The story OF HUMAN BONDAGE has become like A STAR IS BORN, that is, being filmed many times with different effects on the audience and box office. Studios loved to put actors into roles that are ‘star making,’ hoping the magic will occur again. Such would be the case with Paul Henreid and Eleanor Parker in the Edmund Goulding version of the Somerset Maugham story. Directors, particularly in theater, believe that some roles are “bulletproof.” Actors simply have to make their entrance, say their lines and not hit the furniture and all will be good. This is not the case here.
Edmund Goulding tested Eleanor Parker twice for the role of Mildred in the picture and was convinced she could handle it. Parker was known for ‘sweet roles’. The studio wanted to launch another star the same way this 1934 version did for Bette Davis. However, watching the picture one wonders what Goulding saw in Parker and how much pressure he felt from the studio to cast her. She doesn’t get much help from her on screen partner,Paul Henreid, who does his level best with wordy dialogue and an over the top limp. Parker gets saddled with a Ingrid Bergman look, complete with exaggerated eyebrows. One of the few times that Hollywood overdid trying to make someone look dowdy or trashy.
The story of one sided passion by a medical student who has a limp is a story we know. It was previously made in 1934 with Bette Davis, teaming up with Leslie Howard and again in 1964 with Kim Novak and Laurence Harvey. Bondage takes on a different meaning in today’s world; however, power, control, jealousy, self-abasement—these are characteristics of the love that Maugham identifies as bondage. The kind of love based on these qualities produces pain, shrinking of one’s heart, a lack of freedom and happiness. The love becomes a curse for one, while the other is content to sit. This desire to have fun and to simply dance is difficult for Paul Henreid’s Phillip Carey, so Mildred flirts with close friend Harry Griffiths, played by Patric Knowles.
These bits of dialogue, looks, and hand holding in secret give Parker some of her best moments of the picture as she plays off of Griffiths very well and Goulding photographs them in closeup effectively. Where the character of Mildred loses her effectiveness is when Parker begins yelling and other histrionics. The result is for my ears what came to sound later like a ‘Eliza Doolittle’ accent in all its cliche beauty, much the same as the dreaded ‘Lucky Charms’ Irish accent.
Eleanor Parker apparently worked hard on the accent, learning from English actress Doris Lloyd, who had a small role as a land lady in the picture. Lloyd had a huge career in film and other work, so she did the thing that most good actors do: support your fellow actors by helping them. An accent, in this case. Interesting to note that Lloyd was born in Liverpool and the accent that Parker gives is pretty much cockney minus the rhythm and the little rhymes. It is said that Parker learned the accent so well the English in the cast thought she was one of them. I find that optimistic, designed to give her confidence and good press.
Paul Henreid has his accent explained as having an Austrian mother. He does his best with wordy dialogue, especially in the beginning of the picture with Alexis Smith (Norah Nesbitt) in her too brief screen time.
Henreid matches the wardrobe he is given, that is, a stiff performance that is almost mechanical in body language, except for his face. It light ups when he is happy and he purses his eyebrows when not. Where you really see it is in the scenes between Carey and Athelny (Edmund Gwenn).
Athelny is everything that Carey is not: happy, has a loving family and a marriageable daughter Sally (Janis Page) that he fondly reminds everyone. The two meet in a hospital and strike up a friendship in a delightfully light fast moment which changes the tone of the picture. The mood drops when Mildred enters the film, if intentional, it is quite effective. One can really seen the chops of the acting between Edmund Gwenn and Eleanor Parker.
Gwenn is fluid in his movement, speech and mannerisms with the words just flowing musically from his mouth even in the tense moments. Gwenn does a wonderful drop in volume when in a tender moment between father and his daughter Sally, who finally tells him that she is in love with Carey. Gwenn simply asks her in the most sincere three words in the film,’Tell your Father,” which comforts her. The slightly tipsy Harry Griffiths’ (Patric Knowles) moment is on the rooming house stairs when he looks Carey in the eye and tells him that he will not do anything to hurt him and Mildred. He, of course, doesn’t follow through, as Mildred wants a bit of fun.
Writer Catherine Turney, who gave us the wordy screenplay, is said to have been a champion for larger women’s roles in pictures. She did previous work for Barbara Stanwyck, Anne Sheridan, Ida Lupino, Bette Davis and others. She also did uncredited writing work on MILDRED PIERCE (1946), that was nominated for an Academy Award. Parker’s first entrance as the Tea Room waitress and all her moments like that seem filled with gyrations, and the voice of an actor trying too hard. Parker has a final scene edited out of the picture as it was deemed too bleak for audiences at the time.
OF HUMAN BONDAGE (1946) suffers from poor casting and sluggish direction of actors in spite of the production values of sets and camera work. This version of the story is not shown much as apparently the film was completed in 1944 and shelved for two years as the result of a disastrous opening. With the exception of the supporting people like Edmund Gwenn, Janis Page and the always wonderful Una O Conner (Check the brilliant, subtle look out she gives Mildred when giving her a package) the picture is still worth a look to see actors trying hard to work without much support.
Interesting! I still have to watch this one! Love the Bette one.
Hard one to find. TCM had poor print on a while back. Thanks for the kind words.
Terry