Ein Platz an der Sonne

This 1950s melodrama was an interesting, involving story. It's part film-noir, too, which I liked. I say that because the last third of the film featured an expectation of some dreaded act about to be committed, giving it a film noir feel.

One thing for sure, whatever you label the movie: it's well-acted, well-directed and well-photographed. Regarding the latter, this really looks good on DVD. No surprise it's directed well since George Stevens was the director. His resume speaks for itself.

Obviously Montgomery Clift and Elizabeth Taylor are the "big names" in this film, but I found Shelly Winters and the character she played to be the most intriguing. She wasn't really appealing yet one could certainly identify with her feelings of insecurity with Taylor as her competition. "Liz" was in in her prime, looks-wise, with an absolutely classic face.

Anyway, watching the character studies of the antsy Winters and the troublesome Clift were interesting. Clift, as is the case with most of us, causes his own problems and things slowly unravel for him. The story is another example of what can happen when one tries to cover up the truth. It comes back to bite you, big-time!

I really found it refreshing, however, to see Clift's attitude at the end. It's the exact opposite of what you hear today. He actually takes responsibility for his actions.

Poor and uneducated George Eastman (Montgomery Clift) unwittingly sets a trap for himself when he takes an entry-level job at his rich uncle's factory, which has a prohibition on male employees dating female employees. He just can't resist one of the girls in his department, the pitiful and whiny Alice Tripp (wonderfully played by Shelley Winters). Eventually, George gets a promotion and is invited into the upper echelon of his uncle's social world, where he meets wealthy and beautiful Angela Vickers (a breathless Elizabeth Taylor). Naturally, he falls in love with Angela. But a complication with Alice leaves him unable to break off his relationship with her.

That's the setup for this George Stevens-directed film that plays rather like a modern Greek tragedy. Everything about "A Place In The Sun" is high quality: the production design, the lavish Edith Head costumes, the wonderful editing, and that great B&W cinematography with those marvelous close-up shots, and overlapping dissolves that cleverly advance the plot.

All three principal actors do a splendid job. And they get solid support from a top notch secondary cast that includes Raymond Burr and the interesting Anne Revere.

The story clearly plays up social class differences, with the haughty rich looking down their noses at common workers. The film's tone varies from romantic, to sad, to suspenseful. At mysterious Loon Lake where significant events occur, the cinematic atmosphere is heavy with anticipation. It's like something out of a Hitchcock thriller.

I've never cared much for sad love stories, and the film does seem a tad dated. Still, it's so well made it can be appreciated by most everyone but the terminally shallow. It has a powerful ending, one that accentuates the acting accomplishments of Clift and especially of Taylor. "A Place In The Sun" was nominated for nine academy awards, and winner of six. I'd say this is one time when Oscar voters got it right.

George Eastman takes up friendly offer from his uncle to go work in the highly prosperous Eastman bathing-suit factory. Formerly a bell hop at a hotel, and born out of a relatively poor, but religiously devout home, George is spellbound by how the upper crust live. As he starts to climb the social ladder he becomes besotted with his cousin's beautiful partner, Angela Vickers. While at the same time neglecting his girlfriend and mother of his unborn child, Alice Tripp. The outcome of George's confused emotions will have devastating effects on everyone involved...

A Place In The Sun is one of those revered, yet seemingly divisive classic pictures that I believe deserves every bit of praise heaped upon it. Based on the Theodore Dreiser novel, An American Tragedy {and the Patrick Kearney play}, it's a slow simmering piece that boasts technical greatness and a class division script that is intriguingly shrouded by a real life sad story. The book and subsequent film versions {Josef von Sternberg filmed an adaptation in 1931} are working from the real case of Chester Gillette and his girlfriend, Grace Brown. To expand further would result in major spoilers but it's a case that is readily available to anyone with internet access. Here with this adaptation, director George Stevens {sublime direction} has gathered all the things available to him and crafted a Gothic, almost dreamy, classic amongst classics. The source, and Sternberg's take on the novel may well be more stark and grimly oppressive, but this has such high cinema values it positively begs you to invest your very being with it.

The story behind the scenes is itself worthy of a movie, Stevens clashing constantly with Montgomery Clift {Eastman} and Shelley Winters {Tripp}, Clift because he would only take motivation from his personal coach, Mira Rostova, and Winters because Stevens had never wanted her cast in the first place! Then there is the Elizabeth Taylor {Angela Vickers} factor, blissfully unaware of Clift's burgeoning homosexuality, she reciprocated Clift's adoration of her by falling for him big time, the results, all captured by Stevens, are akin to being put under a spell that you simply can't turn away from. Montgomery Clift was one of the best actors of his generation, here in spite of a secretly confused emotional state, the sparks that ping off Taylor and himself are the kind that few lauded chemistry couples in movie history have ever gotten close too. Monty Clift is worth every penny or cent that is spent to watch him perform, here is yet another performance of emotional oomph to only confirm his standing as a true giant of American actors.

Academy Awards went to Best Director, Best Screenplay {Michael Wilson & Harry Brown}, Best Cinematography {William Mellor}, Best Costume Design {Edith Head}, Best Editing {William Hornbeck} and Best Score {Franx Waxman}, all of them deserved, with Waxman's score one of the true greats of 50s cinema, a character in itself and something to totally lose yourself in. Clift & Winters were both nominated in the Best actor/Actress categories respectively, and really in any other year they surely would have won, while the film itself was also nominated for Best Film. Ultimately it's the story itself that makes A Place In The Sun such a beguiling viewing, it's love divided by classes, no middle ground here, it's the rich and beautiful on one side, on the other is the plain and poor, the result is a majestic piece of cinema. 10/10

This film is very different from anything of it's time that I have ever seen.A man has a one night stand with a coworker and gets her pregnant.THEN he meets the woman of his dreams,the woman with everything;charm,good looks and Daddy's money.We then have a man who is torn between choosing to have it all and doing the right thing.The result of his struggles ends up very tragically as you will see.I was very taken aback by the film's sexual overtones,though it was only hinted at,of course.With the barrage of remakes in recent years,I am surprised it has not been remade with stronger sexual content.This is a very enjoyable film with good performances all around,particularly those of Shelley Winters and Monty Clift.Liz Taylor's strong screen presence is also a delight.A definite thumbs up.

Bringing Theodore Dreiser's sprawling novel An American Tragedy to the screen must have been a daunting task, made harder by the constraints Paramount imposed on director George Stevens. The studio had lost big on a version made 20 years earlier, under Josef von Sternberg, and had little faith in a remake. So, hobbled by a tight budget, Stevens scaled back his ambitious plans but delivered, perhaps even to his own surprise, a superbly crafted and and powerfully sustained work of movie art.

He was lucky that Paramount, edgy about the story, gave him a cast that would guarantee not only good box office but solid performances as well. Montgomery Clift, Elizabeth Taylor and Shelly Winters take the principal roles, with, in the last third of the movie, extra oomph courtesy of Raymond Burr (in a role that may have nabbed him the Perry Mason franchise).

The jaws of the vise Clift finds himself squeezed into are class and sex. Barely educated, raised by stern members of a religious sect, he luckily (or not) happens to be the shirt-tail nephew of a prosperous entrepreneur who casually offers him work in his factory. Awkward and lonesome, Clift escapes the drudgery of his job by taking up with a mousy co-worker (Winters, toned way down from her platinum-bombshell image at the time). But his nose-to-the-grindstone ways attract the attention of his uncle, who rewards him with a promotion and an invitation up to the manor.

There he meets Taylor and launches an obsession about her, reinforced by a neon sign visible from his window that blazes her surname through his restless nights (she's another child of an industrial fortune, raised in wealth and privilege). Somehow, she falls for him – and, need it be added, he for her – despite his coming from the wrong side of the tracks (she hasn't the faintest notion that for people like him, life may not be the blithe affair it is for her).

Only one inconvenient fact keeps Clift from taking his rightful place in the sun: He's left Winters pregnant. The two worlds he occupies are destined to collide, and crash they do when Winters phones him, in the midst of a Hawaiian-themed luau at Taylor's summer place on the lake, to issue her ultimatum: Marry her or she'll spill their sordid secret. He leaves abruptly to meet Winters, desperately trying to assemble the plan which will seal three fates.

Stevens sustains an overwhelming, ominous momentum, unbroken by even a hint of levity (not even a single bit player is allowed to lapse into shtik). Languorous dissolves and superimposed images heighten the sense of inevitability as each scene, each event glides seamlessly into the next.

Maybe he wasn't able to pile on the exhaustive social commentary that bulked up Dreiser's novel, but everywhere there's sharp detail that he adroitly leaves to be noticed. When Clift shows up hours late at his intimate birthday party in Winter's cramped room, with the tiny table pushed up against her marble washstand, the ice cream has warmed to lumpy syrup (a self-homage to a similar scene in Steven's Alice Adams?). With an island combo playing merrily on, Clift sports a lei and eats pineapple out of its shell when Winters calls to break the spell – and this South-Seas reverie is offered up not as Veblenesque excess, but merely as the way Taylor's crowd spend their days and evenings and nights in an endless round of heedless gaiety.

The apex of the film's crescendo is handled with tight, quiet assurance – the reckoning in a rowboat upon a deserted lake. Dusk gathers among the pines like fog, the loons call back and forth, and the rippling waves reflect a demented flash into Clift's eye as he wrestles with his conscience. Winters natters nervously about the dreary life they'll spend together while his head swims with luminous visions of Taylor. Then, destiny catches.... Romantic but unsentimental, serious but without pretension, gripping without stooping to the manipulative, A Place in the Sun ranks as a masterpiece of American cinema.