Spotlight

Spotlight Date: 28-September-08
Spoiler Rating: High

Carrie (1952)

Author Theodore Dreiser is a reliable source for tales of poverty, debasement, and shattered dreams — real crowd-pleasers like the story of Carrie. Aside from being depressing, William Wyler's movie adaptation induces wonderment at the influence of money (or lack thereof) on all aspects of people's lives, from the societal viability of men to the sexual autonomy of women.

Set at the end of the 1800s, Carrie relates the journey of a small-town girl (Jennifer Jones) who moves to Chicago to seek a brilliant future. Renting a bed from her married sister, she starts out slaving in a factory until an injury gets her fired. Already at the end of her rope, she turns to Charlie (Eddie Albert), a slick dandy who flirted with her during her trip to the city. Charlie is not a total scumbag, but a carefree hedonist who sees nothing wrong with using Carrie's destitution and lack of options for his own benefit. Pretty, unprotected women are fair game, after all, and if they have no aboveboard means of support there is always something they can do.

Carrie moves in with Charlie, hoping to get married as soon as possible if only because she is ashamed. Her unorthodox situation makes her especially nervous in front of the debonair and much older George Hurstwood (Laurence Olivier), the head waiter at a fine restaurant whom Charlie tries to befriend. George is distinguished but lives on the fringes of high society, an upper-tier lackey who has placed his wife (Miriam Hopkins) and two grown children within reach of the elite. His efforts have not brought himself satisfaction, however. Seeing in Carrie the happiness he never had, he plays upon her emotions and low self-esteem to convince her to fly with him. She resists for one dramatic moment on the back of a train, but genuine love sways her. When they reach New York, this love seems to be rewarded when he marries her and sets her up in style.

What Carrie does not know is that George has been rendered penniless by his first wife, a harpy with vengeance on her mind. Carrie sticks by her man when they sink into poverty, but their relationship cannot withstand the grinding, daily torture of his unemployment. They finally separate, each wanting the best for the other and heading off on different roads. The damage of their ordeal is such that even when reunited with better financial prospects, the wounds of at least one of them cannot be healed.

Carrie is so well acted that the melodrama never really cloys. In addition, the indignities suffered by the lovers are not far-fetched in a world where the paths to dignity and prosperity are narrow, and where one's birth, looks, luck, and feelings have the power to corrupt and destroy.

Copyright © 2008 The Jujube (M. I. Kim). All rights reserved.