Chamas Que Não se Apagam

I can not stand Vinny's character. He is so "full of himself." The youngest daughter Frankie drove me crazy with her whining!

Excellent performances by Stanwyck, MacMurray, and Bennett. This is one of the last movies Stanwyck and MacMurray made together, she was as beautiful in this movie as in any of her 1940's movies. She's timeless and such a wonderful actress. For those of you who really like Fred, and want a real treat... Check out the movies "Miracle of the Bells," and "Suddenly it's Spring!" Fred Mac Murray and Barbara Stanwyck were such underrated actors/actresses of their time. Joan Bennett plays her part so well you understand why the household is the way it is. Great love story, if you can get through the kids!

Yet another impressive Douglas Sirk melodrama centring on the contemporary American family and in this particular film the American husband / father figure. Most of the Sirk movies I've seen seem to put women at the heart of the action but here the emotional crisis is thrust upon Fred MacMurray's toy salesman, a conventional, dutiful husband and father to his three growing children, one boy on the verge of adulthood, one daughter in her late teen, mildly rebellious years and another somewhat childish younger teenager. His wife, played by Joan Bennett, seems preoccupied with the needs and wants of these rather selfish children to the point where she seems ignorant of the effect the cumulative family disinterest is having on his emotional needs.

Just as he's feeling especially insignificant along comes old flame Barbara Stanwyck in her third fine film with MacMurray to fan the sparks of his mid-life crisis into a full-blown blazing passion, to the extent where he has a secret if accidental weekend away with her and quickly comes to contemplate leaving his family for a life of excitement with her. Which way will he turn and what part will his two mortified older children, who in typical Sirkian grand coincidental fashion, learn of his plans, play in his final decision?

Once again, Sirk brings family members to a crisis-point and even if the resolution this time takes a conventional course, still there's real drama in these excellently crafted and written scenes of anything but cosy domesticity. Cynics may make sneering remarks about all this amounting to shallow soap operatics but I think they would be wrong. Post-War Western and especially American society was evolving even against the "I Like Ike" background of greater personal wealth and the growth in consumerism but just under the surface it wasn't all sweetness and light and Sirk was one director who caught that change in attitudes in his mid-50's work.

Once again MacMurray surprised me with the depth and roundedness of his performance as a middle-aged man cornered by society's expectations of him while Stanwyck in one of her last major roles before she, like MacMurray a bit later, turned to TV, is as good as she usually is as the unwitting Eve in Fred's supposed Garden of Eden. Her character of a flamboyant, self-confident, but importantly unmarried career-woman is equally worthy of deeper investigation as MacMurray's worm-turning Mr Suburbia.

Lesser known than other Sirk dramas of the decade it's as good as any of them in my opinion and well worth watching.

Pasadena toy manufacturer Fred MacMurray (as Clifford "Cliff" Groves) is wealthy and successful, but feels neglected by his busy family. His children are preoccupied with their own lives and loving wife Joan Bennett (as Marion) always finds herself committed to something other than time with Mr. MacMurray. He feels ignored, unappreciated and lonely. Enter former employee Barbara Stanwyck (as Norma Miller-Vale). Formerly plain, but now an attractive dress designer, Ms. Stanwyck arrives in Los Angeles on business. She's clearly interested in rekindling something with MacMurray...

The best part here is that "There's Always Tomorrow" has director Douglas Sirk working in the 1950s, with his best photographer Russell Metty. This means artful shadows, stairways, windows and reflections. Such visuals, especially as they complement the story, are great. There is even a scene with Stanwyck's face shedding tears that are actually reflected raindrops; a technique said to have originated with "In Cold Blood" (1967). Quite possibly, this was done even earlier...

The cast is strangely unimpassioned. MacMurray and Stanwyck lack the level of spark they conveyed in previous collaborations. Perhaps this is the point. MacMurray has become like the toy robot he created. He's "Rex" the walkie-talkie mechanical man. Stanwyck appears to be hesitating an attempted seduction. While not the protagonist, she becomes the most interesting character. Completely and most maddeningly in the dark, Ms. Bennett acts robotically unaware of the threat to her supposedly perfect family life. Shaking things up is suspicious and literate son William Reynolds (as Vinnie).

******* There's Always Tomorrow (1/20/56) Douglas Sirk ~ Fred MacMurray, Barbara Stanwyck, Joan Bennett, William Reynolds

Fred MacMurray, Barbara Stanwyck, and Joan Bennett star in "There's Always Tomorrow," directed by Douglas Sirk and featuring William Reynolds, Gigi Perreau, Judy Nugent, and Pat Crowley as the young people.

MacMurray is a successful toy developer, Clifford Groves, married to Marion (Bennett), and they have three children (Reynolds, Perreau, and Nugent). Marion is preoccupied with the kids and the household, while MacMurray is longing for some alone time with her and to do something different - take a weekend off, go to the theater -- but something always happens that prevents it.

When Marion can't make a theater performance because of their daughter's dance recital, Cliff stays home alone. A woman who once worked for him, Norma Vale (Stanwyck) comes over to say hello. She's now a successful dress designer in from New York. He takes her to the theater instead, and then she asks to see his office.

When a planned weekend in the desert with Marion doesn't work out because one of the girls breaks her ankle, Marion insists that Clifford go without her and relax. There, he runs into Norma again. Unfortunately, his son (Reynolds) shows up and thinks Cliff and Norma are involved. He and his friends leave without making their presence known to his dad. Without realizing what's happening, Cliff is falling for Norma; and he doesn't know that she's always been in love with him.

This is a midlife crisis, '50s style, with the underpinning of the grass is always greener. That wasn't the original intention, of course - the original intention of the film is that Norma is lonely and would give up her wonderful career to have a family like Marion and Cliff have. People still feel this way, but today, it's more because of the road not taken, not so much because of dissatisfaction. Nothing's perfect, as the film shows us. Cliff sees Norma's freedom, the attention she pays him, her interest in his work. He feels in fourth place behind the kids to Marion. He's sick of being like the robot that is his latest toy. You wind him up, he works, he comes home, he has dinner, he goes to bed. With Norma he sees an opportunity for something different. Youth. To be put first. Endless possibility.

What a lovely movie, and I thought I was sitting down to some second feature. Instead, it has Sirk's magic touch and his sly criticism of the picture-perfect '50s American life. Frankly, I could have slapped the kids and Marion for not seeing what's in front of their faces, but to be fair, kids are self-involved, and Marion is completely committed to doing what she thinks is important for Cliff and their family.

Wonderful acting, with MacMurray as the frustrated Everyman, Bennett as an attractive, disciplined woman, and Stanwyck has someone who has earned wisdom the hard way, through hard work and disappointment.

Highly recommended.

Douglas Sirk is renowned for injecting his subversive criticism of American society of the fifties in his glossy and glamorous melodramas. What made this palatable to the public, who flocked in droves, was the fact that the families involved were showbiz families ("Imitation of Life"), filthy rich oil magnates ("Written in the Wind") or highly idealized to the point of caricature ("All that Heaven Allows", "Magnificent Obsession"), far from the average movie goers own social milieu. And of course up there on the screen were the glamorous stars, Rock Hudson, Lana Turner, Lauren Bacall, Dorothy Malone, etc. Movie fans will recall the aforementioned movies when the topic of Sirk's movies arises. It is highly unlikely that "There's Always Tomorrow" will get a mention. "There's Always Tomorrow" has barely any gloss or glamour. The social criticism is completely without disguise. The family in question is one that the vast majority of movie goers could very easily identify with. Its stars (Fred MacMurray and a not so young Barbara Stanwyk) are not glamorous. While audiences left the cinema entranced by the glorious melodrama of "Imitation of Life" and "Written on the Wind", they would have left "There's Always Tomorrow" feeling a lot less secure about their own lives, since it's a film that touches on a fair amount of "dangerous" territory, calling into question the very foundations of the American family. Douglas Sirk's sense of irony has never been sharper. The title brims with optimism and the film opens with the script, "Once Upon a Time in Sunny California". But what unfolds is a bleak, pessimistic depiction of middle class family life.

While Sirk's films have often been branded "woman's pictures", "There's Always Tomorrow" is indeed very much a man's picture. It takes a hard and deep look at the role of the male breadwinner and the picture it comes up with is not a pretty one. What we are shown is a man who when young, courted the prettiest girl, married, had children and worked hard to build up a successful business. He is now middle aged and having achieved it all, begins to feel himself taken for granted by his wife and children. His needs are completely neglected. His wife has little interest in him sexually being totally wrapped up in fulfilling the unending needs of their self centered ungrateful children. It's a scenario all too familiar to millions of men. Fred MacMurrays's Clifford Groves has become a robot similar to the one his successful toy manufacturer has created. No wonder that Norma Vale's (Stanwyk) reappearance in his life presents an opportunity to regain his lost dreams. She's an independent career woman, who sees his situation as somewhat idyllic from the outside. But with the usual intelligence of a Stanwyk character, she has no illusions as to a possible future with him. Despite the brief and obligatory conciliatory ending, Clifford Groves' future does not bode well. It should come as no surprise that the film was not well received at the box office.

"There's Always Tomorrow" has many of the hallmarks of Sirk's craftsmanship. The studio refused to grant him his request for the film to be shot in color, despite having provided Universal with some of its highest grossing pictures of the decade. At least his demand for his favorite cameraman Russell Metty was granted. Metty as always, was the perfect partner in realising Sirk's vision. His interior filming in particular is a lesson in cinematography. He had a penchant for shooting characters behind banisters, framed in mirrors and caged behind fences to enhance the sense of their being trapped. MacMurray and Stanwyk are constantly gliding through dark shadow and bright light reflecting the inherent brightness and darkness in their lives.

At this point of writing "There's Always Tomorrow" has not been released in any format and rarely gets a showing on television. It's a gross injustice to an extremely important director and a wonderfully made, moving piece of cinema.