May 4, 2009

THE RECKLESS MOMENT (1949)



Joan Bennett plays Lucia Harper in The Reckless Moment, all-American wife and mother in a small California seaside town. Darby, a lowlife from nearby L.A, gets his greasy hooks into Lucia’s gullible daughter Bea, a student at an L.A. art school. When Lucia warns Darby to keep away he agrees to do so in exchange for some shakedown cash. Lucia refuses and rats him out to Bea, but is disbelieved. When Bea sees Darby later in the family boathouse he owns up to the scam, and in a state of shock she brains him with a boat anchor and flees. Dazed, Darby stumbles through a rotten railing and falls to the sands below. Early the next morning, Lucia discovers his corpse on the beach. She loads the body onto a motorboat and heaves it over the side. All is well until Darby’s body is discovered by the authorities, and a blackmailer named Martin Donnelly (James Mason) shows up in Lucia’s living room, asking for five grand in exchange for some incriminating mash notes from the daughter to the dead man.



Despite much of what has been written about this superior film, The Reckless Moment is not film noir’s take on what a mother will do to protect her family. In this case the family unit is never directly threatened — a man dies, but his underworld status makes it unlikely that the gullible Bea would actually be convicted of, or even charged with a crime. Even in some far-fetched scenario that led to an indictment and guilty verdict, there’s simply no chance whatsoever that the girl would be sent to Tehachapi. In all likelihood, the family would have survived the potential scandal with reputation unscathed, Bea seen as nothing more than the innocent victim of a scoundrel — and a lesson to those ‘free-spirited’ young girls who choose art school. Instead the film represents something far more subtle: what a woman will do to prevent the disruption of her family life, and by extension, the American Dream itself. This idea is brought forth through the relationship of Lucia and the sensitive grifter Martin Donnelly, and explains the casting of an actor of James Mason’s range in such a critical role.


The family structure in The Reckless Moment is an idealized vision of the post-war dream. Composed of a loving couple with two attractive teenagers, a live-in grandpa, and black servant without a care in the world; the Harpers have the day-to-day gripes of any upper middle class family — a hard-working father who is constantly away from home (though he has the worthwhile excuse of war work), a love-sick daughter who craves independence, and a pesky, rambunctious son. Yet the foundation upon which this model family is built is so much bedrock: strong, unbreakable, wholly American. Their relationships are honest and realistic instead of melodramatic and excessive. Their home is both well appointed and threadbare in all the right places. Everything about the Harpers is more than adequate yet somehow ordinary. The town of Balboa is a Rockwellian extension of the family itself: people talk to one another (and like any family occasionally bicker) on the street — and everyone, rich or poor, is on a first-name basis.


The necessary plot contrivance for events in the movie is the absence of the father. Away doing reconstruction work in Berlin, we never see Lucia’s husband in the film. Ever-present through phone calls and hastily written letters, the idea of the missing patriarch looms heavily over the other characters, and we are forced to ponder that none of the dramatic events of the story would have occurred had he been present. Although there are few creatures more lowly than an unwed mother in postwar cinema, the wholesome family is so empowering that, despite an absent father, Lucia Harper becomes a virtual superwoman — a force. It’s important to recognize that while the momentary and understandable breakdown in the familial structure is the cause of much grief in the picture, it is the narcotic attractiveness of that same structure that causes the criminal element in the film to self-destruct rather than assault it.


And yet, there’s a dark underside to Lucia Harper’s mundane and ordinary life. Had she not been the sole parent at the time of Bea’s traumatic encounter with Darby, Lucia would have never discovered her own hidden strength and determination. Her role as housewife is too inherently supportive to allow her to experience the risks, rewards, and responsibilities of true independence — which she struggles with but at the same time finds liberating. This is evident through her fairly free association with Donnelly, with whom she makes no effort to hide her conspicuous relationship. Even as Donnelly is attracted to the wholesome tedium of Lucia's life, she practically welcomes the chance to break with it. One of the film’s chief ironies is that Lucia's pseudo-romantic relationship with Donnelly is markedly similar to that of Bea and Darby. The crucial difference being that while Darby was truly a scumbag, Donnelly is essentially a good man who, not being American, was never given a proper opportunity. His redemption isn't to be achieved through assimilation to the American way of life, but through preserving it with his death.


Understanding the character of Martin Donnelly is crucial. As a poor Irish immigrant orphaned into a life of crime, he is as enamored of the Harper’s family life as he is of the beauty of Lucia. Despite his better judgment and the criticisms of his partners-in-crime, Martin slowly insinuates himself into the family’s activities, from shopping with Lucia to helping son David with an outboard motor, to discussing the old country with the senior Mr. Harper. He is able to do this only through the absence of Lucia’s husband — despite the fact that he is a blackmailer and ostensibly out to destroy them. They accept him into their world with such a sense of ease because of their own neighborly attitudes and his obvious need to be a part of their square life. Martin’s involvement would not have been possible had the husband been present, as there would be no empty space in the Harpers’ lives for him to fill. The temporary facade of his inclusion in their family has opened his jaded eyes to a previously unknown life. This is his first glimpse of the American dream, and he finds it such to his taste that instead of carrying through on his blackmail demands, he instead tries to protect Lucia from his partners, and ultimately kills for her, before sacrificing himself to preserve her and her family — proving with sober finality that the American family and dream are indestructible.





The Reckless Moment (1949)
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Director: Max Ophüls
Producer: Walter Wanger
Cinematographer: Burnett Guffey
Art Director: Cary Odell
Screenplay: Henry Garson and Robert Soderberg, based on a story by E. S. HoldingStarring: Joan Bennett, James Mason, Geraldine BrooksReleased by: Columbia PicturesRunning time: 82 minutes

2 comments:

  1. Beautifully put, Prof.

    Interesting that this was Ophuls' last (completed) American film before he fled the sticky spiderweb of "the dream" and gratefully returned to a more sophisticated European attitude/audience. He plunges right into La Ronde the next year.

    But maybe part of his relief was just at escaping from Howard Hughes and Harry Cohn.

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  2. This sounds highly intriguing--and once again, I love your featured poster art! Unsure of what language "sgomento" is, but talk about eye-popping illustration!

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