Based on the 1881 novel Washington Square by Henry James, The Heiress was adapted into a stage play before becoming a film. Olivia de Havilland was actually encouraged to see the play and told that it would be a perfect vehicle for her; after she saw it, she immediately contacted William Wyler, who upon seeing the play remarked, "Let's do it."
James was inspired to write Washington Square by an incident he heard about involving a manipulative but handsome young man who courted an introverted, "dull" young woman simply for her money. Rather than craft a predictable, melodramatic tale of an unsuitable suitor, however, James instead created a far more complex story, mostly due to his cultivating a less obvious but more cunning, malicious, and grotesque villain: the father. The film of The Heiress follows the novel's themes and story closely, and it is this unexpected characterization that fuels the drama and emotions of the film.
The story, set in the 1840's, is deceivingly simple: Catherine Sloper (de Havilland) is a young, awkward woman whose deceased mother has left her $10,000 a year; her father, Dr. Austin Sloper, played to perfection by the late-great Ralph Richardson, promises to leave her an additional $30,000 per year on the prerequisite that she marry someone he approves of. Enter Morris Townsend (Montgomery Clift), a man we the audience are never completely sure we can trust. Morris and Catherine's courtship comes to a devastating and heart-wrenching end in one of the most memorable scenes in the film.
Olivia de Havilland's performance in The Heiress is perhaps her most popular, rivaling only her role as Melanie Hamilton in Gone with the Wind. Celebrating her 100th birthday this year, de Havilland is the last surviving cast member of Gone with the Wind and enjoys a carefree life in Paris. In this film, the way she uses her voice is one of the most enduring aspects of her performance. In the beginning, she is exceedingly awkward and shy, but also exudes the desperation Catherine feels simply to be loved. Her reactions to her father's increasingly direct cruelty are realistic and at times painful to watch. Similarly, the rapture in her face and especially her eyes when Morris courts her is both moving and painful - painful when one knows the outcome awaiting Catherine. In the most moving sequence of the film, when Morris has abandoned her after promising to return in a few hours for their elopement, Catherine's cauldron of emotions - hurt, humiliation, shame, anger, and despair - culminate in the growing tension in de Havilland's face and the explosion of emotions as the clock strikes. The look on her face as she lurches up the stairs the next day, the sight of the morning sunrise visible from the upper window, is cutting to watch. After that scene, the sweet lilt to her voice is gone along with her innocence; by the end of the film, Catherine is a woman one can hardly recognize. It is a terrific performance and definitely my favorite de Havilland role.
The themes of the movie are complex and definitely do not align with expected Hollywood stories, neither from the 1940's, nor today. Frankly, it's even less likely for a movie in today's market to have the daring and aggressively anti-Hollywood ending that The Heiress handles so deftly.
Ralph Richardson plays Austin Sloper with arrogance and cruelty. His malignant grin and cold sneer are but a few of the elements that makes one despise this character. He purposely interjects himself into Catherine's relationship with Morris, supposedly because he is concerned about her future. Yet, Austin constantly compares Catherine to her dead mother, complaining that she will never compare to her mother's beauty, grace, intelligence, or charm, which leads to deeper questions of his motivations: why does he care so deeply about Catherine marrying Morris? Does he truly worry about his fortune going into Morris's hands, or is there something darker behind his motivations?
It is worth noting that both Morris and Austin are materialistic characters; in fact, Austin may be even worse because the one thing he cares about above all else is his money: more than his estate, his patients, his family, and even more than his own daughter. In one of the most chilling scenes of the film, Austin announces to Catherine that her one and only virtue is her money. In his words, "there are a thousand girls who are prettier, a thousand more clever." Think about: Austin has told his own flesh and blood that she has absolutely no redeeming qualities beyond the money, which he controls. Considering Morris is at least kind to her and does make her feel good about herself, it is little wonder that she falls for Morris. This revelation drives a permanent stake in Catherine's relationship with her father and is difficult to watch.
When one takes a moment to think about the story taking place beneath the surface, The Heiress is actually quite a creepy tale of a father and a suitor each trying to "own" Catherine as a possession, a symbol of their respective statuses and wealth, a token to be won. This conflict between Catherine and Austin is tinged with a sexual undercurrent in that Austin wishes to recreate his deceased wife, but is angered by his daughter's inability to fill this role.
It should be noted that Aaron Copeland composed the magnificent score, which adds even more depth and emotion to an already deep and emotional film. Although Wyler was never a director known for obvious "camera tricks," his directing is exacting and calculated. Each shot, each image, each actor is placed deliberately, as if each shot were a painting.
Truly, The Heiress is a film in which everything came together perfectly: acting, production design, story, music, directing. Olivia de Havilland won her second Academy Award for this film (the first was for To Each His Own from 1946). Montgomery Clift, who had almost immediate success with two films in 1948 (Red River and The Search), cemented his status as a leading man with his subtle and intelligent performance here. Clift was a brilliant actor and was also the first American Method actor on film, not Marlon Brando, who had his breakout role in 1950 with A Streetcar Named Desire. Inconceivably, Clift was also yet another incredible talent who never won an Oscar.
In short, The Heiress is a masterpiece and a film that begs to be watched over and over, its power and complexities never dulling over time.
Grade: A+
