Ma vie à moi

Kansas girl makes a splash in New York City as a print model, but her love affair with a married man may ruin her. From the era where independent career girls were only ambitious until a man entered the picture, this "woman's movie" is naïve and rather unconvincing, though it is seldom soft; the knowing dialogue has a sharp, bitter edge, and the performances are solid, making it a cut above the usual soap opera. Isobel Lennart's screenplay is dotted with cutting little truths--too many, perhaps; often, the greedy masochism is underlined with a moral conscience (and tinkling piano keys) which turns the whole thing into a heavy-breathing melodrama for sufferers on the high road. Lana Turner does a lot of striding up and down, and she seems too seasoned to be a novice in the film's opening scenes, but her desperate gaiety is touching. Ray Milland does his usual colorless nice-guy turn, but Ann Dvorak is startling playing an over-the-hill model and Margaret Phillips (as Milland's wife--an invalid who beams with sanity and understanding like a saint) is excellent in the film's big scene, where the two women meet. Not an important picture, nor a provocative one, but a star-vehicle that does manage to touch upon some resonant truths about women, their careers, and their fragile hearts. **1/2 from ****

Lana Turner heads an excellent cast in "A Life of Her Own," a 1950 film directed by George Cukor. Its other stars are Ray Milland, Louis Calhern, Margaret Phillips, Barry Sullivan, Tom Ewell, Ann Dvorak, and Jean Hagen.

Both the beginning of the film and the end are the best parts; the in between is incredibly slow. Turner plays a young woman from Kansas who comes to New York to break into the modeling business. She meets what could be her future if she's not careful: a washed up, alcoholic, desperate has-been, beautifully portrayed by Ann Dvorak. No need to tell you what happens there - you've seen it a million times.

As her career progresses, Turner meets a married millionaire, Steve, played by Ray Milland. She knows he's married and it starts off platonically enough. But, as we learn what seems like hours later, he's a lot more than married.

This is a great cast, right down to the smaller roles, which includes Phyllis Kirk, one of my favorites, and Hermes Pan, who so often worked with Fred Astaire on choreography.

Turner is excellent and has some fine dramatic scenes; Milland is handsome and sympathetic as her boyfriend. Margaret Phillips, as his wife, does a marvelous job, and Tom Ewell is a joy. Actually, everyone is very good.

Alas, there's not much of a script here and you know what's going to happen along the way. The very end shows Cukor's directing mastery. Given what he had to work with by way of a script, it's a very well done movie. I shudder to think what it would have been like in someone else's hands.

Lana Turner fresh off a two year "break" in film-making, returns to the screen with MGM and George Cukor. Her time off (due to suspension from refusing MGM's crappy scripts) resulted in a marriage to multi-millionaire Bob Topping and the resulting (and slightly double-chinned) effects of partying and drinking champagne for the duration.

She's supposed to be a "fresh-faced" model from a small town who makes it big in NYC. It's quite a stretch at her age (30)since the role belongs to a MUCH younger actress, but she IS Lana Turner and still beautiful. But don't expect an explosion of Cukor's magic combined with Lana's beauty; it's not happening.

This movie is watchable if you love Lana or Cukor, but the real draw in this film is Ann Dvorak. She plays a washed-up, alcoholic and depressed super-model who mentors Lana briefly upon her arrival in the Big Apple and she steals EVERY scene she's in. The first 20 minutes of this film are the best and belong to Ann Dvorak all the way.

Ray Milland is sleepwalking, boring and unbelievable as the married man smitten with Lana. Not to mention that someone who looks like Lana would hardly be attracted to him! But his wheelchair-bound, suffering and loving wife is played beautifully, deeply and touchingly by Margaret Phillips in one of her only 3 film roles. She is so good that she actually inspires Lana to "act" in the scene they share (gasp!). Barry Sullivan can always be relied upon to play the creepy guy and Lana gets off some good n' nasty verbal shots at him.

There's definitely some glamour moments, but they are far too rare. As George Cukor had noted during filming, costumer Helen Rose was "bereft of talent" and Lana wears some of the geekiest looking and unflattering outfits. But every now and then a mink coat, the right angle and lighting and some stylish camera work highlight the magic of director Cukor and star Turner. But poor Sidney Guilaroff must have been on valium; watching the tight curls on the the side of Lana's head multiply, shrink or stare at you like a group of peonies is part of the show.

The original ending was met so badly at pre-release screenings that a new ending was filmed later on command of the studio. Could it really have been worse than the one released?!?!!

Lana Turner plays a woman who leaves her small town to go to New York to get into the modeling business.

It's a magazine-fiction type of story that is given some depth, intelligence, and color by George Cukor's direction.

Cukor does all sorts of nice things with the milieu, the supporting cast, the situations, and the performances of the leads, perhaps to obscure the fact that this isn't a very compelling story.

Predictably, Lana's character gets involved with a married man (Ray Milland). Her lover's long- suffering wife (Margaret Phillips) is bedridden. The man cares about his wife, but also about his girlfriend. He nearly goes off the deep end worrying about it all.

Ann Dvorak in a supporting role as an aging, bitter model steals the show, more or less, though a little of her (and her role) goes a long way. We also get to see Barry Sullivan, Tom Ewell, Jean Hagen, Betsy Blair, Richard Hart, Louis Calhern, and many others. The supporting cast is really great.

By the way, Ray Milland was a replacement for Wendell Corey, who reportedly was fired after making a snide remark when Lana was late to the set (for an apparently legitimate reason having to do with her wardrobe). Supposedly, Corey told Turner that Barbara Stanwyck (with whom he had recently starred) never kept a cast and crew waiting. Since there were rumors Lana had had an affair with Stanwyck's husband, Robert Taylor, the crack seemed especially pointed. At any rate, Lana refused to work with him after that.

A Life Of Her Own was one of two pictures produced by MGM's influential Voldemar Vetluguin, a former editor of Redbook magazine. The other was East Side, West Side (1949).

By the time Lana Turner and Ray Milland were paired in this romantic drama, they both seemed to have the "mark" of their respective studios written over them.

Turner's was MGM, and indeed this film was made at that studio. Milland's was Paramount, and he seemed a "guest visitor" to the Metro ambiance.

While both actors were certainly equally successful in their respective careers, their casting did seem a bit strange to me. I kept thinking, what's Paramount doing at MGM?

Not that Milland offered anything but his usual solid work; he just seemed a bit unusual in the total scheme of things. However, being the solid pro he was, he carried off his "slumming millionaire" role with aplomb; likewise Turner gave her part her all.

The script was fair, and Director George Cukor made the most of what he had to work with. In the end an interesting "hybrid," adequately carried off by two thespian entities of varying affiliations.