Her Sister's Secret

I just finished watching the film (thanx, DVR) and, unlike one earlier reviewer, I don't recall Robert Osborne saying it was a great film. Tho he did praise Ulmer in general. But I readily admit my memory of the introduction might not be perfect; I just don't remember him calling it a great film.

It's not a great film. But it is a good one. Despite what yet another reviewer said about the budget, it's definitely a B-movie, probably shot very quickly -- just probably with a bigger budget than some B's, and definitely well-crafted enough to look terrific. Stylishly shot for the most part, the best-looking part is, of course, that marvelously fluid Mardi Gras first act. I was really impressed by how expansive and lively Ulmer, Planck and company could make their inexpensive, studio-bound Mardi Gras.

Still, yes, this is a B, and there are some rough edges. A few blown edits does not a bad film make. Almost all of Ulmer's films, almost all B-movies, have flaws. Often, definitely often in Ulmer's case, they don't negate the strengths of the films -- in this case, smooth, confident direction and cinematography and, for 1946 at least, a *relatively* sensitive and intelligent approach to the subject matter -- more on that later. (It would probably take longer to recite a list of Detour's flaws than to watch the film -- and none of them matter in the slightest; Detour is a great film.)

And the major performance were all quite good, altho I will say that Stephenson took top honors -- something not surprising from the great character actor.

It's funny, reading the negative comments about Winston Severn as young Billy, because enjoying his adorable moppetedness in the film really got me thinking about child actors. Some are remarkable (Ann Carter in Curse of the Cat People, Anna Torrent in Spirit of the Beehive, Nicholas Gledhill in Careful, He Might Hear You, to name just three), but, to a certain extent, at least, extremely young actors, like Severn in this picture, are sorta bad-performance-proof.

He played a three-year-old. He acted like a three-year-old. No, the "performance" wasn't smooth or "professional", but it was utterly real and engaging. No, it's true, he didn't always seem to know what he was doing -- just like many three-year-olds don't always look like they know what they're doing in real life. Would a better-trained (likely, older) kid who hit marks precisely and enunciated every line smoothly have necessarily been better for the film? I don't think so. Severn's utter kid-ness made Billy a hugely sympathetic character. I thought he was a striking plus for the film.

The plot and script bow to filmmaking formulae of the times, and some of the character motivations and the plot developments that come out of them strain to work, but Ulmer and his talented actors handle them pretty well. For me, the hardest part of the film to live with was the very end -- with people other than poor Reid's character apparently getting to decide that he will never be allowed to know he even has a son! Holy keee-rap, that's cruel. But not unexpected from films of the time. As was pointed out, there are even better films of the era that dealt with similar themes (giving up one's child -- sometimes illegitimate,sometimes from a dead or supposed-dead spouse), and they, too, often featured parents and/or children who were conscioulsy denied by others the truth of their relations to each other. It sticks in my craw with those films, too.

Matthew

In his TCM intro, Robert Osborne correctly draws attention to this film's focus on a child born out of wedlock as its subject area. One wonders to what extent Ulmer, already comfortable at and most likely the "ace" at PRC, was intrigued by the challenge of flying under the radar of the still-in-force Code. The opening section is purposefully, almost archly, romantic; one has no idea of the situation to come, and it is only alluded to throughout the first half of the film. The title itself veils the true emotional core, the unwed mother's conflict, which reveals itself gradually as the film unfolds. It's well into its second half before her emotional plight becomes fully apparent. Guided by Ulmer, the film veers from high romance to the borders of Ed Wood Land – not quite as far afield as Glen or Glenda, but it does have something of the flavor of the "public education" films that were four-walled from the 30's onwards.

This may not be Ulmer's best film – I would place The Black Cat, Detour, Ruthless, and to a lesser extent Carnegie Hall in that category. But his skill and talent as a director are evident throughout. The film is fluid with camera moves, never extraneous to its content. Especially in the second half, certain lighting-dictated moods are often quite striking, and the physical motions of the performers occasionally demonstrate the rhythmic pacing that Ulmer's late wife Shirley and daughter Ariane have cited as one of the hallmarks of his direction. As in Ruthless, it is classical style applied to dark content. The result is a tone as fevered as any to be found in Ulmer's work.

The child actor does fine. His actions and reactions work to support the purpose of, and at times enhance, every scene. To criticize the performance of a child so young (three years old), as is done by another reviewer, is ludicrous.

I found this a very touching film, perhaps because I too spent leave in New Orleans during Mardi Gras. However, in my case my loneliness was not assuaged by a tryst with a lovely young woman who gave me access to all the best New Orleans had to offer during wartime. In keeping with conventions of the day the woman is punished for her sin when, not having heard from her lover who has returned to duty, she gives up her baby to her married sister. Although somewhat dated & melodramatic the film works on many levels. I particularly liked the evocation of the New Orleans social scene during Mardi Gras, something I missed when I was there.

I really enjoyed playing the part of Billy Gordon in this film. Although I was less than 4 years old, I have vivid memories of the entire process of making this film. The studio lights in those days were very bright & hot, causing the ladies' makeup to run after a short time. The big camera used for close-ups looked like a giant eye which made me quite nervous. I didn't like the tractor being used to move the props around...A tractor belonged outside in my opinion...My 3 year old little mind thought of it like a mechanical Tyrannosaurus Rex with big hind wheels and small front wheels...Quite a scary dinosaur! I remember that the entire cast & crew were so kind to me on & off the screen. My Dad, Mom, brothers & sisters were very encouraging & worked hard to tutor me...Lots of rehearsals were done at home, so that there would be no mistakes on the set. There are relatives and friends who are interested in purchasing this movie...Do you know if it is available on DVD?

It is nothing if not puzzling, that despite all the attention Mr. Ulmer's other work receives, "Her Sister's Secret," remains consigned to some no man's land--ignored, ignored, ignored...

Very bewildering indeed, since, Mr. Ulmer is clearly working above his usual constraints, as is evidenced by the fact that it doesn't look like a PRC film at all! By some feat or other, a bit more coin was dropped here and it shows.

Working this time without his usual collaborators, (or should we say culprits?) producer Leon Fromkess and art director Paul Palmentola) Ulmer achieves something completely unlike the pulp antics of "Monsoon" or "Delinguent Daughters,"--a posh women's picture in the Douglas Sirk mode--all velvet and satin and ball masques.

Indeed, the film looks for all the world like one of Ross Hunter's early black and white dramas for Universal--(before he ascended into Eastmancolor heaven)-such are the film's physical and aural accoutrements, (among the latter note the use of a celestial choir in the fadeout just as in 1959's "Imitation of Life").

To avoid "spoilers" suffice it to say that the story hinges on a well born young miss who finds herself in trouble after an indiscretion with a furloughed soldier during Mardi Gras. Though Miss Coleman's character mentions her extreme "shame," the picture avoids the moral implications of her dilemma in favor of the unavoidable emotional attachment she feels toward her child.

To the picture's credit it strongly emphasizes the permanent natural and ethical link that maternity imposes, (this would be an excellent film for pro-abortionists to see.)

That the principal players are Phillip Reed, soulfully beautiful Nancy Coleman, and tres chic Margaret Lindsay assures the audience of three very good looking leads. In addition it offers veteran player Henry Stephenson a good part preparatory to his trek to Albion in order to film David Lean's "Oliver Twist," (didn't Ulmer rub shoulders with interesting people?)

Though bereft of Eugene Shufftan's fabled expertise on this project, Mr. Ulmer was lucky to secure the services of Franz Planer, a superb cinematographer in his own right, who manages deftly smooth boom maneuvers amidst the moody settings (the work of art director Edward Jewell). This is most evident in the film's superb opening, in which Mr. Planer rides his camera through the flying confetti and contorted, gyrating and swaying movement of the masqued revelries of the Mardi Gras, (this film anticipates, on a smaller scale, the carnival sequence in "Saraband for Dead Lovers").

The settings include the terraced New Orleans restaurant where the film opens, Mr. Stephenson's private library, an Arizona Sanitorium, Central Park and Miss Lindsay's swank Manhatten duplex apartment, which seems to take some of its stylistic cues from Premingers "Laura," (all white on white satin with the requisite terrace.)

And being a women's picture a nod must go to "Donn" who provided the Misses Coleman and Lindsay with a mouth watering wardrobe, which serves as a reminder at what a dear sartorial cost the cultural meltdown of recent decades has wrought--one won't find on screen elegance like this today. Why the milliner alone must have made a killing on this picture! And take a gander at that satin lined split sleeve number Miss Lindsay wears in her final scene.

All told, this is a smoothly turned and consistently interesting treatment of a perennial problem--and deserves a far higher place on the list of Mr. Ulmer's credentials than "Jive Junction".