Way Beyond 'Comedy'
As a great fan of classic movies I really love this one and here are some perspectives some posters may have not considered. I was a child of the fifties, just the time this movie was made. My mother wore her hair much like Miss Wyman's in the movie, as did many women of that era. Also, my mother dressed well, even when going grocery shopping. No high heels, but a nice dress and very neat. We were not wealthy, but this was the norm for that era. I miss it, even though I'm casual nowdays, probably too much so. Even when lounging in my jeans, after watching this movie, I am struck at how feminine and so much a mature lady Miss Wyman's character is. Her lovely suits, tasteful accessories and exquisite manners make me yearn for a time long since past.
The name "Stoningham" where the movie takes place is no accident. In ancient history, individuals who did not obey the mores of society were stoned, especially women. This was a typical 50's town, post-WWII prosperous, with it's successful businessemen, cocktail parties, which were the "thing" at that time among the elite, and the country club set. I always see a contradiction of ideals at this time in history. I love it because of the simplicity and the wonderful memories it brings back of my chidhood and my parents, but I can also see a certain shallowness within the individuals who practiced to social climb and who were quick to banish anyone who strayed from the ideals and acceptable limits of this period in history. Some of these ideals and values we would have been better off maintaining, but some were a little too stringent.
The character of Ron, is in direct contrast to Cary's country club set. He is his own man. As Alita said about "Waldon Pond," "Oh, I don't think Ron's ever read it -- he just lives it." This is a quiet rebel who doesn't care whether he's "accepted" or not -- he just wants to live his life on his own terms, without the need of cocktail party or country club invitations. He sees through and past the shallowness of this type of life, with an insight which seems to have been in born in him, and his contentment lies within himself, rather than through the approval of others. He prefers the outdoors and working in horticulture to a stuffy office filled with suits and business deals.
Cary finds herself in the position of many younger widows of her time. At this point in history, women were out-numbering men, 2-1 because of the casualties of WWII. She is left a widow at what should have been some of the best years she and her husband could have enjoyed, unfortunately with a bossy, elitist son, and a social worker daughter who displays flagrant immaturity. I find Cary very much like my own mother -- not a club woman, no social butterfly, but someone who takes great joy in her children and who is kind and giving. She's so very unlike her friend Sarah, who admits she throws herself into club work because she has no children -- she refers to this in a round-about way several times. Cary says the club life is not for her and it's obvious she longs for something much more fulfilling.
It seems Cary can also see through all this shallowness, if she were prefectly honest with herself. Nevermind Ron's looks and appeal, they are very much like individuals. We only see Cary with one close friend, Sarah, and she doesn't want a TV -- she doesn't want a passive existence, but a real life. From that first short lunch, she is taken with Ron's sincerity and honesty. When she visits his place for the first time, it's obvious she could come to love the outdoors and is fascinated by the old mill. When Ron kisses her, she looks afterwards as if she has just realized something -- perhaps she didn't have the love she truly wanted in the first marriage and it has just dawned on her. On their first date with Mick and Alita, Cary has no snobbery against the guests and has a wonderful time. She meets intersting people she would never have seen at the country club, she laughs a lot, dances, and enjoys a cozy dinner by the fire seated with all the eclectic guests at a long table. Her manner is free and relaxed, and she truly seems happy.
After she and Ron decide to marry, she is able to conquor every obstacle except the one her children put up -- "Do you love him so much you're willing to ruin all our lives?" And the most telling remark of all is when Ned asks Cary concerning her engagment, "What does Sarah think?" Then, Sarah later on makes the remark, "At their age, what people think means a great deal." Cary could have overcome what others thought from the beginning, I believe, but it was the misery of her children, especially immature little Kay who cannot even control herself in the library, and Ned who has told her if she marries, not to expect him to visit her because he'd be "too ashamed," that makes her feel guilty enough to call off her engagement to a man she has unabashedly admitted she loves dealy.
After Cary has ended the engagement, she learns too late of the selfishness of her children. After a miserable pre-Christmas season, she excitedly welcomes her children home only to find Kay sporting an engagement ring, and Ned phoning the store for the delivery of the dreaded TV set Cary never wanted. Kay, though in tears for her mother, blames her by saying about her immature behavior the day of the library incident, "You shouldn't have let me get away with it," and Ned, after his fine speech expressing his indignation at their giving up the "home that had been in the family for years" previously in front of Ron and Cary, announces he thinks they should "sell the home." A broken-hearted Cary realizes she has been manipulatd by her children, and all hopes seem lost. In teling Kay, "Don't you see? The whole thing's been so pointless," is her way of saying "I gave up the man I loved for you," but the two of you have no reservations of making your own choices and living your lives exactly as you want, even to the point of running mine. At the close of the scene she sees herself in the reflection of the darkened TV set, sitting and staring back at herself, with no future to look forward to but to live her life vicariously through television programs.
After Christmas her depression deepens for her lost love, and one thing we never see, are her country club friends coming around to see or befriend her. Everyone, she realizes, is living their own lives. She is miserable mentally and physically, and when headaches finally force her to the doctor for a check-up, she hears the first piece of intelligent advice from her small town or circle of friends;` "Marry him."
Although, once she finds out her suspicions of Ron marrying Alita's cousin are incorrect, her pride and fears cause her to turn her car around without seeing Ron, even though she has diven to his place determined to make a new start. Unbeknownst to Cary, this causes Ron's accident, and she drives back home without knowing he is seriously hurt from trying to call to her.
When at home that night, pacing in her living room, she doesn't hesitate to go to Ron once Alita has delivered the news about his accident. When she arrives at his place, she is frightened about his condition and realizes what she may have lost forever. Her mind is made up at that point, and when the doctor returns in the morning, telling her Ron's condition, prognosis and the care he's going to need, she assures him "No more running away." As the wooden shutters are opened on the dawning morning, and Ron awakens, Cary reassures him she's "come home." This leads me to feel she has finally found what she has alawys been looking for. She cares nothing for the country club set, being a club woman, and is even taken aback at how "much love" Ron has put into rennovating the old mill in hopes that she might one day return. The new dawn represents a new life for Cary and Ron both - the snow, the fresh cleansing of old ideas and attitudes, and the deer, the innocence of trust and a spiritual connection with nature.
I loved the fifties, and as previously stated, wish we had maintained some of the values and practices of that era. However, eventually the bonds of "what does everyone think of me" gave way to the permissiveness of the 60's and beyond.