Revisiting Love Story (1970)

My recent experience has been that mentioning Love Story will generally 1) bring on sneers or giggles, or 2) prompt almost an involuntary uttering of the famous tagline "love means never having to say you're sorry." So with the film a fuzzy memory at best (I only saw it once decades ago as a teenager having been too young to see it on initial release), I decided to attend the 50th-anniversary screening thanks to TCM & Fathom Events. And the film was, and wasn't, as I remembered it, inspiring me to share here my spoiler-filled reasons why the film, while not a great one, isn't the schlocky, saccharine mess that its current reputation may have you believe.

As a brief refresher...the runaway 1970 hit was made from an Erich Segal screenplay that he subsequently turned into a novel to capitalize on the movie's popularity. For the film, the two New England college-student lovers from radically different economic backgrounds are portrayed by Hollywood up-and-coming actors Ali MacGraw (Jenny Cavilleri) and Ryan O'Neal (Oliver Barrett, IV). A small but critical supporting role of Oliver's father is played expertly by classic Hollywood suave leading man Ray Milland. Arthur Hiller directed for Paramount Pictures.

Ryan O'Neal and Ray Milland at the end of Love Story

It's not a bad movie--really!  Despite some script weaknesses, the film is cleverly crafted on several fronts. First, it's a study in storytelling economy with a running time just over 90 minutes: after a brief voiceover intro scene leading into the extended flashback, we are instantly at the lovers' first meeting. From there, months and years pass in leaps and bounds, with milestones in the lives of the characters being the only guide to time--meeting, finishing school, marriage, jobs, moving to a new city, etc. About two-thirds in, the critical, sad news about Jenny's terminal illness is revealed. The pace is quick but consistent and never rushed. Yet there is no unnecessary lingering for emotional effect.

Second, the visual symbolism is striking at times. I don't know the reason for nearly all the scenes being filmed in winter, but the abundant snow that required our protagonists to always be bundled up reflected their ongoing struggles with coming to terms with their relationship, their life choices, and tragedy--life can be tough and cold. The brief scenes set in summertime come as quite a shock.

Jenny and Oliver have a serious discussion in the cold
rain; snow is on the ground.

Oliver helps a weak Jenny across snow-covered Central Park
on her way to Mt. Sinai hospital.

Jenny and Oliver in a rare summer scene

The presence or absence of extras seemed significant, too. At the very end, when Oliver has left the New York hospital after Jenny's death, he wanders around in a snow-covered New York City street and Central Park setting that are completely devoid of other people - an impossibility in NYC--but the choice underscored Oliver's solitude in a world without Jenny. In the screenshots below, Oliver is a tiny image in the unmoving settings.

Third, each of the three main characters--Jenny, Oliver, and Oliver's wealthy father--are complex humans with inscrutable, or at least shifting, motives. Every viewer's reaction to each character is likely to be influenced by their age, status, gender, and life experience. Initially, Jenny's tough-girl persona ("the supreme Radcliffe smart-ass") understandably puts earnest Oliver on the defensive, but then later at times he is rigid and unyielding in their relationship. Oliver Sr. is stern and formal and wants Oliver Jr. to be cautious or at worse give Jenny up due to her lower social status; Oliver Jr's reaction to this in abruptly cutting himself and Jenny off from his parents is either appropriate or disproportionate to what is obviously a father trying to do right by his family depending on your viewpoint. Jenny is the voice of reason, trying unsuccessfully to get Oliver to ease up on his father. Roger Ebert references the characters' multidimensionality in his initial (4-star) review: "The movie is mostly about life, however, and not death. And because Hiller makes the lovers into individuals, of course we're moved by the film's conclusion. Why not?" 

Fourth, the soundtrack is really good. Because it has been so overplayed over the years, you can't blame modern audiences for souring on the theme song or other parts of the score. But it is perfectly tuned to the overall melancholy tone of the film, and has both a contemporary and classical feel appropriate for the story of a classical music student. The composer, Francis Lai, received the film's only Oscar. The main themes can be found here.

The film is a window into 1960s feminism. Viewed through a 21st-century lens, the character of Jenny is a study in quaint contrasts, perfectly reflecting the struggles of women of her era. Initially, her brass, smart-mouth persona complements her ambition as a smart young woman trying to make it in a man's world of music. She wants a career, she bucks convention, she's sexually liberated, she rejects her "old-school" Catholic upbringing for atheism. This places her squarely in the 1960s/1970s version of women's liberation. But many women of this era also were drawn powerfully back, by societal conventions, to being a traditional wife and mother, and we see this happen to Jenny as well. She gives up her career to marry Oliver and wants desperately to have his baby. She says to him when dying, "I don't care about music; I don't care about Paris." In her era, women had not fully figured out how to realize dueling ambitions of career and home--a struggle that while not completely resolved today, has shown considerable advancement.

Jenny dutifully pours coffee for Oliver after serving him breakfast

Greta Garbo and Robert Taylor in one of the many film
adaptations of Camille

It's a modern La Dame aux Camélias! Opera fans know that a number of popular operas end immediately upon the dramatic death of the consumptive heroine -- Mimi in Puccini's La Boheme and Violetta in Verdi's La Traviata are probably the most famous. There is no epilogue - just the tragedy leaving the audience gasping for air. Walking out of Love Story, I was struck with how the sudden end of the film after Jenny's death paralleled these operas. But another lightbulb went on - Segal's story is Camille, the English language version of Dumas' novel La Dame aux Camélias that was the basis for Verdi's La Traviata and several film adaptations. The broad outlines of the story match perfectly. The two lovers are from opposite ends of society. The woman is, for a time, pulled into 'higher' class society because of her lover. The man's family's opposition to her causes deep stress and complications for the young lovers. Ultimately, the terminal illness of the woman brings about a reconciliation of sorts. 

I learned I wasn't the only one who saw the parallels; while I couldn't find the original quote, Wikipedia mentions film critic Judith Crist referring to the movie as "Camille...with bullshit." I'm not sure if Segal intended the parallels; a NY Times interview cites his personal experience and that of several contemporaries (including Al Gore!) as providing inspiration for the film, but no mention of Dumas' self-sacrificing heroine.

So if you've always avoided this one, or haven't seen it in decades, consider giving it a look. It's currently streaming on Amazon Prime. As always, I'm interested in what you think of the film, so please comment below!

In praise of ... Howard Da Silva, character actor extraordinaire

I mentioned in my introductory post how discovering a great new classic film can feel like waking up to Santa's bounty on Christmas morning.  Great films, charismatic stars, and talented directors all create this effect, but it doesn't end there.  I've found pleasure in getting to know terrific character actors who show up over and over in films during specific time periods, or at a particular studio.  One of these is Howard Da Silva (1909-1986) who has astonished me by the versatility of the roles he played, all with exceptional skill. This plain man of average build bounced back from a major career set-back as one of many movie people black-listed by the House Unamerican Committee (HUAC) during the Communist witch hunt era.  What he lacked in movie star glamour, he made up for in spot-on characterizations, deep commitment to his roles, and a wonderful deep resonant voice.

Da Silva was born Howard Silverblatt in the U.S. to Russian Jewish immigrant parents.  When he became an actor he changed his surname to Da Silva, a very common Portuguese name, yet oddly he had no connection with Portugal. His chosen name had the benefit of being distinctive and memorable, in any case.  He launched his acting career on the stage, progressing to significant parts on Broadway, including musical theater.  His film career began in the 40s; in that decade alone he had parts in 38 different movies, mostly as heavies.  He was blacklisted in 1951 after refusing to testify in front of HUAC as to his political activities or those of anyone else he knew. Apparently keeping his lips zipped was somewhat uncharacteristic of Da Silva. Fellow actor Robert Taylor, whose words got him that visit to HUAC in the first place, supposedly said "He seems to always have something to say at the wrong time."  The blacklisting resulted in a hiatus from movies, but Da Silva eventually found work on television and on the stage once again. [For more on the blacklisting in Hollywood check out the current series from www.youmustrememberthispodcast.com] He returned to film in the 1960s and gained memorable parts through the early 1980s.  One has the sense that this was a man who was devoted to, and devoted himself completely to, his craft of acting.

Here are the films that exposed me to Da Silva and made me an admirer.  I realize this just skims the surface of his work, and I look forward to enjoying more of his performances.

THE LOST WEEKEND (1945)
An acting showcase for Ray Milland in the role of an alcoholic struggling through an epic bender, this film allows Da Silva to shine in the small part of a sympathetic paternal bartender in a joint Milland's character frequents.  Da Silva has little screen time but dissolves into his role, demonstrating good chemistry with Milland.

Da Silva (right) attempts to talk Ray Milland out of one for the road.

Da Silva (right) confronts Hugh Beamont and William Bendix
 in his character's usual suave but unyielding manner.

THE BLUE DAHLIA (1946)
In this classic noir penned by Raymond Chandler, Da Silva plays Alan Ladd's rival in love twice over (!) -- as Ladd's estranged wife's lover, and the husband of Veronica Lake (whew!).  As character Eddie Harwood, he is also a sophisticated baddie who cuts an elegant figure as the sly owner of the nightclub of the film's title.  He is smooth as silk while narrowly escaping blackmailers, thugs,scorned women, and Ladd's righteous anger.

THEY LIVE BY NIGHT (1948)In this film, Nicholas Ray's directorial debut, Da Silva inhabits a character quite different than his cool, dapper Eddie Harwood.  Here he is blustering, one-eyed thug "Chickamaw", who is the driving force behind Farley Granger's life of bank robbery, and can never get his emotions or impulses in check.  We feel threatened by him but also drawn to him as his character is never completely black.  We sense that ultimately, he is a once-decent guy who fell victim to his own bad decisions years ago.  Check out the scene in the video link below.

BORDER INCIDENT (1949)
Ricardo Montalban has top billing in this strong docu-noir about a racket smuggling illegal Mexican farm workers across the border.  Da Silva shows up about 30 minutes into the film, but once again portrays the heavy, this time the menacing head of the smuggling operation.  He's never sympathetic here, and his face and voice dominate the screen when he's setting up Montalban's character for a fall.

TWO YEARS BEFORE THE MAST (1946)

Da Silva as Captain Thompson explains wistfully to owner
Stewart (Ray Collins) that he doesn't have to use his sword as
a commercial boat captain.

In this Alan Ladd Paramount film, based on the memoir from Richard Henry Dana, Jr., Da Silva plays the tyrant captain of the sailing ship 'Pilgrim' in the late 18th century.  He insists on all manner of economy to deliver under budget for the ship's owner, who happens to be Ladd's father.  After deprivations, the crew finally mutinies and Da Silva must confront this ultimate test.  Pulling some characterization from his Eddie Harwood role, he stands strong and straight, unyielding to those who would get the better of him.  It's Ladd's film, but Da Silva is the one to watch when he's on screen.

Da Silva efficient about the business of a burial at sea, with
Bendix and Ladd looking sullenly on.

THE UNDERWORLD STORY (1950)
I admit to watching this because of Herbert Marshall.  Dan Duryea is the main character and for once, he's the protagonist, albeit a bit oily.  Once again, Da Silva portrays a gangster, this time at odds with the press, represented by Duryea and his love interest, Gale Storm.

1776 (1972)
For something a bit different, I submit this historical musical comedy-drama as perhaps the film that latter-day audiences may best know Da Silva.  He portrays the pompous, humorous, witty, and ultimately courageous patriot Benjamin Franklin, a role which he owned on Broadway for many years.  And, Da Silva can sing and dance!  He is at home in Franklin's skin, and astonishes when he switches from his 'congenial know-it-all' to dead serious in an instant.  It's a testament to Da Silva that he comes up against but never crosses the line into caricature.  It's written that Da Silva was a bit difficult to work with during 1776's run on Broadway, and director Peter Hunt did not want to work with him in the film; he got the part once he promised to "behave," and, apparently he did!  If you've not seen this film, you can watch the clip below to get a sense for it -- here, Ken Howard, Da Silva, and William Daniels (as Thomas Jefferson, Franklin, and John Adams) tunefully debate what bird (!) should represent the nascent U.S. of A.

Radio -- CBS Mystery Theater
With his great voice, Da Silva made quite a number of radio shows, including a regular appearance on CBS Mystery Theater.  Check this one out from 1976 -- Da Silva uses the full range of voice to create the conflicted policeman Harry in the drama 'The Smoking Pistol 565.'

[THE LOST WEEKEND is showing on TCM on April 9 at 8PM EDT].
Drop me a line mentioning other Da Silva films you'd recommend!