Péché mortel

Like many post-war films, "Leave Her to Heaven" is a study of a troubled individual. Very troubled. This film was a great setup for Gene Tierney to go on and play the manipulative, selfish Isabel in "The Razor's Edge." She looked like a goddess and projected a certain austerity, both of which made her good for this type of role.

Tierney plays an obsessively possessive woman who lets nothing and no one get in the way of the object of her affections. In this case, it's Cornel Wilde, whose appeal has always been lost on me. Her mother and adoptive sister (Jeanne Crain) suspect that Ellen has a few problems but sublimate their feelings until they can't even look at her anymore. Ellen is still mourning the death of her father and apparently so dominated his attention that it destroyed his relationship with his wife. "Ellen loved him too much," her mother says. And how much did daddy love her, one wonders, thinking with a modern sensibility. And how exactly did he die? After captivating Wilde, Tierney sets to work making sure he never has a minute with anyone else...in any way necessary! The scene in the lake with her crippled brother-in-law is truly frightening.

Though Tierney, in my opinion, was one of the most beautiful women in films, she was never, ever more glorious looking than in this vibrantly photographed production. The most thrilling scene for me is when she scatters her father's ashes - though some may find the music a little strong, I thought it very powerful and atmospheric, particularly in that scene.

Believe it or not, "Leave Her to Heaven" was remade as a TV movie with Loni Anderson, which always prompts a friend of mine to say, when a film is mentioned, "Are you talking about the original or the Loni Anderson version?" There's only one version worth talking about, and it's this one.

This is one of my favorite movies! The mystery was the lead character, Ellen; the cool, lovely and smoldering and so much more. Ellen Berent Hartman is the adult version of Rhoda Penmark in The Bad Seed (1956). Totally ruthless, unfeeling and riveting. Gene Tierney (Ellen) gave the performance of her career! Cornel Wilde was a good foil for her as her unsuspecting husband, Richard Hartman. This movie is about the rare breed of human who has feelings for no one, consumed by their own selfish desires. The costars almost faded in the background at times in comparison to Tierney's performance. Yet, every character had their moment to shine. Vincent Price does a great job portraying the jilted fiancé whose fierce determination to see justice done is just an expression of loss and unrequited love. Jean Crain was appropriately forlorn and Chil Wills' expression of horrid realization was chilling (no pun intended). With all of the cards seemingly laid on the table for the audience, there is still room for suspense. If you like a suspenseful drama, don't miss this movie. I watch it every chance I get.

Can a film noir be effective in glorious colour or is that a contradiction in terms? Anyway I found this lesser-known thriller to be as exciting and involving as any other black-and-white-mean-streets scenario that the 40's threw up. Tightly plotted, well acted and above all, beautifully photographed, I was gripped from first to last. My only caveats might have been the "framing" device of Cornel Wilde's lawyer's top-and-tail introduction and epilogue, which just takes away a little of the dramatic tension, an over-intrusive musical score, particularly at Wilde and Tierney's first "strangers on a train" meeting and also the fact that more wasn't made of the conclusion of the otherwise tautly drawn crucial trial scene. The acting is top-rate, with no discernible weak links. Wilde, as the duped author, shows hidden depths to his handsome exterior, Crain, in a sub De-Havilland part modulates her performance winningly as her character's importance to the plot develops and Vincent Price is absolutely excellent as Tierney's abandoned fiancé, a lawyer on the make who convincingly destroys Wilde and Crain in his vengeful piece-de-resistance as the prosecuting counsel. What a shame he was later reduced to his stereotype cackling mad-man persona of seemingly dozens of horror films. He's a revelation here, almost stealing the movie in said trial scene where he's made to recite long pieces of staccato dialogue which he delivers pitch-perfect. Gene Tierney, of course, is enthralling in the pivotal role of the possessed / possessive Ellen, who uses her obvious beauty and sophistication to ensnare Wilde, before taking off into psychopath territory, which sees her effectively kill Wilde's disabled but adored younger brother and devise an almost perfect beyond-the-grave trap for Wilde and Crain to fall into. Great as all these pluses are, I keep coming back to the cinematography which captures like no other film I've ever seen tones of radiant beauty in almost every shot, both interior and exterior. In fact all I can say to finish is that I could find very little to fault this glorious but unheralded example of the golden age of Hollywood.

No one can watch this without remembering Gene Tierney's searing blue eyes, Jeanne Crain's face of innocence, or Cornel Wilde (lightyears from The Naked Prey) here looking like a photo of Pierre & Gilles come to life. It's 110 minutes of color-time-travel basking in the surreally saturated Technicolor palette of the mid 40's.

For those who have been denied the experience of watching the recently restored version with a rapt audience on a big screen as happened April 26, 2008 at San Francisco's Castro Theatre, I can only hope you'll contact a film preservation-minded theater in your area.

Though I've watched this film on DVD, nothing prepared me for the impact of the big screen. The closeups alone will take your breath away.

Is it melodrama or is it noir?--leave that to Heaven!

I don't think I agree with those who have designated 'Leave Her to Heaven (1945)' a film noir. This Technicolor picture – and it's surprising how much the presence of colour can distort the tone of a film – feels much closer to the claustrophobic domestic melodramas of the same period, such as Hitchcock's 'Rebecca (1940)' and 'Suspicion (1941),' and Cukor's 'Gaslight (1944).' But there's one important difference. By reversing the gender roles, and placing the power in the hands of the wife, director John M. Stahl here creates a formidable femme fatale, personified by the lovely and luminous Gene Tierney. The vibrant Technicolor photography is certainly pleasing to the eye, and the saturated colours add a perhaps-unintended touch of the surreal, but the dazzling colour palette distracts from and obstructs the film's darker themes. As much as I wouldn't like to deprive myself of Tierney's sparkling green eyes, I think that, in terms of atmosphere, 'Leave Her to Heaven' would have worked better in black-and-white.

The film starts off in the classic noir style: told in flashback, the story opens with popular author Richard Harland (Cornel Wilde), who meets an alluring woman, Ellen Berent (Tierney), on a train. Ellen quickly charms Richard with her dazzling looks and strong personality; soon, despite her own engagement to a prominent lawyer (Vincent Price), she has proposed their marriage, an offer he finds impossible to refuse. Here, 'Leave Her to Heaven' takes a distinct turn in storytelling approach, abruptly shifting its attention to Ellen's perspective, at which point we begin to recognise that perhaps she isn't as lovely as her new husband has been led to believe. The new couple move to Richard's secluded lakeside lodge, where they must also care for his crippled younger brother, Danny (Darryl Hickman, giving one of those "excited boy scout" child performances that were popular in the 1940s). As the weeks go by, Ellen's near-obsessive love for Richard begins to brood anger, hatred and jealousy, culminating in the cruelest of acts.

Tierney's character initially elicits an amount of sympathy, especially given Richard's apparent inability to recognise his wife's desperate need for privacy and intimacy in their relationship. However, it doesn't take long before her behaviour, fuelled by suspicion and paranoia, becomes entirely contemptible, and there's no longer any trace of the charming enchantress we saw in 'Laura (1944).' Ellen's psychosis is an intriguing one: she was obviously obsessed with love for her own father – what Freud called "feminine Oedipus attitude," or Electra complex – and, following his death, subsequently fell in love with Richard, who bears a remarkable resemblance to him. Such is her passion for her father, through Richard, that she cannot bear to share him with anybody; thus, her mania stems from the simple notion that "she loves too much." Ellen's murders are shocking in their own low-key simplicity, and Tierney, who received her only Oscar nomination for the role, carries out her evils with an icily-impassive face. But, geez, even this chilling portrayal can't make me stop loving her.