Her Sister's Secret

I found this a very touching film, perhaps because I too spent leave in New Orleans during Mardi Gras. However, in my case my loneliness was not assuaged by a tryst with a lovely young woman who gave me access to all the best New Orleans had to offer during wartime. In keeping with conventions of the day the woman is punished for her sin when, not having heard from her lover who has returned to duty, she gives up her baby to her married sister. Although somewhat dated & melodramatic the film works on many levels. I particularly liked the evocation of the New Orleans social scene during Mardi Gras, something I missed when I was there.

I just finished watching the film (thanx, DVR) and, unlike one earlier reviewer, I don't recall Robert Osborne saying it was a great film. Tho he did praise Ulmer in general. But I readily admit my memory of the introduction might not be perfect; I just don't remember him calling it a great film.

It's not a great film. But it is a good one. Despite what yet another reviewer said about the budget, it's definitely a B-movie, probably shot very quickly -- just probably with a bigger budget than some B's, and definitely well-crafted enough to look terrific. Stylishly shot for the most part, the best-looking part is, of course, that marvelously fluid Mardi Gras first act. I was really impressed by how expansive and lively Ulmer, Planck and company could make their inexpensive, studio-bound Mardi Gras.

Still, yes, this is a B, and there are some rough edges. A few blown edits does not a bad film make. Almost all of Ulmer's films, almost all B-movies, have flaws. Often, definitely often in Ulmer's case, they don't negate the strengths of the films -- in this case, smooth, confident direction and cinematography and, for 1946 at least, a *relatively* sensitive and intelligent approach to the subject matter -- more on that later. (It would probably take longer to recite a list of Detour's flaws than to watch the film -- and none of them matter in the slightest; Detour is a great film.)

And the major performance were all quite good, altho I will say that Stephenson took top honors -- something not surprising from the great character actor.

It's funny, reading the negative comments about Winston Severn as young Billy, because enjoying his adorable moppetedness in the film really got me thinking about child actors. Some are remarkable (Ann Carter in Curse of the Cat People, Anna Torrent in Spirit of the Beehive, Nicholas Gledhill in Careful, He Might Hear You, to name just three), but, to a certain extent, at least, extremely young actors, like Severn in this picture, are sorta bad-performance-proof.

He played a three-year-old. He acted like a three-year-old. No, the "performance" wasn't smooth or "professional", but it was utterly real and engaging. No, it's true, he didn't always seem to know what he was doing -- just like many three-year-olds don't always look like they know what they're doing in real life. Would a better-trained (likely, older) kid who hit marks precisely and enunciated every line smoothly have necessarily been better for the film? I don't think so. Severn's utter kid-ness made Billy a hugely sympathetic character. I thought he was a striking plus for the film.

The plot and script bow to filmmaking formulae of the times, and some of the character motivations and the plot developments that come out of them strain to work, but Ulmer and his talented actors handle them pretty well. For me, the hardest part of the film to live with was the very end -- with people other than poor Reid's character apparently getting to decide that he will never be allowed to know he even has a son! Holy keee-rap, that's cruel. But not unexpected from films of the time. As was pointed out, there are even better films of the era that dealt with similar themes (giving up one's child -- sometimes illegitimate,sometimes from a dead or supposed-dead spouse), and they, too, often featured parents and/or children who were conscioulsy denied by others the truth of their relations to each other. It sticks in my craw with those films, too.

Matthew

We know from people like Bobby Darin and Jack Nicholson that, with the stigma of having an illegitimate child once so prevalent, the person you call "Mommy" might not be. Your real mother could in reality be your sister, your aunt, anybody.

In "Her Sister's Secret" from 1946, director Edgar Ulmer keeps this film out of maudlin territory and presents a poignant story of a mother's pain at having to give up her baby for her sister to raise.

Nancy Coleman stars as Toni, a young woman who meets a soldier, Dick (Philip Reed) during the New Orleans Mardi Gras. They fall in love, and he wants to marry her. They decide to wait until his next leave to be sure.

When they part, they agree to meet, if they both feel the same, at a restaurant. Unbeknownst to her, his leave is canceled. He writes to her at the restaurant but the letter never reaches her. By then, she is pregnant.

Toni finally confides in her sister Renee (Margaret Lindsay). She and her husband (Regis Toomey) have not been able to have a child, so she offers to raise the baby as their own. Toni agrees, but in her heart, she never really gives up the baby.

After her father dies, she starts literally stalking the child and his nurse, sitting in the park each day. Truly alone now, she makes a decision that is going to cause problems.

One can't help watching a film today and realizing how different things were when the film was made. Can you imagine someone sitting in a park each day, watching children, and a nurse handing you a kid and asking you to watch him for a minute? Like I suppose that happens.

She would have been picked up by the police the minute someone notices she's there every day. We live in a much different society now.

Also, having an illegitimate child was tantamount to being a criminal, so bad you had to disappear, return later with someone else having taken your baby, or say you were married and your husband died, or end up in a home for unwed mothers. Nowadays people take out headlines announcing an unmarried pregnancy. Amazing.

Anyway, Toni is in terrible pain, and one can't help but feel for not only her, but all the women who went through that situation years ago. In Toni's case, because she believed Dick didn't love her, she could not get past losing the baby, Billy, too.

The Mardi Gras scenes are marvelous, showing the festivities and people's enjoyment.

The acting is very good, with Nancy Coleman giving a lovely performance as a heartbroken woman, and Margaret Lindsay as her sophisticated older sister.

Philip Reed, who at some angles bears an eerie resemblance to Tyrone Power, is fine as the soldier who leaves without realizing he's going to be a father. Regis Toomey plays Lindsay's husband, and he comes off as a genuinely nice guy and a good man.

How wonderful that the little boy who played Billy, Winston Severn, has posted here with his reminiscences of the film. Though he was only four at the time, his memories are strong.

I really liked this film. The actors pulled me in, and it was well directed. Not the world's greatest production company, but it pulled off a winner.

Plot-- A pregnant young woman is left with responsibilities when her soldier lover is abruptly sent overseas during WWII. So she looks to her married sister for help. All of which leads to unforeseen complications.

PRC was infamous for its bottom-of-the- barrel dreck, so why take a chance on one of its productions. All in all, this movie's a good reason why. No, the 1946 flick's not going to be confused with a glossy Ross Hunter soaper from the prosperous 50's. Still, this 90-minutes is well-mounted, well-acted, and intelligently handled. That opening Mardi Gras scene is a grabber, conveying a real sense of joyous abandon. Clearly, PRC popped bigger bucks to back director Ulmer, while Ulmer responds with style and restraint. I particularly like the way the couple's intimate night is conveyed. First there's Toni and Dick in a romantic upspiral, then Ulmer cuts to a romantic shot of the night sky, and finally he inserts a gloriously lit daybreak. The result is a tricky topic finessed via cinematic art.

Then too, a topic like unwed mothers and lost love could easily descend into overload. But not here. The movie manages its touching parts without getting sappy. Plus, the principals (Coleman, Lindsey, and Reed) calibrate without over-emoting despite the heavy material. I expect the topic of tangled relationships really registered with uprooted wartime audiences. Looks too, like the story's moral says a lot about there being more to parents than just biology, even if the point takes a while to work out. I guess my only gripe is with the heavenly choir ending, which really does pile it on. Anyway, this skillful production shows that even lowly PRC could manage a respectable result when it really tried.

It is nothing if not puzzling, that despite all the attention Mr. Ulmer's other work receives, "Her Sister's Secret," remains consigned to some no man's land--ignored, ignored, ignored...

Very bewildering indeed, since, Mr. Ulmer is clearly working above his usual constraints, as is evidenced by the fact that it doesn't look like a PRC film at all! By some feat or other, a bit more coin was dropped here and it shows.

Working this time without his usual collaborators, (or should we say culprits?) producer Leon Fromkess and art director Paul Palmentola) Ulmer achieves something completely unlike the pulp antics of "Monsoon" or "Delinguent Daughters,"--a posh women's picture in the Douglas Sirk mode--all velvet and satin and ball masques.

Indeed, the film looks for all the world like one of Ross Hunter's early black and white dramas for Universal--(before he ascended into Eastmancolor heaven)-such are the film's physical and aural accoutrements, (among the latter note the use of a celestial choir in the fadeout just as in 1959's "Imitation of Life").

To avoid "spoilers" suffice it to say that the story hinges on a well born young miss who finds herself in trouble after an indiscretion with a furloughed soldier during Mardi Gras. Though Miss Coleman's character mentions her extreme "shame," the picture avoids the moral implications of her dilemma in favor of the unavoidable emotional attachment she feels toward her child.

To the picture's credit it strongly emphasizes the permanent natural and ethical link that maternity imposes, (this would be an excellent film for pro-abortionists to see.)

That the principal players are Phillip Reed, soulfully beautiful Nancy Coleman, and tres chic Margaret Lindsay assures the audience of three very good looking leads. In addition it offers veteran player Henry Stephenson a good part preparatory to his trek to Albion in order to film David Lean's "Oliver Twist," (didn't Ulmer rub shoulders with interesting people?)

Though bereft of Eugene Shufftan's fabled expertise on this project, Mr. Ulmer was lucky to secure the services of Franz Planer, a superb cinematographer in his own right, who manages deftly smooth boom maneuvers amidst the moody settings (the work of art director Edward Jewell). This is most evident in the film's superb opening, in which Mr. Planer rides his camera through the flying confetti and contorted, gyrating and swaying movement of the masqued revelries of the Mardi Gras, (this film anticipates, on a smaller scale, the carnival sequence in "Saraband for Dead Lovers").

The settings include the terraced New Orleans restaurant where the film opens, Mr. Stephenson's private library, an Arizona Sanitorium, Central Park and Miss Lindsay's swank Manhatten duplex apartment, which seems to take some of its stylistic cues from Premingers "Laura," (all white on white satin with the requisite terrace.)

And being a women's picture a nod must go to "Donn" who provided the Misses Coleman and Lindsay with a mouth watering wardrobe, which serves as a reminder at what a dear sartorial cost the cultural meltdown of recent decades has wrought--one won't find on screen elegance like this today. Why the milliner alone must have made a killing on this picture! And take a gander at that satin lined split sleeve number Miss Lindsay wears in her final scene.

All told, this is a smoothly turned and consistently interesting treatment of a perennial problem--and deserves a far higher place on the list of Mr. Ulmer's credentials than "Jive Junction".