‘Island in the Sun’ 1957

Only Dorothy Dandridge & Harry Belafonte rise above the soapy script of 'Island in the Sun.'

Island in the Sun, by British author Alec Waugh, made a huge splash, selling 900,000 copies in 1956. The novel mixed politics, race, and S-E-X. Former 20^th Century Fox head Darryl F. Zanuck, now the studio’s independent producer, envisioned Island as an international picture, with lush locations, torrid romance, and an unflinching look at interracial relations. Well, one out of three ain’t bad!

Darryl F. Zanuck's first independent production missed the mark depicting its subject matter.

The tensions between Island in the Sun’s characters stem from personal and power struggles over race in Santa Marta, a fictional Caribbean island. The Fleury family and their sugar plantation epitomize British power. David Boyeur is a black labor leader who wants to shake up the status quo and fight for the island people. Fleury scion Maxwell, an arrogant ne’er-do-well, decides to run against firebrand David for legislature. A news story reveals that the Fleurys have island blood mixed with their British blue blood. “I wanted to keep things as they were,” the Fleury father laments. This makes Maxwell even more insecure and his sister Jocelyn frets over her chances of marriage to the Governor’s son, Euan. Speaking of the Gov, his aide Denis Archer falls in love with black shop girl, Margot Seaton. Islander David is drawn to Brit aristocrat Mavis Norman. The consequences of all this, with added soap opera twists, causes the cast to drown in the ensuing suds.

'Island in the Sun' made a boatload of money in '57, but wasn't well-liked of by audiences or critics.

Zanuck thought that tough-minded director Robert Rossen was suitable to handle the racial/interracial themes. Either Zanuck or Fox copped out on that aspect. 20^th Century Fox was especially good at the Hollywood shell game, promising scandalous controversy, but delivering mildly salacious soap opera: Peyton Place, The Best of Everything, and Valley of the Dolls are prime examples. The resulting glossy soap opera wasn’t really Rossen’s greatest genre. He made his mark with gritty films, writing A Walk in the Sun, and writing/directing Body and Soul, All the King’s Men, and finally, The Hustler.

Sold as a sexy movie, the couples of Island in the Sun rarely get up close and personal. David and Mavis barely touch each other, Margot and Denis only hug, and Jocelyn (whose racial background is questioned) and Euan first kiss just 30 minutes before Island is over! Despite the pussyfooting around, Island deserves credit for the finale, when David and Mavis break up, and he admits it’s easier for Margot to marry a white man, than for him to be with a white woman.

As close to interracial romance as 'Island in the Sun' got, with a fervent hug from Dorothy!

Still, Island in the Sun received great pre-publicity and became one of the year’s biggest hits. The sun-kissed soap also got the kiss-off by critics, which is why it’s not well-remembered these days. While the look at race and island life is surprisingly direct, interracial romance is handled very demurely, which made Island instantly dated. Still, movies like Island in the Sun took the first baby steps. There have been so few interracial film romances since, which still makes Island a significant footnote in Hollywood history.

Dorothy Dandridge should have been at the peak of a movie career, not dead at 42.

Island in the Sun possessed a great cast of veteran and then up-and-coming stars: James Mason, Joan Fontaine, John Williams, Diana Wynyard, Michael Rennie, Patricia Owen, Stephen Boyd, Joan Collins, John Justin, Harry Belafonte, and Dorothy Dandridge. What really let this solid cast down, aside from the watered-down story, is the soggy script and dialogue.

Dorothy Dandridge's spirit and beauty was a breath of fresh air in 'Island in the Sun.'

Two exceptions are Harry Belafonte and Dorothy Dandridge. Their characters are no better written than the rest, but both have charisma to burn, and Dandridge in particular rises above the stale storytelling.

Dorothy Dandridge’s sweetly beautiful face belies her strong-willed personality. As Margot, she’s a shop girl who wants to better herself—shades of ‘30s Joan Crawford! Then Dorothy falls in love with the governor’s aide, routinely acted by British John Justin. Dandridge has that young Susan Hayward energy, all smart, snappy, and sparkling. Dorothy gets a hug from her white lover, though she demurely dodges a standard screen kiss, per censor cop out. She flies off with him at the movie’s end, just like a decade later, with Sidney Poitier and white fiancée Katherine Houghton in Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner? They kiss, though shown in a tax rear view mirror!

Harry Belafonte has a strong screen presence as David Fleury, the man of the people.

Harry Belafonte, as David Boyeur, is a naturally commanding presence. That he gets to sing the lovely theme song and a rousing “work” ballad with island fishermen is a bonus. Harry is best as the stubborn island labor leader, who wants to help his people, and is blunt regarding class structures. Belafonte’s David meets Joan Fontaine’s Mavis, a wealthy socialite who is kind but self-admittedly useless. Whatever draws these two to one another is ambiguous, so their romance goes nowhere.

However, Belafonte’s David gets in some pointed racial commentary that still rings true today. His labor leader candidate tells a reporter at a party: “One of the most important fights is against tradition. This island is shackled by tradition.”

After heated exchanges between Boyeur and plantation heir Maxwell Fleury, he tells David that his field hand father was treated well by the Fleurys, even when he was sick. Boyeur retorts, “That was charity, Mr. Fleury. What we want is equality.”

Stephen Boyd & Joan Collins don't kiss until the movie 3/4 over! Not the most sultry 'Island.'

Whereas Harry and Dorothy rise above the script, Joan Collins and Stephen Boyd barely stay afloat. Both are in the prime of their beauty and play their parts smoothly. And that’s the problem; they’re performing like graduates of a Hollywood charm school. For once, Joan wasn’t trying to play an American; here, she’s an English ingénue. Collins was in the middle of her Fox tenure and it was roles like this that buried her. Joan was not able to rise above the lackluster script, like other genuine movie stars. Stars that are born film actors connect with the camera, and are at home in front of the lens. Great stars can usually rise above bad scripts, dialogue, and uninspired directors. Joan Collins never could.

As an actor, Stephen Boyd shows off his best assets. 

Stephen Boyd is perfectly pleasant—mostly visually—as the son of the island governor who wants to marry Joan, no matter what her heritage. While relaxed and easygoing, Boyd is a dramatic void on the screen. Stephen Boyd never became a lasting leading man, despite the buildup, because he lacked real depth or charisma. Compare Boyd to Sean Connery, a Scotsman to his Irishman from the same era, and the difference is obvious.

This is about as close to sizzling romance as Joan Fontaine & Harry Belafonte get in 'Island.'

As for Joan Fontaine, what to say? I never thought Fontaine had much range—lots of limpid eyes, the raised eyebrow, and her ubiquitous small smile or smirk. Fontaine could perform well, in an extremely small range, whether as a repressed heroine or smooth villainess. However, her patrician manner is utilized well here and Fontaine seems fond, if not wild about Harry. A still-telling scene is when Mavis and David buy local children sodas and a white mother makes her little girl give the soda back. Of the racism, Fontaine’s Mavis says, “The children don’t seem to know about that, do they?” David responds pointedly, “Not yet.”

The only overt sex scene in 'Island' is when James Mason's Maxwell commits husbandly rape.

As Maxwell Fleury, James Mason has a field day as the drunken son from a wealthy family, much like Robert Stack’s character in Written on the Wind: Self-loathing, ineffectual, and abusive. Maxwell is the personification of white privilege, especially when things don’t go his way. When he announces to his parents that he plans to run for office against David Fleury, they are rightly not impressed. Maxwell has a hissy fit, capped with, “I’d been better off if I had been born black!” This is rejoined by a slap from his mother and his father offering him a drink. Talk about a dysfunctional dynasty.

Mason’s Maxwell is a drag in other ways, too. His fatal assault and subsequent guilt trip hijacks Island in the Sun from its more topical issues. Michael Rennie’s Hilary Carson comes to an abrupt end. Rennie, a solid actor, barely has time to introduce his character, when Maxwell causes his demise.

Joan Collins & James Mason play rich kids in 'Island,' despite a quarter of a century age difference!

This was veteran British actress Diana Wynard’s last film, and is used mostly for her class, as the wealthy Fleury matriarch with a few secrets. John Williams is on duty again as an inspector, out to solve the murder of Hilary. Patricia Owen is sympathetic as Mason’s extremely put-upon wife, Sylvia.

The location cinematography— in Grenada, Barbados, and Trinidad—by Freddie Young, is superb. Young made his name in Great Britain, then in the U.S. at MGM, and finally, Freddie freelanced to great acclaim, especially as David Lean’s favorite cinematographer. As a travelogue, Island is lovely, and the few romantic scenes are artfully framed.

Island in the Sun deserves credit for stating the unfair economic, political, and social system in the Caribbean. The film gets applause for Belafonte and Dandridge getting to play strong characters, without stereotype or condescension. Island is worth watching on several levels, but the film sadly missed an opportunity to portray interracial romance with any real honesty or passion.

Things were apparently more lively off-camera than on, regarding 'Island in the Sun!'

FYI: I put all the movie overflow on my public FB  movie page. 

Check it out & join!  https://www.facebook.com/groups/178488909366865/

Joan Crawford Commands 'The Best of Everything'

Joan Crawford IS tough, driven book editor Amanda Farrow in 'The Best of Everything."

Here’s a classic, sometimes clichéd, Hollywood plot premise: A trio of young women set off in search of riches and romance, only to find hardship and heartache—surprise! Whether it’s Hollywood or Broadway, New York City, Italy, or heck, even Fort Lauderdale, the gal pals inevitably learn tough lessons about life and love. The results are often box-office bonanzas: How to Marry a Millionaire, Valley of the Dolls, Three Coins in a Fountain, and Where the Boys Are, to name just a few.

Fresh from her Oscar-nominated farm girl Selena Cross in 'Peyton Place,' Hope Lange goes to
 NYC as Caroline Bender.

They deserve the best of everything, but seem to get the worst!

The Best of Everything depicts, 1959-style, three young career women who set out to succeed in the Big Apple. The setting is sophisticated Fabian Publishing, but the girls’ goals are pure soap opera. Caroline (Hope Lange) is determined to become a book editor before she becomes a bride. April (Diane Baker) wants to work only to land a husband. Gregg’s (Suzy Parker) dream is to become a stage actress, but gets romantically blindsided. Warning signs of the rocky path ahead: Aging, hard-as-nails editor Amanda Farrow (Joan Crawford) and damaged goods divorced mother, Barbara (Martha Hyer).

Hope Lange, Suzy Parker, and Diane Baker as the "three girls" in the big city!

As with most ‘50s and early ‘60s movies, Hollywood tries to have it both ways: the girls seek to fulfill their ambitions and desires, as they titillate audiences. Then they suffer the consequences, courtesy of Hollywood’s censorship code. Sleeping with playboys will make you crazy or pregnant. Climbing the corporate ladder will only attract married jerks or criticism for not being a “real woman.”

Rona Jaffe was 25 when she wrote 'The Best of Everything.'

Despite promoting it as “In the outspoken tradition of Peyton Place,” like Wald’s most recent big-screen adaptation, The Best of Everything was “cleaned up” for the big screen. The most notable example was when April’s abortion was changed to a movie miscarriage, much like the screen version of Selena Cross in Peyton Place. However, hot young The Best of Everything writer Rona Jaffe insisted that realistic details of her “girls” personal and office lives be kept. Producer Jerry Wald, interested in depicting modern working women, listened.

The “movie-smart” dialogue in this movie has so many clinkers, I’m surprised that The Best of Everything hasn’t hit the camp status of Valley of the Dolls. When despicable Dexter is pressed by April whether he has gotten other girls pregnant, his gallant response is, “Not that I know of.” And when April wakes up in a hospital bed after losing the baby, she turns her head away: “I’m so ashamed…now I’m just somebody who’s had an affair!”

I know my various workplace cafeterias weren't this swanky, but then I wasn't working at
 'Fabian Publishing!'

For me, what makes The Best of Everything so watchable is to know that such stereotypes were once archetypes. Now, they are a snapshot of another era—but I know not all people feel that way. Movies like this are also a tribute to studio era filmmaking at its best. The lush score by Alfred Newman is intoxicating. William C. Mellor’s cinematography is stellar, particularly the NYC locales, capturing it in all its mid-century glory. Director Jean Negulesco was an old pro in utilizing Cinemascope and driving the “three girls” story, as director of How to Marry a Millionaire and Three Coins in a Fountain. The look of the film, from recreating Pocket Books’ offices for the fictional Fabian Publishing, to the various apartments of its characters, is Fab Fifties at its best. Technically, The Best of Everything really is the best. The reality that the makers were selling, even for its time, was fast becoming dated.

Lange is moving on up as the bright young thing in publishing.

There are two acting standouts in this movie. The first is Hope Lange, who gives the one natural performance in The Best of Everything. Lange is lovely but real, a strong presence. It's a shame Hope’s career didn’t take off beyond promising newcomer. However, Hope Lange’s star rose just as the studio system was waning, and a lot of promising newcomers ended up on television, rather than the big screen.

"I'll get the cards out on time, okay?!" Joan as bossy Amanda Farrow, hazing Hope Lange's
 Caroline on her first day at work!

The second is Joan Crawford, in full veteran star mode. Crawford makes her entrance as the dragon lady editor by opening her office door and announcing to Lange’s Caroline, “I’m Amanda Farrow,” in a manner akin to movie space aliens pronouncing their dominance over hapless earthlings. Crawford was well into the next phase of her career: Pepsi spokesperson. So the role of business pro Amanda Farrow was a perfect fit. Crawford plays a variation of the same role that Susan Hayward later immortalized in Valley of the Dolls, Broadway barracuda Helen Lawson—a role Joan expressed interest in! And like hard cookie Hayward, Crawford steals the movie with her withering delivery. Time has stood on Joan Crawford’s side: When The Best of Everything was first released, Joan’s name and image was at the bottom of the film’s posters. Now, on DVD covers, Joan is prominently displayed, despite the brevity of her role.

Joan was not in the best of spirits during filming. Photo by legendary Eve Arnold.

It's really a shame that Joan's part was later trimmed, because she was lured into the part with a showy drunk scene, depicting her lonely personal life. Crawford’s return to film wasn’t under the best of circumstances. Her hoped-for “happy ending” of a marriage to Pepsi executive Alfred Steele ended with Joan cast as a widow. Also, Crawford was short on cash. So, for the first time in 30 years, Joan Crawford took a secondary role. Imagine her mood on the set. There was a clash with co-star Lange over which actress a scene ended on. Joan no longer held sway over Jean Negulesco, who directed her a dozen years earlier in Humoresque, right after her Oscar win. The director, a well-known art collector and artist, also mocked Crawford in front of the cast, over her taste in art—those Keane paintings!

In contrast to Lange’s fresh take on a starlet role was Martha Hyer as Barbara, the slightly older, single mother. Hyer’s obsolete delivery only calls attention to her own sell-by date as a starlet. Despite her inexplicable best supporting actress Oscar nomination the prior year, for Some Came Running, her part was cut as much as co-star Crawford’s. While Hyer was at her short-lived peak and Crawford then considered passé, both got a trim job from a movie brimming with plot and characters.

Diane Baker is gullible April; Robert Evans is greasy Dexter.

Most of the characters are hilariously hopeless. Diane Baker, usually a good actress, is stuck with April, who is a total dip. The small town girl, apparently was dropped on her head as a baby, finds Mr. Perfect in Robert Evans as playboy Dexter. Evans, who looks like a greasy gigolo, is so repellent that he later found the perfect career, as a sleazy movie producer! April is so gullible that Dexter dupes her into getting dolled up for their “wedding” day, and instead takes her to an abortionist.

Suzy Parker starts off all breezy banter as “Gregg,” the aspiring actress whose day job is secretary. Then she goes all Fatal Attraction over Louis Jourdan, the womanizing director, David Wilder Savage—that name alone should have sounded off alarms. Jourdan, unlike Evans, was an established star, so he’s given the chance to look sadly repentant when Parker plunges from a fire escape, after spying on him.

Suzy Parker as Gregg & Louis Jourdan as the aptly named David Wilder Savage!

 Former Crawford leading man Brian Aherne is Mr. Shalimar, the “charming” old office letch. Every time I hear someone say his name, I think of that ‘80s one hit wonder singing Dancing in the Sheets—which is most appropriate for this movie. Despite his pinching and cornering the vulnerable office females, Shalimar always has a quip or quote to deflate his own sails.

Here's my take on the anti-Mildred Pierce, the notorious Mommie Dearest starring Faye Dunaway: https://ricksrealreel.blogspot.com/2021/09/the-making-aftermath-mommie-dearest-1981.html

The nicest guy in the movie is a self-hating office lush named Mike Rice, played by Stephen Boyd. He tries to warn Lange’s Caroline off the career track so she doesn’t end up bitter like Crawford’s Amanda. Ironic, since Rice is pretty cynical himself. Boyd’s attempt at hiding his Irish accent to play an American is right up there with Sean Connery’s Scottish brogue in Marnie. Like Sean, Stephen is such a fine specimen that he could speak Pig Latin for all I care.

A decade later, everything would become much tougher for certain young NYC gals!

The Best of Everything is a look at life in the Big Apple during the Mad Men era, filtered through the lens of studio era Hollywood. The Old Hollywood glamour and the glimpses of a new reality that shine through are fascinating, if not heartwarming reminders of the ‘50s era.