The Nearest Thing to Heaven: Love Affair (1939)

When two deeply affecting films are viewed in quick succession, they start to speak to each other. This weekend I watched Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives (2010) and Love Affair (1939), both for the second time. They have a radically contrasting approach to narrative, but both use visual patterning to pursue a kind of naturalized transcendence. In both, an idealized vision or emotion is brought down to earth, made approachable and concrete. Love Affair takes the melodramatic conceit of romantic love, based on separation and a purely spiritual longing, and places it in reluctant bodies, who squirm and flirt and have to work for a living.  Boonmee flattens the space between life and death, man and animal, ancient and modern. Ghosts are as natural as the oxen in the woods, and its characters react accordingly, with benign acceptance. In their own way, both films convey what my late, great undergraduate Philosophy professor, M.C. Dillon, wrote in Beyond Romance:

We are our bodies. Including the traces that other bodies have visited upon ours and the traces our bodies deposit in the world as marks of its passage. It is as bodies that we are and are known. In that broad sense, all our knowledge of each other is carnal knowledge.

Boonmee takes the supernatural and makes it tactile, while Love Affair brings romaticism into the intricate choreography of actors’ hands. I previously wrote about Boonmee here, so the following incoherent ramblings will focus on Love Affair.

The plot of Love Affair uses the classic scenario of romantic love, as laid down in the songs of the twelfth-century troubadors in the South of France. They sang of unrequited attractions, impossible to act on because of the custom, as Dillon writes, of using marriage as a means of consolidating family wealth. Dillon goes on to quote the Countess of Champagne, delivering a judgment in a court of love convened in 1174:

We say and affirm…that love may not extend its rights over two married persons. For lovers grant each other all things mutually and freely without constraint of any motive of necessity, whereas the married are in duty bound reciprocally to submit to the will of the other, and to refuse each other nothing.

Love and marriage are mutually exclusive, and this in turn fueled the thwarted erotic imaginations of the eras poets. All of the great romantic stories, Abelard and Heloise, Tristan and Isolde, are premised on separating the lovers. Dillon: “The point is that the intense experience of love they sought could not survive without the barriers that kept their fantasies alive by preventing them from knowing one another.” (Manoel de Oliveria’s masterful duo of Doomed Love and Francisca lays bare the masochistic tendencies of this mode). The ensuing centuries have done little to alter this pattern, aside from changing the tragic ending into one of happy heterosexual couple-dom. The barrier between couples remains, cycled through endless cliches, usually divisions in class or temperament. These tales typically end when the lovers first get to know each other.

Love Affair subtly tweaks this pattern, with director Leo McCarey introducing visual motifs to bring this love for all time into a love for right now. Charles Boyer and Irene Dunne gain a carnal knowledge of each other, in Dillon’s sense, in their first moments together, revealing themselves through their relation to space and their musical gestures. Their first meeting is through a porthole window on board a cruise ship, a tiny opening that halos faces, a partial, idealized view. It is a typically romantic image, Dunne’s face framed like a cameo necklace, and separated from Boyer by a thick wooden wall. In a usual romance, this first meet-cute would presage a long interval of Boyer searching for this mystery woman. Instead, Dunne walks around the corner, in an imposingly squared off fur coat, and continues her sarcastic banter. She goes from a beatific face to a fully embodied woman, and Boyer is immediately taken, grabbing her arm and urging her to listen to his own romantic woes.

It is from this moment that McCarey orchestrates a symphony of hand gestures to indicate their growing bond. In their first meeting, Dunne playfully taps her fingers on her purse, one of her strong moves of studied indifference. Later, the conversation turns to their respective fiancees, and Dunne lifts her pearl necklace to her mouth, a nervous, childish tic, revealing a bubbling insecurity. The flirtatious game they are playing against each other soon turns in to an effortless vaudeville act – their bodies simply work well together. After their initial dinner date, a photographer snaps an embarrassing candid, and with a choreographed bit of sleight of hand, Boyer hands the film to Dunne, who drops it in the ocean while pretending to straighten her hair. In this wave of hand motions, they have gone from antagonists to physical intimates, without a romantic word seeping from their lips, their dialogue being a thick flurry of quips and put-downs.

In the following sequence, Boyer tries to charm a little boy with a game of patty cake, but instead the kid dishes about the gossip surrounding Boyer’s amorous conquests. He feigns hitting the kid before walking away – here his hands fail him, able to work only with Dunne. This visual motif reaches its peak when they visit Boyer’s grandmother in Spain, who is played with quivering intensity by Maria Ouspenskaya. Dunne asks to see her chapel, and kneels in a gauzy, be-fogged light (Rudolph Mate was the D.P.). As she stares intensely at the statue of the Virgin Mary, beseeching silently for answers to her romantic plight, Boyer sits uncomfortably, peering at her. The telling moment occurs when Dunne concludes her prayer, and Boyer does the same, but nervously adjusts his tie as he finishes the sign of the cross. He is shaken out of his self-possession for the first time, just as Dunne was by grasping her pearls. Later, Boyer asks his grandmother to play the piano, and she responds, laughing, “look at my hands”, in apology for her coming performance.

But she continues with a lovely ballad which unites them all. McCarey begins with a close-up of Ouspenskaya’s wrinkled hands stringing out the notes and cuts to a single smiling shot of her, before framing a medium shot of all three, with Boyer and Dunne at opposite sides of the piano. As the music flows from her fingers, Dunne starts humming the tune, and so begins an exchange of glances in shot-countershot. First is Boyer’s adoring gaze on Dunne, followed by Ouspenskaya’s knowing grin towards him. They are all connected by their looks and by the grandmother’s expressive hands, which say more than either Boyer or Dunne have been able to in their circling flirtations. It is an expression of love flowed through Ouspenskaya’s fingers into Boyer’s gaze, and emerging from Dunne’s voice. This impossibly moving sequence is shattered by the brusque bellowing of the crusie ship’s horn, indicating the couple’s departure. The grandmother trails off from the melody, the spell broken, and breaks down in tears. Her grandson is leaving, and the piano’s flowing channel of emotion has been stopped up. From now on Boyer will have to express this bodily emotion on his own, and it’s unclear, after the scene in the chapel, whether he’s capable of it.

The expressive hands disappear once the couple departs the ship, but not before McCarey inserts one final image in this motif, of their clasped hands pulling apart. This begins the classically romantic section of separation, but in this case it is self-imposed. Both Boyer and Dunne realize that their union would mean the end of their comfortable lifestyles – they would lose their rich husband and family, respectively. So they pledge to learn how to make a living, and wed afterward. Dunne becomes a nightclub singer, Boyer a commercial (and later artistic) painter. One ingenious shot finds Boyer painting a Schlitz billboard when his agent yells up to him that he sold his first canvas. Their separation does not “prevent them from knowing one another”, in the usual romantic mode, but provides an opportunity to know themselves better.

In this section McCarey shifts to imagery of reflections in windows and mirrors, representing each character’s self-doubt about the solidity of their dreams. They pledge to meet at the Empire State Building in six months, after building a career. The melodrama’s machinations put more roadblocks in their path, but it ends in a joyful affirmation of embodied love. This final revelation begins in a revival of their first flirtatious meetings, when every word meant its inverse and meaning had to be read on their faces. But then in an extraordinary panning shot, Boyer sees the reflection of one of his own paintings, erasing the doubts represented in the earlier mirror shots, and proving the irreducible nature of their love. In the final image, they dry each other’s eyes with Ouspenskaya’s shawl, a talisman of their unspoken emotions, expressed previously only through gesture. Now they can cry freely.

For a film singing with images, I will end on dialogue, in which Dunne starts with the mystical and ends with a man, shuddering in her embrace:

“I was looking…up. To the 102nd floor. It was the nearest thing to heaven. You see, you were there.”

***

For M.C. Dillon (1938 – 2005), who taught me how to live and how to read Nietzsche, which are one and the same. When I told him I was going to Graduate School for Cinema Studies, he was befuddled – he implied that it was useless, and that I should pursue Philosophy – but then told me a story. He said when he was in the Navy, he had a stop-over in Monaco and attended a diplomatic party. There, he claimed, he danced the evening away with Grace Kelly.

***

LOVE AFFAIR is available to view and download at the Internet Archive in a faded, dodgy print. There are also multiple public domain DVDs out there of similar quality. Anthology Film Archives is screening a sharp, nicely contrasted 35mm print from MoMA next Monday, March 28th.

12 Responses The Nearest Thing to Heaven: Love Affair (1939)
Posted By anne newman : March 22, 2011 6:19 pm

Uncle Boonmee was a mystery to me…I did not like it even a little. Saw it at the NY Film Festival and most of the audience walked out after 15 minutes. I did stay but wished I hadn’t. I felt it an incoherent mess…

Posted By anne newman : March 22, 2011 6:19 pm

Uncle Boonmee was a mystery to me…I did not like it even a little. Saw it at the NY Film Festival and most of the audience walked out after 15 minutes. I did stay but wished I hadn’t. I felt it an incoherent mess…

Posted By Medusa Morlock : March 23, 2011 6:22 pm

I very much remember seeing “Love Affair” at one of the early Filmex film festivals, with Irene Dunne in attendance, after a Q&A conducted by Roddy McDowall. Dunne was wonderful in person, too — no wonder Boyer’s character found her irresistible.

I will definitely watch this again soon after reading this perceptive appreciation!

Posted By Medusa Morlock : March 23, 2011 6:22 pm

I very much remember seeing “Love Affair” at one of the early Filmex film festivals, with Irene Dunne in attendance, after a Q&A conducted by Roddy McDowall. Dunne was wonderful in person, too — no wonder Boyer’s character found her irresistible.

I will definitely watch this again soon after reading this perceptive appreciation!

Posted By jbl : March 24, 2011 1:59 pm

I was introduced to this (as I am sure many were) not by “Love Affair” but by “An Affair to Remember”, McCarey’s remake of his own movie. Much of which Mr Sweeney remarks upon in the discussion of the earlier movie was reproduced in the later movie (Boyer/Grant adjusting his tie as part of genuflection in the chapel, or the mirror reveal of the painting at the end, for example). I don’t think I ever saw a remake follow the original so closely, though the only other example known to me of a director remaking his own film is Hitchcock and “The Man Who Knew Too Much”.

Since I discovered “Love Affair” I have had some questions about the popular(*) remade version. First, I’d be interested in a critical side-by-side review of both films. Then I’d love to know what McCarey’s thinking was about redoing his own film in that fashion. And I’ve always wondered why McCarey included so many “ordinary” people (i.e. not professional or even amateur actors, judging by their performances) in small parts in the Grant/Kerr version — mostly children, but also some like the couple that take Terry to the ballet near the end of the film.

(*)I know part of its recent popularity stems from “Sleepless in Seattle”. However, like the characters in that film, I was quite familiar with “An Affair to Remember” long before “Sleepless” came out.

Posted By jbl : March 24, 2011 1:59 pm

I was introduced to this (as I am sure many were) not by “Love Affair” but by “An Affair to Remember”, McCarey’s remake of his own movie. Much of which Mr Sweeney remarks upon in the discussion of the earlier movie was reproduced in the later movie (Boyer/Grant adjusting his tie as part of genuflection in the chapel, or the mirror reveal of the painting at the end, for example). I don’t think I ever saw a remake follow the original so closely, though the only other example known to me of a director remaking his own film is Hitchcock and “The Man Who Knew Too Much”.

Since I discovered “Love Affair” I have had some questions about the popular(*) remade version. First, I’d be interested in a critical side-by-side review of both films. Then I’d love to know what McCarey’s thinking was about redoing his own film in that fashion. And I’ve always wondered why McCarey included so many “ordinary” people (i.e. not professional or even amateur actors, judging by their performances) in small parts in the Grant/Kerr version — mostly children, but also some like the couple that take Terry to the ballet near the end of the film.

(*)I know part of its recent popularity stems from “Sleepless in Seattle”. However, like the characters in that film, I was quite familiar with “An Affair to Remember” long before “Sleepless” came out.

Posted By MDR : March 24, 2011 2:20 pm

jbl, check out one of my earliest articles about Hollywood remakes:

http://moviemorlocks.com/2006/11/01/more-on-hollywood-remakes-part-3-of-3/

to learn of several other examples of directors that remade their own earlier works, including Wyler, Capra, Farrow and Hawks.

Posted By MDR : March 24, 2011 2:20 pm

jbl, check out one of my earliest articles about Hollywood remakes:

http://moviemorlocks.com/2006/11/01/more-on-hollywood-remakes-part-3-of-3/

to learn of several other examples of directors that remade their own earlier works, including Wyler, Capra, Farrow and Hawks.

Posted By jbl : March 24, 2011 2:48 pm

MDR: Thanks for the pointer – I went back and looked at all three parts of that posting. The desire to improve on one’s own work is much more common than I thought.

I would take one exception to one of your comments in your articles of 4+ years ago: I agree that the Michael York “The Three Musketeers” is a high-quality remake (or a very good version of the Dumas novel). But you can’t claim it was shorter, because the entire story included the second movie, “The Four Musketeers”. The two movies together cover the same plot ground as the Gene Kelly version, but with more time to include subplots or episodes that had to be tossed out of the earlier version.

Posted By jbl : March 24, 2011 2:48 pm

MDR: Thanks for the pointer – I went back and looked at all three parts of that posting. The desire to improve on one’s own work is much more common than I thought.

I would take one exception to one of your comments in your articles of 4+ years ago: I agree that the Michael York “The Three Musketeers” is a high-quality remake (or a very good version of the Dumas novel). But you can’t claim it was shorter, because the entire story included the second movie, “The Four Musketeers”. The two movies together cover the same plot ground as the Gene Kelly version, but with more time to include subplots or episodes that had to be tossed out of the earlier version.

Posted By R. Emmet Sweeney : March 24, 2011 3:02 pm

JBL, I failed to mention in my piece that I viewed LOVE AFFAIR in a series at Anthology Film Archives entitled “Auto-Remakes”, about directors who remake their own films. The program notes are here:

http://anthologyfilmarchives.org/film_screenings/series/36952

They screened AN AFFAIR TO REMEMBER after LOVE AFFAIR. Cary Grant brings a different skillset from Boyer, so AN AFFAIR is more light and comic, while Boyer’s vulnerability opened the film up to more sentiment. On the other side Irene Dunne provides an astonishingly complex performance that is impossible for Deborah Kerr to match. AN AFFAIR might be a more entertaining film, but LOVE AFFAIR I find to be more deeply affecting. Both are great, but for different reasons. I don’t have answers to your specific production questions, but I hope this helps anyway.

Posted By R. Emmet Sweeney : March 24, 2011 3:02 pm

JBL, I failed to mention in my piece that I viewed LOVE AFFAIR in a series at Anthology Film Archives entitled “Auto-Remakes”, about directors who remake their own films. The program notes are here:

http://anthologyfilmarchives.org/film_screenings/series/36952

They screened AN AFFAIR TO REMEMBER after LOVE AFFAIR. Cary Grant brings a different skillset from Boyer, so AN AFFAIR is more light and comic, while Boyer’s vulnerability opened the film up to more sentiment. On the other side Irene Dunne provides an astonishingly complex performance that is impossible for Deborah Kerr to match. AN AFFAIR might be a more entertaining film, but LOVE AFFAIR I find to be more deeply affecting. Both are great, but for different reasons. I don’t have answers to your specific production questions, but I hope this helps anyway.

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