Adios a la vida

The most interesting part of this singular film is the co-acting between Margaret Sullavan and Viveca Lindfors. They both love the same man, and Viveca is intent on leaving him not knowing that his wife Margaret is dying, while Margaret is intent on leaving her family to her after her death. They are rivals but very sympathetic and find each other, and Viveca also has a tragedy behind, having lost her husband in the war after too short a marriage, and somehow they find each other in their mutual fathomless sorrow and sadness.

The story is not remarkable. It's an ordinary melodrama in the style of Douglas Sirk, Margaret thinks she is crowning her family happiness by at last having another child, and hopefully a son, when the doctor tells her otherwise. She forces him to tell her the whole truth, which is that she only has six months left to live. She decides not to tell her husband (Wendell Corey), but although he gets mixed up with the lovely Viveca, who is employed as his assistant, he decides that Margaret and their daughter (Natalie Wood) mean more to him than Viveca, without knowing his wife is dying.

This is a rather ordinary sob story, but Margaret Sullavan turns it into something much more advanced by her heart-rending acting, which is totally sincere and almost unbearably convincing all the way. Your heart will bleed for her, and you will sob throughout the film, if you are human. Only she knows what she is up to, while the others just carry on, believing she is on as well, and her doctor plays a key role as he knows the whole truth and has to stand by her without any power to do anything. To all this comes the very prudent and delicate score by George During which gradually transcends into Brahms (1st symphony, last movement), which eventually gives the film something of an apotheosis of the kind that Frank Borage used to excel in, who made several of Margaret Sullavan's best films. She is forgotten today, but all her films stand out still, and she was actually married to Henry Fonda to begin with. This was her last film and in some ways both her most personal and typical.

No Sad Songs For Me expresses what Margaret Sullavan wishes when she learns she has terminal cancer. She thinks she's pregnant, but that's the verdict from her doctor John McIntire. Her problem is now how best to arrange her life's final months.

She'll be leaving behind husband Wendell Corey and daughter Natalie Wood. And Sullavan has an interesting problem on her hands in the person of Viveca Lindfors, a new employee for her surveyor husband. There's a growing attraction between them and normally that would call for claws to come out. But Sullavan is thinking of Wood as well and face it Lindfors is a nice person who's not doing anything to encourage Corey.

As for Wendell he's behaving like a perfect gentleman, but the signs are there.

This is a fine and literate adult drama about a woman facing terminal illness and looking to make the best of it for herself and her family. Sullavan who mostly played tragic roles on screen gives her farewell big screen performance in No Sad Songs For Me. She did do television and stage work until her suicide in 1960.

In fact all the members of that screen family ended badly. Natalie Wood drowned way too young and Wendell Corey became a misanthropic alcoholic who died too young of liver cancer. Read Kirk Douglas's memoir The Ragman's Son to find out about how Corey's career turned bad.

But in this film all the players give strong performances and the film never turns maudlin. That final shot with Lindfors and Wood with Sullavan's shadow looming over them is unforgettable.

No actress during the golden age of Hollywood handled death with more soulful dignity than Margaret Sullavan, an actress unjustly forgotten even though she gave peerless performances in MGM classics like Frank Borzage's "Three Comrades" and Ernst Lubitsch's "The Shop Around the Corner". This modestly budgeted 1950 sudser was her last film, a decade before her own untimely death from a drug overdose. This was one of only sixteen Sullavan made since she preferred acting on stage rather than celluloid, which was a shame since she was utterly sublime no matter what the vehicle. In this appropriate swan song, Sullavan plays Mary Scott, a suburban wife and mother who learns too late that she is dying of cancer. Director Rudolph Maté holds the camera on the veteran actress for long takes as she reacts to this news.

Maté lets her mercurial moods dictate the tone of the film and allows Mary to find a way to die in the most mature way possible. This is where the insightful screenplay by Howard Koch ("Casablanca") rates a cut above similar-minded soap operas. Witness the adult way he has Mary deal with her husband Brad's infidelity and her pragmatic approach in setting up Brad's assistant-turned-mistress, a serious-minded Norwegian draftsperson named Chris, as her successor in the family. While Mary's selflessness is likely to look excessive by contemporary standards, Sullavan brings such an affecting combination of pathos and intelligence to her character that she transcends the innate limitations of the material, including a few predictable turns like a high-speed drive on a deserted highway and a comically drunken scene in an all-night diner.

She even has a couple of moments where she gets to recreate famous dramatic cues from "Three Comrades" such as her irritation at the ticking of an alarm clock and her valiant struggle to get out of bed. Character actor Wendell Corey does a fine job as Brad as does Viveca Lindfors ("The Way We Were") as early feminist Chris, although their affair is severely downplayed to appease 1950 censors. At 11, Natalie Wood was still five years away from "Rebel Without a Cause", but she manages to play Mary and Brad's precocious daughter with aplomb. The film has a low-budget look about it, but it doesn't take away from Sullavan's artistry which is on full display here. To the strains of Brahms' "Symphony no. 1 in C minor", the last scene packs the necessary emotional wallop even though you know the film's outcome from nearly the beginning. There is a newly remastered print on the 2011 DVD release.

Although it's sometimes difficult to do, judging a 1950's film with 2000's social mores and sense of letting it all hang out is probably not the best way to view this film, a sensitive and understated tale of a woman with cancer. Having lived through a time when the word was usually whispered rather than stated, and was usually not talked about in polite company, I know that Sullivan's horror at discovering not only that she cannot have a child but that she is also stricken with a killer illness is quietly realistic for the time (this is not a spoiler, such information revealed with the first ten minutes of the film). Sullivan delivers an amazing subtle performance, understated in her refusal to stage hysterical scenes of unhappiness, quietly demonstrating strength in attempting, as many people do, to not "become a burden." Underrated Wendell Corey, who is a powerful player in such melodramas as Harriet Craig and Desert Fury, is Sullivan's Mr. Average Guy, an amiable husband who loves his wife, kid, and work--and it is at work he meets a young woman who tempts him, a woman whose history reveals some hidden strengths. Enough said. Sure it's a weeper, supremely so as it gathers steam, but unlike a Crawford or Davis film, Sullivan's heroine is all about self-effacement and loving no matter what the cost, and thus appears to many contemporary viewers as a dated woman; the Oscar-nominated music score George Dunning (with plenty of help from Brahms) constantly underscores the film with a quiet persuasiveness; the supporting cast, including a delightfully thoughtful Natalie Wood deliver the goods.

I do like sad movies, ones that tugs at your heartstrings, I do love the movie Somewhere in Time by the way. However this movie is the most frustrating movie I have watched in a long time. What I don't like about this so-called tearjerker is that the wife, played by Margaret Sullivan, never tells her husband she is dying. He only finds it out at the very end of the movie by error when he sees a pill bottle on the bedroom table and calls up the doctor who tells him. Even the doctor doesn't tell him. She thinks she's saving him grief by not telling him, but to me she's just selfish. This was six months after she knew she had cancer. The first half an hour was okay, but when her husband is having an affair with his co-worker, even then she tells no one. Nothing in this movie seemed genuine. They even played a melody from a Brahm's symphony which I love, over and over to the point where I couldn't stand to listen to it any more. The acting was artificial from everyone. If you like soap operas this might be enjoyable, but for people who like sad movies every once in a while, this was disappointing and a waste of my time. Margaret Sullivan's last movie was not her best