Before Obsession, There Was Leave Her To Heaven

I try to write to an audience who may not have come across different directors and eras, and help illuminate gems that have passed some generations by. Film is timeless. Discovery is a life long journey. That black and white noir adapted from a Raymond Chandler novel that someone today may think would bore them, may just be the one that speaks to their heart like no other movie could. Take a chance with me, dear reader. Before there was Obsession, there was Leave Her to Heaven.

This 1945 adaptation of Ben Ames William’s novel of the same name is not your typical grayscale noir in the visual sense. Shot in technicolor, the scenes hit your eyes like glimmers of light bouncing off of a precious gemstone. While noir films traditionally borrow from the German Expressionist movement with their dramatic use of shadows and masterful interior lighting creating a sense of intrigue and anxiety, the use of color greatly expands the scope of the cinematography of the film.

Shooting on location in Maine, Arizona, New Mexico, California, Georgia, long and wide shots let you drink in the travel brochure-like beauty of the surroundings. There is an almost surreal quality to the soft textures of the film and its stunning vibrance. It is no wonder how Leave Her To Heaven earned best cinematography at the 1946 Oscars. If I was still doing acid this would be one visual treat. 

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Gene Tierney is an absolute force. As Ellen, a chance encounter on a train with a novelist leads to a whirlwind romance. What begins as a spontaneous affair soon grows increasingly manipulative and psychotic. The veneer of a charming socialite sheds away subtly to reveal the femme fatale underneath. Tierney is hauntingly gorgeous in that stoic manner that you see in starlets of Hollywood’s golden age. A pain behind their eyes, tortured artists in an abusive system used for their beauty rather than their depth. Here she has a role she can sink her teeth into and convey that depth of character. The range in which she can lure her prey into a false sense of security with inviting eyes and soft words, only to turn those eyes into daggers with her icy demeanor. Her face commands a presence, her features a psychological thriller of their own.

Her diagnosis from those around her is that Ellen “loved too much.” Just as she had loved her late father, the man whom her husband bore uncanny resemblance to, causing her to drop everything and marry him immediately. “I don’t want anyone else but me to do anything for you.” As her attachment grows, the black widow spins her web. The controlling party in a relationship seeks to isolate their partner from their family, sow deceit, and create demand for attention through guilt. 

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I could see a modern viewer looking at this as a pretty one-sided character study. “Oh of course it’s the woman who is crazy.” Which I understand. Gene Tierney plays a phenomenal villain, but all good villains need justification rather than just being nihilistically evil. In Obsession it’s well established Bear is the true villain of the story, with Nikki being a controlling monster of his own creation. A sort of modern, toxic spin of Dr. Frankenstein.

In Leave Her to Heaven it’s more black and white. But given the warped sense of undying reverence that Ellen had for her deceased father, and the way she wistfully recalls her relationship with him, one can infer a darkness in her past. There is an uncomfortable possibility of abuse that humanizes her and explains her abandonment issues. The story neglects to focus on that, speaking rather through subtle implications. It is Gene Tierney, whose vulnerability peaks out like sunlight through blinds, who captures the chilling essence of Ellen. The jealously that torments her soul makes you wonder what kindled such evil. Go watch this incredible picture.

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