Weißer Oleander

Dragonwyck (1946)

A high drama, historical drama, and drama drama. And the drama part works, so that's most of the movie. It's a fairly stiff arrangement, however, including the purposely stiff Vincent Price, who plays a noble Dutch American (a patroon) with a fabulous estate on the Hudson. Director Mankiewicz is great at nuanced characterizations, including a zealous father played by Walter Huston. This may not be his best product, but it's rich with details and lush textures both visually and in the narrative, and it gets more intense as the small events come to conflict by the end.

What sometimes hobbles the whole thing is the simplified tenant farmer revolt, whatever its roots. (I live near to where this is fictionally set, and there is no trace of this kind of culture at all here, just some place names, and I have a suspicion it was never this exaggerated, not in the 1800s, though perhaps in the 1600s, when the Dutch really ruled the area, then called New Netherland.) The pageantry, the great house, the storms, and the big dances, all of this is romantic Bronte territory, well done, and great atmosphere. The music by Alfred Newman and the photography by Arthur C. Miller, both great talents at their professional best, do their usual best, as well.

So what works best, beyond the overall mood, is the presence of the two women: the visiting niece of course, the star, Gene Tierney, and equally, in a subtle way, Connie Marshall, the suffering wife of the patroon. Tierney has a kind of cool reserve that works here, letting the light work on her pretty head. Eventually, the handsome doctor's role takes on more complex importance (played by Glenn Langan), and Price has a fine end, which Price fans will greatly admire.

A cross between "Jane Eyre" and "Rebecca", "Dragonwyck" was the kind of Gothic Romance that was very popular at the time and which stays just on the right side of camp, though coming when it did it might be difficult to keep a straight face at times; it's almost like a parody of the books that influenced it. It marked the directorial debut of Joseph L. Mankiewicz who handles the fairly daft material as well as can be expected. Gene Tierney is the Connecticut farm girl brought to the great house of the title by her distant cousin Vincent Price as a kind of governess to his young daughter. He's got a slightly dotty wife, (that fine and underused actress Vivienne Osborne), and, of course, a housekeeper verging on the sinister, (Spring Byington), not to mention scores of tenant farmers, all of whom hate his guts.

I always had trouble accepting Tierney as poor farm girls. Once she puts on a ballgown she becomes more like herself while Price, in the best of his early roles, is excellent as the rich patroon, (that's basically a landowner to you and me), and there's good work, too, from Walter Huston and Anne Revere, (everybody's mother in the movies), as Tierney's parents. Only the dreadfully wooden Glenn Langan, (he grew up to be "The Amazing Colossal Man"), hampers proceedings as the local doctor in love with Tierney.

It's certainly a handsome looking picture. beautifully designed and photographed in black and white by the great Arthur Miller, and there's oodles of plot to be getting on with. In the Mankiewicz canon, it's been somewhat overlooked but it's very enjoyable; 'a women's picture' to be sure but one with a very sturdy backbone.

This is a rare case where the movie adaptation is more enjoyable than the novel it was based on. I liked Vincent Price immensely in this movie; he is creepy yet seductive, and I can readily imagine a young woman getting caught in his web without realizing the danger. He adds much more nuance and subtlety to the character of Van Ryn, who in the novel came across as just a scary guy to be avoided at all costs. I wish it would come out on video - it's definitely an enjoyable "rainy day" movie.

"Dragonwyck" has the atmosphere of a Hawthorne's tale. Typical is the contrast between the clean, blessed New England farm where Miranda (Gene Tierney) lives with her parents, and the bleak, doomed ancient manor where she goes and later marries the aristocratic Van Ryn (Vincent Price). Gene Tierney's angelic beauty and wholesome look perfectly fit to a romantic heroine in Hawthorne's style: she recalls the Phoebe Pyncheon of "The house of seven gables" (the novel; I haven't seen the movie). Miranda shows another typical aspect of Hawthorne's heroines: differently from the classical romantic maiden, Miranda is not apt to be a meek innocent victim of the force of evil, but she is ready to face it and to fight for her life. Note Tierney's skill in entering into the personality of the characters she plays. She was a pattern of sex-appeal in movies such as "Laura" and "Leave Her to Heaven": here her Miranda is an example of maidenly modesty. From her arrival to the castle the scenes become increasingly darker. The black-and-white photography is outstanding. Vincent Price gives his usual superb performance in the role of the mysterious Van Ryn, whose extreme haughtiness and family pride drive him to madness. Of course, nowadays we follow the story of "Dragonwyck" with a certain amount of irony, yet, perhaps for this very reason, the movie is a treat. I wish current movies were like it (and also that present actresses had a beauty comparable to Gene's, but this is plainly unimaginable).

The success of Hitchcock's 'Rebecca (1940)' triggered a mighty insurgence of similarly-themed Gothic post-marriage melodramas – in which naive young women mistakenly fall in love with wealthy but secretly-disturbed, and usually recently widowed, husbands. They were whisked off the production shelf with admirable efficiency, each title starring a promising or established young beauty of the decade: Fontaine in 'Rebecca,' Bergman in 'Gaslight (1944),' and Bennett in 'Secret Beyond the Door (1947).' John M. Stahl's 'Leave Her to Heaven (1945)' is notable in that it turns the gender tables, emphasising the lovely Gene Tierney as the spouse whose dubious intentions could destroy an innocent lover's life. The following year, in 'Dragonwyck (1946),' Tierney appeared in a more conventional variation of the theme, as an inexperienced Connecticut farm girl who falls for Nicholas Van Ryn (Vincent Price), an aristocratic patroon who represents arrogance, injustice and everything against which her strictly-religious father (Walter Huston) had warned her. This, the fourth and final film to co-star Tierney and Price, features one of the latter's most demented, unforgettable performances.

I could tell you that I watched 'Dragonwyck' to enjoy the earliest available film from director Joseph L. Mankiewicz, but you and I both know this to be untrue: I watched it because of Gene. Her mere presence is enough to brighten up even the darkest drama, displaying a graceful poise even as the picture's innocent and vulnerable heroine. Price, in one of his early, largely-neglected roles, is absolutely wonderful, a simmering melting-pot of self-pride and contempt, obscured behind a icy blue-eyed stare. He obviously relished the opportunity to play a tyrannical aristocrat wife-hater, though his drug addiction (presumably to opium) regrettably remains unexplored beyond a brief mention. Glenn Langan, playing the obligatory nice-guy character, is a largely uninteresting creation, serving only to remind us that it's the raving maniacs whom we enjoy watching the most. Cinematographer Arthur C. Miller pulls out the usual photographic tricks, turning the looming Dragonwyck estate into a moody mansion of shadows and suffused light.

The screenplay was adapted by Mankiewicz from a novel by Anya Seton, and, despite the story's clear derivation from previous films, his writing is adequate if unremarkable. Some elements have undoubtedly aged, most especially Miranda Wells' ecstatic Bible-school exclamation of "golly Moses!," and nowadays Nicholas' fervent atheism doesn't seem like quite the evil quality it was sixty years ago. The story itself also feels half-cocked, the screenplay skipping key moments of the narrative, as though with the understanding that we've seen enough of these sorts of films to fill in the gaps ourselves. Additionally, and perhaps most damningly, the supernatural subplot – of the tragic Van Ryn ancestor who can occasionally be heard playing beautiful music – is underexplored to such an extent that I wonder why this was even included to begin with. But, of course, in my haste to criticise, I'm neglecting to mention the finer points of Mankiewicz's screenplay, with plenty of sharp dialogue and strong characterisations for the most part. This isn't 'Rebecca,' but it's worth a look.