RAINTREE COUNTY C-
USA (168 mi) 1957 ‘Scope d: Edward Dmytryk
I have no idea what attracted the studio or the big name stars to this wretched material, adapted from a Ross Lockridge Jr. novel, an author who at age 33 committed suicide after long term bouts with chronic depression, but the barely tolerable writing is horrendous throughout, making this a perfect example of the extravagance and over indulgence of the Hollywood studio system, costing $5 million dollars for MGM, much of it on the lavish costumes, holding the dubious honor of being the most expensive movie ever made at the time of its release. The film is memorable more for its folly than anything else, as even the performances of Elizabeth Taylor and Montgomery Clift seem mysteriously disconnected. Clift was drinking heavily at the time, arousing red flags from all who knew him, eventually suffering a tragic auto accident halfway through the production which was shut down for more than two months waiting for him to recover, leaving his face disfigured, not to mention a resultant addiction to alcohol and pain killers for the rest of his life. This off-screen tragedy, not the film itself, led to a box office success, as viewers were curious to pick out the scenes shot before and after the accident. In addition, this is the first film to ever shoot Montgomery Clift in color. Shot by Robert Surtees, the last of the Hollywood films to use a super large ‘Scope aspect ratio of 2:55:1, it was meant to be screened on 65 mm film, giving the film an especially luminous quality, but since so few theaters could accommodate this change, it was instead released in traditional CinemaScope. Following their brilliant work together in A PLACE IN THE SUN (1951), making them, according to Clift’s biographer Patricia Bosworth, “the most beautiful Hollywood movie couple of all time,” this is the second film where Taylor and Clift, extremely close lifelong friends, worked together, while the truly bizarre film SUDDENLY LAST SUMMER (1959) would be their last.
Set in a small town in rural Indiana before, during, and after the Civil War, the studio felt this could rival GONE WITH THE WIND (1939) in its epic historical scope, but don’t even think about it. The only similarity is the histrionic over-acting of both Vivien Leigh and Elizabeth Taylor, with Leigh winning and Taylor nominated for a Best Actress Award, and the politically incorrect depiction of slavery, which is a little disconcerting in both films. After a 5-minute orchestral prelude, the film opens in an idyllic setting, where star students Johnny (Clift) and his sweetheart Nell (Eva Marie Saint) meet in the forest at a local creek exchanging graduation gifts. Their open minded professor (Nigel Patrick), however, makes no bones about his attraction to a young chestnut haired student (Myrna Hansen) and is eventually run out of town on a rail at the discovery of his attempted indiscretions. Clift is the school valedictorian and his family and the town have high hopes for his future. Elizabeth Taylor arrives a half hour into the film and catches Johnny’s eye as Susanna, a wealthy Southern belle from New Orleans, an aristocrat with slaves and property, whose purring, still girlish voice and heavy accent feel forced and completely unnatural, initially filmed in a heavily stylized and dreamy setting, as if the angels are singing in the background. Lee Marvin makes an appearance as Orville “Flash” Perkins, a loudmouthed braggart and a drinker who challenges Johnny to a race, both thinking they are the fastest runners in the territory, which leads to a 4th of July fiasco, where they both amusingly get intoxicated before the race. Afterwards, Johnny and Susanna have a picnic in the woods where they go swimming together in the creek, leading her to return several weeks later announcing she’s pregnant.
Johnny, of course, does the honorable thing and agrees to marry her, taking a riverboat journey south to meet her relatives in New Orleans, discovering their views favoring slavery as well as their belief that Abraham Lincoln was tainted with Negro blood. Perhaps the most despicable scene is Johnny’s insistence that Susanna free her slaves, which she announces at a party in front of her relatives, one of whom dons a blackface and prances around as the stereotypical yet horribly demeaning depiction of a darky. At this point, Taylor’s exaggerated over-the-top drama kicks in, revealing she’s a deeply troubled woman hiding family secrets, as her mother slowly went insane, causing her father to bring back a Negro women from Cuba to take her place in the home raising the children, but the two of them were apparently shot in a fire that destroyed her family’s plantation, a traumatic incident from childhood that continues to haunt her. Johnny remains reassuringly supportive, even after Susanna admits she was never pregnant, but desperately wanted his love, but she is possessed by visions, like a dark curse, eventually disappearing without a trace with their son, apparently gone to Georgia following the outbreak of the Civil War, which leads to an intermission at the 2-hour mark.
The final section drags on with the least impact and is not really necessary other than to exploit the war, becoming ludicrous at times, especially when Johnny joins the Northern army largely in a desperate attempt to seek out his missing family in the South. Johnny joins up with an Indiana regiment that includes “Flash” Perkins and his old professor, now a war correspondent, and follows the track of Sherman’s march to Atlanta. Surprisingly, along the way, they run into the home of the Cuban woman that helped raise Susanna, where friendly family slaves have his son safely hidden away. It’s here that Johnny learns Susanna had a breakdown and has been admitted to an insane asylum. Carrying his son on his shoulders, Johnny fends off Rebel soldiers, which even for a soap opera is just beyond belief, as is the rescue scene in the asylum. Unfortunately, in order to bring in the Civil War and tie up loose ends, they extended an already overlong film an extra hour without ever offering a truly gripping scene. In my view, this is one of Taylor’s worst performances, as she’s completely on a different wavelength than everyone else in the film, allowed to over act while embellishing narcissism and nonstop hysteria on camera. This simply doesn’t suit her since she’s such an adult, naturalistic force onscreen, but not here, as she’s continually portrayed as damaged goods. Clift, on the other hand, has much greater screen chemistry with Eva Marie Saint, something that Susanna eventually realizes before bringing the curtain down in dramatic fashion. The director never gets a grip on the material and allows the film to continually meander, presented almost as a fairy tale, never for a moment sensing any urgency or real life emotion.



The novel is actually a modernist masterpiece, a stylistically dazzling American "Ulysses," but you couldn't tell that from the movie. Lockridge's publisher, Houghton Mifflin, submitted "Raintree County" prior to its publication for both the MGM Novel Prize and selection by the Book of the Month Club. It won both honors, contingent upon Lockridge making cuts to his very long manuscript, specifically a several hundred page dream sequence that originally closed the novel (akin, perhaps, to the lengthy dream finale of Fassbinder's "Berlin Alexanderplatz"?). Lockridge made the cuts, but it tore his heart out to do so, and was undoubtedly a factor in his suicide. The excised passages are all still held by the Indiana University library, and I expect that one day we will see a fully restored scholarly edition of "Raintree County" (as well as a first printing of Lockridge's unpublished epic poem "The Dream of the Flesh of Iron"). MGM held onto the movie rights for "Raintree County" for ten years before commencing its botch job. Screenwriter Millard Kaufman had done an excellent script for John Sturges's "Bad Day at Black Rock" two years before, but I suspect that he found Lockridge's artistic vision intractable as movie material, and also that MGM was only interested in making an extremely conventionalized and soupy version of the novel. Heavily language-oriented writers such as Lockrudge, Joyce, and Faulkner are generally poor candidates for adaptation.
ReplyDeleteElizabeth Taylor throughout is presented onscreen in dreamlike imagery, which due to her everpresent beauty actually has a chance of working initially. But as she falls into her neverending bouts with depression, the film version associates this with her extensive childhood collection of dolls, one of which is heavily mutilated, her favorite, where black magic or voodoo is at least suggested as an underlying cause. The image of seeing Taylor in a draconian mental asylum is rather shocking, something of a rude awakening for the audience. What the film lacks is any degree of depth or profundity, especially for such a lengthy film, so there's little to hold the audience's attention except the rather ghoulish game of watching for before and after changes in Clift's disfigured face. The idea of an extensive dream sequence sounds amazing, which of course, includes a better developed contrasting portrait of reality. The symbolic use of the golden raintree does have a dreamlike effect, and is interwoven into the film, but it feels overly simplistic and childlike, comparative to the myth of Johnny Appleseed. Upon viewing the film, it's hard to associate anything in it with great literature.
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