“There’s Always Tomorrow” (1956)
The barrier for some to diving headfirst into Sirk’s filmography has been the dreaded ‘M’ word, and we’re not talking about mumblecore here. Melodrama, like musicals (yet another ‘M’) has always been something of a bad word. But in case you had any doubt, “There’s Always Tomorrow” once again showed that his use of melodrama is, like any gifted genre deconstructionist, merely a comfortable avenue for the audiences to experience the real emotions and characters that are Sirk’s prime directives. In ‘Tomorrow’, he locks his aim, like a sniper shooting for the truth, on Fred MacMurray’s put-upon, attention-starved husband and father. He’s desperate to get away from the family routine for some quality time — away from their three kids — with the missus. Life being life, things just keep getting in the way, until MacMurray’s Clifford, a successful toy manufacturer, happens upon an old friend played by the radiant, sophisticated Barbara Stanwyck, who’s a bit lonely and recently divorced. Nine times out of a ten, be it typical Hollywood tripe, a soap opera or even a good, conventional movie, would have these two engage in a torrid, destructive love affair. But Sirk has more interesting, left-of-center concerns with this film, making for a complex, layered drama where just about every character is vital to the outcome and the tropes of most family dramas are upended and twisted. MacMurray, in what must have been a mind-bending feat at the time, subtly and brilliantly plays his role like that of a nagging, desperate wife, just wanting to be alone with his partner. Because of these atypical tactics, the film is alive, able to transcend the many shortcomings of melodrama, reaching the more satisfying descriptor of simply being a very good drama. Most Sirk-olytes will tell you his lush color films feature his best work, but the lovely black and white photography in ‘Tomorrow’ only adds to the murky grays of the narrative. Don’t sleep on this one.
“Magnificent Obsession” (1954)
Based on the Lloyd C. Douglas novel of the same name, Sirk’s “Magnificent Obsession,” is one of the great tearjerkers of the 1950s. In his third film with Sirk, Rock Hudson, plays Bob Merrick, a rich caddish, playboy type, who in a reckless accident crashes his speedboat, and is resuscitated with equipment borrowed from the town saint Dr. Phillips. Phillips then suffers an attack of his own and dies while his equipment is being rushed back too late to save him. Changed by the unfortunate ramifications of his accident and resuscitation, Merrick is guided by an older intellectual and artist, Edward Randolph (Otto Kruger), who helps him in his mission to make things up to Dr. Phillips widow, Helen (played by Jane Wyman). On his quest for contrition there are many twists and turns, which are a touch soap opera-y (he accidentally blinds her, he then pretends to be someone else, then they fall in love and so on.) However Sirk’s aptitude for melodrama makes it all work and gives the high-stakes emotions a deeply accessible poignancy that will have the harshest cynic reaching for the tissues. The crisply-hued Technicolor only serves to make the mix of spirituality and sentimentality feel more heightened, while fantastic performances from both Hudson and Wyman also go a long way, and Wyman was rightfully nominated for an Academy Award for Best Actress for her role. “Magnificent Obsession” was a box office hit for Sirk and Universal, and though it has been criticized for its hokeyness, there is no denying its importance and worth in Sirk’s canon.