Mourning Becomes Electra

Most of the professional reviews of this unjustly neglected film dismiss it as "stagy", "wordy", and "dull". Yes, it is wordy, if you consider a film entirely propelled by dialogue wordy, and yes, it is stagy if you consider a film largely confined to a single set stagy, with no fancy cutting, camera tricks, or quick editing to disturb or interrupt the flow of language. And yes, at nearly three hours, it is one of the longest film versions of a classic Eugene O'Neill play ever made. (The original play clocks in at six hours!)

I myself have never been able to understand those critics who claim to appreciate great achievements in film and theatre, and yet grow restless at the thought of too much dialogue in a film. Who cares, when the dialogue is written by one of the greatest playwrights this country has produced, and when the storyline is as riveting as this?

O'Neill never actually wrote a suspense drama, but this updated revision of the Electra-Orestes-Agamemnon myth is as close as he ever came to it. The story features elements of murder, revenge, insanity, and more than a hint of incest, and when Rosalind Russell as Lavinia and Michael Redgrave as Orin, her beloved brother, plot together to carry out their scheme, the story becomes as gripping as any suspense film ever made.

There are very few completely calm moments in this film; nearly all of the performances take on a quality of seeming to be on the verge of a total nervous collapse. Some of Rosalind Russell's acting, particularly during the first hour or so, may strike you as slightly over-the-top, especially her facial expression (accompanied by an ominous musical chord) when she sees her thoroughly evil mother Christine (Katina Paxinou) in a lover's clinch with Adam Brant (Leo Genn), an illegitimate relative of the Mannon family, while Christine's husband (Raymond Massey) is off fighting the Civil War, but once Russell becomes the cold, scheming avenger, she is magnificent. Michael Redgrave is slightly uncomfortable with his attempt an an American accent, but he effectively conveys the essential goodness of a conscience-stricken young man on the verge of madness who only wants to do the right thing. Katina Paxinou is despicably nasty and self-dramatizing as the utterly selfish Christine Mannon. Raymond Massey ,so often cast as a villain, gives what is one of the best, most dignified and most restrained performances of his career as Ezra Mannon, head of the family, a man who is supposedly unfeeling and callous (according to Paxinou's character, but then, can we trust her?), but who in the story reveals only a genuinely sympathetic and tragic side of himself. Leo Genn is sincere as Christine's misguided and basically kind lover, and Kirk Douglas, in one of his first film roles, plays Lavinia's bewildered and decent suitor.

Because of the film's disastrous reception at the box office, a barbaric decision was made to cut an entire hour by simply lopping off the entire final section, unnecessarily mutilating a film that deserves to take its place as one of the great dramatic stage-to-film adaptations of all time, and certainly one of the few great film adaptations of a Eugene O'Neill play. His plays, on the whole, have been frequently distorted and/or mutilated for the big screen, unlike Tennessee Williams's, whose works made it relatively unscathed, and even sometimes improved, to film. O'Neill's plays have not fared as well on film as they have on television, but along with 1962's "Long Day's Journey Into Night", and 1940's "The Long Voyage Home", "Mourning Becomes Electra" can be rightfully considered a film classic.

Mourning Becomes Electra did for Rosalind Russell what Nightmare Alley did for Tyrone Power. It established her as an actress with range not previously realized and in her case she got an Oscar nomination for Best Actress. But it was an absolute financial flop.

Dudley Nichols in his adaptation of Eugene O'Neill's marathon play about the Mannon family of New England managed to get it down to almost three hours in length. In its first release that's about how long it was and later when the public proved indifferent to it, it was cut further rendering it totally unintelligible for O'Neill purists.

Rosalind Russell had a three picture deal going with RKO films and one of those films she wanted to do was Sister Kenny whom she had met and was very impressed with. According to her memoirs Dudley Nichols agreed to help with Sister Kenny if she would do Mourning Becomes Electra. She actually wanted to play the role of the mother that Katina Paxinou did, but had to settle for daughter Lavinia.

The film got good critical acclaim and should have stayed in the art house circuit. But RKO put it in general release and it lost money big time. Russell's Sister Kenny biographical film also went the same route and she also got an Oscar nomination. However when Howard Hughes bought RKO he took one look at the red ink beside both of those films and told her to forget that third picture on the deal. No more art house stuff would come out of RKO while Hughes was in charge.

O'Neill work is always long on characterization, but this one could have been better. A very static camera was at work here, always filming scenes from a single perspective. Both the films of Long Day's Journey Into Night and The Iceman Cometh though they are both taking place on one set are far better done for the cinema than Mourning Becomes Electra.

Russell mentioned that her best accolade was a handwritten note from Eugene O'Neill himself about how much he liked her performance. It was better than the Academy Award that everyone thought she would get, but Loretta Young got for The Farmer's Daughter.

Michael Redgrave was nominated for Best Actor, but he also lost to Ronald Colman for A Double Life. It was back to the British cinema for him after this.

Russell and Redgrave are brother and sister, children of Raymond Massey and Katina Paxinou. Paxinou has a lover on the side in Leo Genn who's also courting Russell. Russell finds out and sets loose a whole chain of events that witness the destruction of the family.

Kirk Douglas and Nancy Coleman are another brother and sister named Niles who get involved with the Mannon offspring. This was an early film for Douglas, had he been a bigger movie name then, he might have taken on the role Redgrave had.

No matter how badly executed Mourning Becomes Electra was for the screen if I had a note from Eugene O'Neill praising my performance, that would be all the accolade I'd ever need.

This is one of the best acted, entertaining movies I've ever seen. I don't know why it is so bashed by the media. Rosalind Russell is perfect as the overwrought Lavinia, whose hatred gets the best of her. Russell is simply superb. Michael Redgrave, while not as good as Russell, nevertheless gives substance to a weak role. I thought Katina Paxinou, of "For Whom the Bell Tolls" fame, was excellent too and her scenes with Russell crackle with bitchiness that O'Neill probably didn't intend.

And the best news of all, this magnificent film is finally being released on DVD in December 2004. Never on VHS, laserdisc, or any form except, for God bless it, TCM, this film needs exposure to help its reputation as a great drama and a well-acted film that has been mistreated by the years.

I have seen this movie in bits and pieces over the years and therefore had seen the entire film before. But not all at once. Tonight I did. For those who know the original ancient Greek plays that this was taken from, it enhances the modernizing that Eugene O'Neill did with his treatise. It is, in and of itself, a brilliant literary work. This story, whether in the old Greek, or the 20th century version (the writing of it), is a daunting tale to tell for any actor. For my tastes, the women in this film were over the top. Fine actresses both, Katrina Paxinou as Christine the mother, and Rosalind Russell as Lavinia the daughter (or Electra), they perhaps could have used the help of a better director. The men were all fine. Though Raymond Massey's greatest contribution was his wonderful movie presence. But to watch Michael Redgrave's amazing performance was worth every other flaw. He took a part that was, indeed, full of words, and made them flow so naturally from his mouth, that I believed people DID speak that way. And with that wonderful naturalness, he achieved such depth of emotion! Love, anger, fear, hatred, and guilt to the point of paranoia and virtual insanity. I have seen other movies of his, and have always understood, simply enough, how his progeny became such fine actors. Sir Michael Redgrave was an actor that could bury himself in any part. But I saw this performance, just now, as if for the first time. So real, so believable, so brilliant.

It is difficult to understand why this film is SO rare and forgotten. I myself had to wait over 40 years to finally see it, when, one of our TV channels, realising what a rare and unusual film they had (!), screened it at 4:00 a.m. in the morning! Thank goodness for video!

It was such a commercial flop in Britain when first shown in 1947, that after a brief showcase screening in London, it sank without a trace and has remained a "lost" film ever since. Based on Eugene O'Neill's play, it is slightly flawed in places I must admit, but what is so staggeringly remarkable is that it ever got made in the first place!

Clocking in at almost three hours running time in the days when a 75 minute feature might induce ennui, and 95 minutes was a marathon, and so WORDY, and, in a climate just slowly emerging from WW2, so GLOOMY, one should not perhaps be surprised that it did flop commercially, but, seen now, one can realise just how very good it is. Perhaps RKO were motivated by, and mindful of the fact that O'Neill had then just recently been awarded the Nobel Prize for literature, but could they ever in their wildest dreams have imagined such a film would ever go into profit? Had they learned nothing from CITIZEN KANE five years earlier?

What was also remarkable however, considering when the film was made, was its frank and quite powerful depiction of the Oedipal/Electra complex. No doubt the American censors at the time felt they could be more than customarily lenient with a "classic" work, (as they indeed had been with GONE WITH THE WIND), and, no doubt, in 1947, Freud's teachings were still pretty much the esoteric, clinical knowledge of a small minority, so perhaps the censors of the day "read" these dark passions merely as melodrama, but the ensemble playing is so strong and competent that the film leaves you know doubt about just what forces are in play, even if most people at that time weren't perhaps universally aware of them.

Also, it so vividly confirms my long-held contention that any film is only ever as good as its script!!! What rare bliss it is nowadays to hear intelligent, thoughtful, meaningful dialogue! To witness characters riven by dark, deep passions of the heart and soul rather than by mere carnal lust Unfortunately, Rosalind Russell as Lavina wasn't too competent in the strong passion department, and regrettably was way out of her depth in her part, but Michael Redgrave (making his Hollywood debut) was a revelation, and his performance is one of the very best I have ever seen from him. But, in this particular work, all the acting parts are difficult, demanding swift changes of emotion, and the need to depict turbulent psychological undertows through body language. Vivien Leigh was probably the only screen actress from that era who could have done full justice to the role of Lavina.

Katina Paxinou undertakes her role as the unfaithful mother with flourish and conviction, and Raymond Massey as the father is, as always, reliable and sound, and even the incomparable Sarah Allgood makes an all too brief appearance. A very young Kirk Douglas acquits himself well, and although technically you can see the studio budget wasn't huge, the overall result is extremely satisfying, and illustrates well what a great debt the world owes to American playwrights of O'Neill's calibre, and too, to Hollywood for making them available to a world-wide audience.

It is a genuinely moving and powerful film, and it is a shame that it has become such a neglected and forgotten orphan. No doubt had it been made in France or Britain, it would now be hailed by movie snobs as a great Art Film, which it is, and just because it originated through the Hollywood studio system doesn't make it in the least bit less brilliant and dynamic. And whatever else, it is certainly one of the most LITERATE films ever made! Well worth searching for. Or, come to that, waiting 40 years for!