Stars: Four out of five stars

Although "Daisy Kenyon" (based on the exquisite Elizabeth Janeway novel and produced and directed by Otto Preminger) might appear to be a "slight" film, essentially concerned with a love triangle, it is distinguished by intelligently drawn, complex characters, particularly that of the title woman; fine performances; and a fascinating portrait of 1940's cocktail lounge era sophistication and relationships.  Joan Crawford is excellent in the titular role, a magazine illustrator in New York City who is juggling two men and unfulfilled.  One is Dan O' Mara (Dana Andrews), an unhappily married attorney who seems to care for Daisy and respect her on some level, but who will never offer her security or commitment.  Daisy and Dan (as embodied by the principals) look good together and appear suited on a superficial basis, but one doesn't want to see her wind up with this man who -- as is so typical of this type of do-gooder -- sees fit to go to bat for the world's unfortunate (defending a Japanese decorated veteran whose farm was legally stolen after World War II, a politically unpopular victim) as he neglects his own wife and family.  His long-suffering wife Lucille (Ruth Warrick) is portrayed -- offensively, to my mind -- as a shrew as if not supposed to object to his coldness or infidelities or somehow to blame for them.  In one scene, she picks up the extension when he is on the phone with Daisy and interrupts them.  He grabs the phone from her and in a stroke of overt emotional abuse, tells her he never thought she was worth killing before but does now, a scene witnessed by his teary youngest daughter who is herself being abused by the mother.  An interesting subplot:  pain and abuse trickle down.  Dan is a charming, selfish bastard, on some levels, but so multi-dimensional and fleshed out, as he was in the novel, that he retains a flawed humanity.

The other man in Daisy's life is mild-mannered Peter Lapham (Henry Fonda), a decorated Army officer and former Yacht designer.  He is smitten with Daisy in a puppy dog, essentially passive way, since his heart still belongs to the wife he lost five years ago and not whole-heartedly to Daisy.  Hanging his head, he tells her when dropping her off from a date at 3 a.m.," I love you."  She is startled and doesn't quite believe it or return it.  At one point she says to him, “You’re using me, sort of” and he responds, “Yes.  Aren’t you using me?”

The situations might be familiar, but the script and dialogue is not predictable and is sharp, literate and realistic.  When Peter asks Daisy if she loves Dan, she says defiantly, “Yes, I do love him” and he responds, “But it isn’t enough or I wouldn’t be here, would I?”  And later, Daisy to Peter:  “Don’t ever expect one person to replace another one, Peter.  It might be disappointing.”  Or Peter of Dan:  “Funny thing is I like him.”  There are also wonderful shots, such as that of Daisy forlornly alone in her apartment after Dan leaves or the gorgeous image of Daisy and Peter reflected in the window as it is pouring outside.  Frequently the weather is troubled -- either storming or snowing -- perhaps reflecting the tumultuous psyche of the characters.  Daisy attempts to be alone, running to a cabin in the woods, but the two men tail her for a final confrontation in which she must choose.  She attempts to flee in her car, but has an accident in the snow and must return on foot.  Fate pulls her back.

 

Crawford was a remarkable beauty, her appearance continually evolving to suit the times, but I love her look in the 40’s especially when perhaps at its most iconic, a lushness mixed with maturity.  The tailored dresses with shoulder pads and longer hair pulled back from her ears suit the strong, yet glamorous woman she represented.  One can see her freckles here, which is nice.  She also has one of those dignified, assertive lines, defying her status as a sexual outsider or “other woman,” so typical of Crawford and the reason she resonated so strongly with women and continues to remain a powerful role model:  “I’ll do my own thinking, thank you, and my own existing,” she snaps at Peter.

An interesting, fine, vastly underrated film with superb performances from the three leads.  A scene at the Stork Club features John Garfield and Walter Winchell.  Peggy Anne Garner plays one of Dan's daughters.  Pet line:  Peter to Daisy, picking her up:  “Were you ever carried over your own threshold before?”  Daisy:  “Not sober, darling!”  – D. Nowak