Imitation of Life
Released in 1959, Imitation of Life is a remake of the 1934 film of the same name, and the last of the films Douglas Sirk directed for Universal, in Hollywood. As with many Hollywood films, one needs to read between the lines when watching Imitation, and when one does so, it is pregnant with meaning.
There is so much to say about this film. It truly is a gem, though upon its release, it was largely dismissed as some sort of cinematic confection.
Lora Meredith (Lana Turner) has been drawn to New York after the death of her husband, to pursue a career in acting: “ … to be seen”. She and her daughter take in a black woman Annie, to work as a maid, and her unusually fair-skinned daughter, Sarah Jane.
With Annie keeping the house and children in order, Lora blindly sets upon realising her dreams.
Imitation of Life deals with a number of themes: the personal sacrifices and self-destructive drives that fuel ambition, the impoverished financial and social status of black Americans, the obsession with appearances, and our propensity towards pre-judging and being duped by appearances (people presume Sara Jane is not Annie’s daughter because of the colour of her skin; Annie presumes Lora is well-to-do because of the way she is dressed).
It is perhaps the racial issues that are the most striking. While Lora and Annie are apparently close friends, Annie continues to call Lora: “Miss Lora”. Furthermore, we can only be flabbergasted to discover (quite late in the film) that Lora is, and has been, (for a number of years), completely ignorant of Annie’s life beyond her domestic confines. In a simple but stunning revelation, Annie tells Lora: “You never asked…”.
Sarah Jane’s angst is evident from the first scene, and her subsequent denunciation of her parental and racial heritage is heartbreaking. She wants to live a “white” life: a life of opportunity. While her behaviour is deplorable, who can blame her for wanting what she does?
In the same vein, Lora’s shallow and egocentric ambitions seem absurdly extravagant when the dreams of her dark-skinned counterpart, Annie, stretch only as far as having a modest roof over her head for herself and her daughter (with the reassurance that she eats very little, and would require no pay).
Sirk directed a number of melodramas for Universal during his time in Hollywood, and he did so very cleverly: subverting the traditional genre format to reveal a subtext that is critical of existing social structures, and of the formulaic imperative to resolve melodramas with a happy ending – a grossly inaccurate reflection of reality, Sirk believed. While delivering these endings as he was supposed to do, their bittersweet underpinnings linger long after the glow of the “all’s well that ends well” final shot has faded, not to mention the tragedy it has left in its wake.
Aside from the story and its subtext, there’s the marvellous cinematography. As Lora becomes more successful and glamorous, the production becomes more lurid and sumptuous and beautiful to look at: she is draped in jewellery that truly bedazzles – the jewellery being a potent symbol of appearances and reflection. Indeed, the opening credits (compiled by the same team responsible for the fluorescent neon in Scorsese’s Casino), feature a cascade of falling jewels (as does the box in which the DVD is beautifully presented).
This is one of a number of Douglas Sirk films being released by Madman in what is shaping up to be a very interesting collection of his works.