The End of the Affair

This is not a great film, but it is better than many critics said it was when the 1999 remake came out. THE END OF THE AFFAIR was one of the key novels of Graham Greene in the 1950s that delved into his intense Catholicism.

With a background of World War II, neighbors Maurice Bendrix and Sarah Miles (Van Johnson and Deborah Kerr) have a deep, passionate romance. But they are separated for a year or so, and when they try to resume the relationship (or when Johnson tries to resume the relationship - Kerr seems relatively hesitant). It turns out that, due to personal experiences, Kerr has had a religious revelation. She is listening to a Catholic priest. She is also trying to help a man with a deformity (a birthmark) on his face who hates God. She is also concerned about the spiritual health of Johnson and of her actual husband Henry (Peter Cushing, in a very moving - and non-horrific role). The film shows how Kerr affects all the lives around her, even beyond her death after a short illness (as the novel does). Yes, it is too talky - novels about ideas (and here it is the age old question of what is real love, the spiritual or the profane)usually are. Greene, good Catholic exponent that he was, would have said that Kerr's devotion to her God was an outpouring of divine true love to her fellow creatures. Her death is not a tragedy. But Greene the novelist and part-time realist cannot leave it there. Johnson's character is bitter at the end of this remarkable novel, and at the end of the film. And his bitterness is directed at the source of that love that triumphed over his profane one.

The Hays Moral Code specifically stated "Adultery and illicit sex, sometimes necessary plot material, must not be explicitly treated or justified, or presented attractively." Still in effect at that time, this is certainly the most explicit treatment of the subject of adultery during the time of the code's strict enforcement from 1935-1955. ("Baby Doll" released in December, 1956 goes a bit further).

While the movie should gets points for its explicit and adult treatment of the subject matter, the film does explicitly preach Catholicism which may be the reason that the theme was allowed. In the 1950's and early 1960's there was a Catholic anthology drama series on U.S. television which often dealt with serious issues like adultery, communism, abusive families, racism, incest, rape and abortion; issues that were almost never raised on television at the time. The show was apparently given a pass because it always ended with one character realizing the issues of his/her ways and having their soul redeemed by joining or rejoining the Catholic Church. This movie reminded me of that show.

The movie does have terrific performances by Deborah Kerr, Van Johnson, and Peter Cushing. It should be watched just for the performances. They underplay their roles beautifully and hit emotional high points in just the scenes that need them.

Graham Greene is an excellent writer and knows how to keep a plot moving and constantly surprises the audience.

One can dismiss this movie as Catholic Propaganda, but the movie is touching, thoughtful and well done. The Catholic Propaganda only mars it slightly, a small price to pay for the pleasure it brings. It is a good affair between two handsome/beautiful people, even if it ends with a bit of repentance and feelings of guilt.

Van Johnson is good as the brooding Maurice Bendrix, and Deborah Kerr is marvelous in the challenging, nuanced role of Sarah Miles. Realistic flavor of WWII London, haunting music, excellent direction and performances combine to make this a memorable, mature film that invites multiple viewings.

I am indebted to Turner Classic Movies for televising this film today. I had not seen it. I am a great admirer of both the novel and the 1999 film version by Neil Jordan. I count it as one of the greatest love stories in literature.

Yes, Van Johnson is miscast as Maurice Bendrix. Still, he is a sincere actor and his work is good considering that Maurice has been "Americanized." I wasn't prepared for the devastating performance by Deborah Kerr. Sarah Miles is one of literature's greatest creations. The "saint" as "whore." Or is it the "whore" as "saint?" I found myself engrossed and deeply moved watching her. It only confirmed my belief that she was with Vivian Leigh one of the two best English actresses in cinema. I love Julianne Moore in the 1999 version and equally love Deborah Kerr in the 1954 version. Sarah Miles is such a great creation that it would be wonderful to see another filmed version and compare the work of three actresses.

Incidentally, "The End of the Affair" is one of those notable works of literature that went from the page to the screen to the opera house (Jake Heggie, composer -- commission by The Houston Grand Opera -- 2004.) I do like the treatment given to the other characters in the 1954 film version. We get to meet Smythe and the priest and Sarah's mother. In the Neil Jordan screenplay, Smythe and the priest are combined into one character, a Catholic priest named Smythe. Sarah's mother is omitted in that version. If I was disappointed in the 1954 version it has to do with the character of Smythe. His character has a horrible facial birthmark that Sarah kisses when she parts from him. In the novel we are told that the birthmark disappeared upon her death. We have no idea that this happens in the 1954 film version. In the 1999 film version, the birthmark is given to Lance, Parkis's son. Also, in the novel, Lance suffers from stomach disorders. We learn that he is cured of that upon Sarah's death. No mention is made of this disorder in the 1954 film version.

Henry Miles, the cuckold, is more tragically portrayed in the 1999 film version. I tip the scales in favor to Stephen Rea whose performance is so true to the gravity of Graham Greene's creation.

A great story of human and Divine love with Maurice and Henry fighting for possession of Sarah's soul and only God receives it.

This is an astonishing artifact from 1955 -- astonishing because it is so grownup and sophisticated in its outlook, and because it grapples with moral complexities and ambiguities that English language films of this period never went near. An adulterous affair begun with a certain amount of cynicism on both sides grows into a true and passionate love affair, which in turn raises issues of guilt, trust, duty, self-denial and religious belief. As a story, it holds our interest and causes us to wonder where it will end. As a parable and philosophical meditation on belief and its role in love and contemporary life, it is both stimulating and unexpectedly moving.

That a novel as layered and difficult was attempted with major stars at this time is surprising enough. That THE END OF THE AFFAIR succeeds on so many levels seems miraculous, especially in the context of most mainstream film product of the mid-'50s.

Van Johnson is not as expressive or deep an actor as the excellent Deborah Kerr and Peter Cushing (and John Mills, Michael Goodliffe and Nora Swinburne) yet his character's relaxed masculinity, reluctant anguish and saturnine, rather malicious jealousy are well-conveyed, and he manages to be a presence you remain interested in. As Greene's Mary Magdalene character, the woman in whom the sacred and profane are mingled, Kerr is terrific in a complex role that is an interesting inversion of her promiscuous, childless woman in the far more famous and popular FROM HERE TO ETERNITY of just two years before. ETERNITY, done for Columbia, the same studio that released this, was far more shallow and conventional in the way it dealt with Kerr's Karen Holmes and her redemption. Just as shallow (and evasive) was TEA AND SYMPATHY, which Kerr did after this, and which received far more fame and attention than was merited.

This 1955 version of THE END OF THE AFFAIR deserves to be much better known and remembered, and all concerned deserve belated kudos for attempting such a provocative film in the midst of Hollywood's synthetic movies of the period. I saw this after recording it on TCM, and would like to see it scheduled in prime time, to perhaps begin to get the wider audience it deserves and to hear commentary from moderator Robert Osborn (for that matter, he ought to do one hour interviews with both Kerr and Johnson while they are still around).

Let the rediscovery and rehabilitation of this good film begin . . .