El extraño amor de Martha Ivers

this movie is one of those lost gems. barbara stanwyck and kirk douglas do a great job but they are not the reason this is a great gem. van heflin (of shane) and lizabeth scott are superb and in some ways overshadow kirk douglas in his screen debut and stanwyck. lizabeth smolders and pouts her way to perfection, what a babe!!. lizabeth should have been a huge star especially in the film noir genre. both van heflin and lizabeth scott are massively underrated and typically not remembered. that is a shame since they both were fine actors, that is the present generations loss. the plot is superb and throws some nice curves that keeps you on your toes.

An engrossing and creative film-noir, "The Strange Love of Martha Ivers" offers an interesting and unpredictable story with quite a bit of commentary about its characters. Van Heflin gives a particularly memorable performance, with plenty of help from Barbara Stanwyck and a very young-looking Kirk Douglas.

The story is very well-conceived, showing first a tumultuous series of events in the youth of its main characters, and then showing how their adult lives are still shaped by things that happened long ago. The three child actors are all able to make their characters ring true with the adult versions played later by the stars, and the script makes good use of the opportunities that the setup offers.

The tension is built up skillfully, and it never lets up. Although the danger and the drama involving the characters is more than enough to carry a good movie, it also brings out plenty of observations about the characters' personalities and their decisions in life, and this adds additional depth to an already very interesting story.

Lewis Milestone's The Strange Love of Martha Ivers presents a, well, strange case. Much if not most of it fits comfortably into the noir cycle that was just gathering its head of steam. But its look, save some recurrent bus-station shots, suggests lavish and well-lit prestige productions (as does its length), and in its deep-rooted narrative it harks back to sprawling, brooding melodramas such as Kings Row.

That narrative is broken-backed as well, with two disjointed time frames. The movie opens in 1928 in sooty Iverstown, a steel city almost certainly somewhere in Pennsylvania. There we meet, as teenagers, three of the story's principals: Unruly Martha, making yet another attempt to run away from her wealthy, rigid aunt (Judith Anderson); her street-urchin buddy Sammy; and prissy school-teacher's son Walter. On the night Anderson is bludgeoned to death (to the tune of lightning, thunder and crashing rains), Sammy waits for Martha to join him; when she doesn't, he signs up with the circus and blows town.

Fast-forward to 1946, when decorated veteran Sammy (Van Heflin), headed west, cracks up his car and finds himself once more in Iverstown. He meets up with the fourth main character, Lizabeth Scott, who not unlike himself has been knocked about (she's a jailbird). When the police lock her up for violating parole, he pays a visit to his old friend Walter (Kirk Douglas, in his debut), now the district attorney, to secure her release.

Douglas, who rarely draws a sober breath, holds the office thanks to the ambition and power of his wife Martha (Barbara Stanwyck). (The original publicity campaign cautioned `Whisper her name!') When she shows up unexpectedly and warmly greets Heflin, all Douglas' insecurities and jealousies erupt; not only does he suspect that Heflin has always been his wife's first love but he fears that Heflin, privy to the long-buried secret of the aunt's death, can undo his marriage, his success, and the industrial empire Stanwyck has built. He takes heavy-handed measures to defend himself, blackmailing Scott into framing Heflin. But hasn't reckoned with the resourcefulness of his adversary – or with the wilfulness of his wife.

But the story is really plotted along romantic coordinates whose intersections are punctuated by Miklos Rozsa's throbbing score. Douglas loves Stanwyck, who really loves Heflin, while Scott loves Heflin, who loves her back but still has unfinished business with Stanwyck (no wonder Douglas drinks – nobody loves him). And in the rondelay of turnabouts and betrayals (or seeming betrayals), The Strange Love of Martha Ivers slips perilously close to soap opera. Its stately pace and prosperous look give it a dated, ponderous feel, quite unlike the rough sleekness of film noir, though there's an unmistakable echo of Double Indemnity – Stanwyck's performance as Martha Ivers reworks hers as Phyllis Dietrichson, right down to the concluding love-death tableau.

But, while occasionally cumbersome, The Strange Love of Martha Ivers stands on its own as an overwrought, obsessive drama, with a very topical acknowledgment of the insulation that money and power can buy, and of the moral and social corruption that inflexibly comes as part of the package. It's a strange movie, all right, but a haunting one as well.

A powerhouse cast is assembled for "The Strange Love of Martha Ivers." It's a treat to watch this able quintet at work, making for an engrossing film experience.

Barbara Stanwyck is at her peak--sure, confident, and unfailing. Van Heflin's natural talent makes everything he does seem effortless. Kirk Douglas offers a most impressive film debut in what, in retrospect, is an uncharacteristic role. Lizabeth Scott (who seems to me a fascinating cross between Lauren Bacall and Rosemary Clooney) is constantly engaging. Long after her part has faded, Scott's image remains indelibly fixed in the memory. And finally, the great Judith Anderson is on in a strong character role.

Miklos Rozsa's compositional style is remarkable in its adaptablity. Close one's eyes, and the film could well be set a thousand years earlier--or any point in between. Which is to say, it's general, while at the same time, specific.

The writing team headed by Robert Rossen created a slick and saucy script, which holds interest throughout, and Hal B. Wallis was sharp enough to retain this productional team formula for many years. Were the film to have been given a perhaps more poetic--less Gothic--title, it might have enjoyed even greater stature in the annals of the genre.

As it is, "Ivers" is a worthy member of the noir film family.

This is a well-written, well-acted, thoroughly absorbing film noir. The always-great Barbara Stanwyck is at her sultriest as Martha, and Van Heflin is incredibly sexy and masculine as Sam. Watching this movie, you wouldn't think Kirk Douglas, who plays the weak-willed, alcoholic Walter, would soon become a bigger star than Heflin and play the tough, romantic hero parts like Sam Masterson. Douglas excelled at those parts, as he did with a very different type of part in this movie, but I can't help thinking that if Heflin had gotten more of those roles, he would have been just as big a star. Husky-voiced Lizabeth Scott rounds out the star foursome nicely as Toni, a wrong-side-of-the-tracks girl who's been burned by trusting the wrong men. This movie, more than most of its era, trades in shades of gray; the "bad" characters, Martha and Walter, have reasons for the evil they do, while the "good" characters, Sam and Toni, are no angels--he's a decorated war hero, but he makes his living by gambling and once killed a man in self-defense, while she just got out of jail. This complexity adds to the film's interest. The film also provides a believable depiction of small-town life; it's realistic, no Bedford Falls. The flashback portraying several of the characters as teenagers has the spark of reality as well. Highly recommended.