of a self-sacrificing mother and her tempestuous relationship with her snobbish, ungrateful daughter who high-hats her at every turn, eventually taking up with her rotten playboy stepfather and involving the mother in murder and deceit.
This, of course, was Mildred Pierce—director Michael Curtiz’s noir classic that brought Crawford a long-desired Oscar and a bravura comeback at the same time. James M. Cain, renowned for his pulp-fiction crime novels Double Indemnity and The Postman Always Ring Twice, penned Mildred Pierce in 1941 and purposely wrote a book whose subject matter and psychological depth was far from the murderous thrillers, with their terse prose and tough characters, for which he had come to be noted. Set in the early years of the Great Depression, Cain’s tightly written book focuses on the newly divorced single mother of the title who bakes pies and cakes to make ends meet; takes a job as a waitress as a last resort; and subsequently rises to become the owner of several restaurants bearing her name. Everything in Mildred’s life is superceded by her unnatural obsession with snobbish daughter Veda and, boy, does Mildred pay for her wanton disregard of Veda’s true character.
Ironically, scriptwriters Ranald MacDougall, Katherine Turney and William Faulkner added in Cain’s familiar hallmarks in their adaptation of his book (including a murder)—aspects that Curtiz further emphasized in his stylish noir approach to the film. The result has overshadowed the 70-year-old novel, as has Crawford’s driven performance ever since.
However, now out writer-director Todd Haynes has returned to the source work and—teaming with co-writer Jon Raymond and most of the creative team that helped him reconstruct the ersatz-’50s period used for his master work, Far From Heaven (including his longtime producer Christine Vachon)—has wrought a new version of Mildred Pierce that hews more closely to the book than just about any other novel-to-screen adaptation I’ve ever seen. The result—a lavish five-part, five hour miniseries for HBO (premiering Sunday, March 27)—doesn’t have nearly the melodramatic, lurid immediacy of the Curtiz film but, rather, slowly builds in intensity, offering a much subtler and decidedly more grim approach to the material. (Mildred’s detailed struggle to find a job is particularly involving.) The film’s muted color pallete—in homage to the grainy, vintage look of The Godfather, Chinatown and The Day of the Locust—and Carter Burwell’s moody score mixed with vintage period standards are just right for this story of economic recovery contrasted with the lead character’s emotional downturn.
Kate Winslet, as the lead, reveals a complexity that Crawford on her best day could never have managed. This is not to disavow Crawford’s enthralling, look-at-me performance and the pleasures of watching her smack around Ann Blyth (who played the vicious, slutty Veda) or of enjoying for the 97th time Eve Arden’s expert wise-cracking, Butterfly McQueen’s simpering, Jack Carson’s gruff charm or Zachary Scott’s oily nastiness.
But this isn’t your gay uncle’s Mildred Pierce, either. Certainly, Haynes’ adaptation rests on the strength of Winslet’s matchless performance. (She’s in nearly every scene and the result is like watching an acting marathon.) Winslet is a much younger Mildred, closer in age to the book’s 28-34 age span, and she gives her the fidgety, distracted energy Cain described. This is a woman who is eternally anxious, always thinking about her next move—all predicated on bringing her the love and attention of the culturally superior daughter. When she gets some of that love (as in the scene where Mildred watches Veda sing in concert) Winslet’s wound, controlled intensity nearly leaps off the screen. But, surprisingly, Haynes’ miniseries feels like it skimps on the relationship between Mildred and Evan Rachel Wood as the highbrow, opera-singing Veda—and the anticipated fireworks between the two is strangely muted and not nearly as fun as those acted by the melodramatic, nearly hysterical Crawford and the poisonous Blyth.
In this version the truly compelling relationship is between Mildred and Monty Beragon, played by Guy Pearce. With Pearce, Haynes has cast a perfect personification of the morally dessicated playboy whose sexual compatability with Mildred is astonishing and almost an embarrassment to her. Pearce, who has never been sexier (Priscilla, Queen of the Desert aside) is the essence of a soulless, drunken kept man who understands his role isn’t much more than that of a paid escort—and who doesn’t care. Wood is fine and bitchy enough, although her treacherous Veda doesn’t appear until too late in the series. (For far too long Morgan Turner plays the young Veda and she isn’t nearly a good enough actress to spar effectively with Winslet.) Winslet’s supporting cast—Melissa Leo as Mrs. Gessler, Mildred’s helpful neighbor (a major character in the book); James LeGros as Wally (in for Jack Carson); and Mare Winningham as Ida (taking Eve Arden’s part)—are also fine but none makes nearly the impression their forebears did in the 1945 adaptation.
To be fair, that may have more to do with Haynes’ methodical approach, which follows Cain’s equally terse plotting (nearly to the letter). Although this sprawling, visually appealing adaptation of Mildred Pierce certainly won’t erase the memory of Crawford and Company’s long-adored version (it’s surely not meant to), Haynes’s instincts in filming the 70-year-old novel now are sound (the economic hardships and the bored, distracted, dismissive teen are certainly up to the minute subjects) while Winslet, Pearce and, to a lesser extent, Wood give performances that will help ensure this Mildred Pierce secure a piece of cinema immortality all its own.
Film notes:
LGBT Change’s The Faith Project, in association with the Queer Intercollegiate Alliance, is hosting Queering the Faith, a film series exploring “the intersection of the LGBTQ community and religion.” Each of the films in the monthly series, running from March through May, will explore that theme in the context of a different religion. A panel discussion titled “From Dialogue to Action”—with scholars, clergy and audience participation—will conclude the series at the groups’ May 11 screening. The series kicks off Thursday, March 24, with a showing of Trembling Before G-d, which focuses on Judaism and homosexuality. The screening will take place at Loyola’s Loop Campus with Loyola Advocate at the Lewis Towers-Regents Hall, 16th floor, 820 N. Michigan. Subsequent screenings include Fish Out Of Water, For the Bible Tells Me So and A Jihad for Love. See www.lgbtchange.org.
The free, LGBT-themed, weekly film series Cinema Q continues on Wed., March 30, with a screening of JoJo Baby, the documentary profile of local nightclub legend and doll artist JoJo Baby. “Mad At the Dirt” and “Joan Crawford Goes to Hell”—music videos by The Joans, the rock-n-roll Joan Crawford-themed band headed by Hell in a Handbag creative director David Cerda and directed by out filmmaker Peter Neville—will start the night. Neville and JoJo Baby will be present at the screenings. The evening begins at 6:30 p.m. and takes place at the Chicago Cultural Center, 78 E. Washington, in the Claudia Cassidy Theater. Visit www.queerfilmsociety.org.
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