GILDA (1946) - Directed by Charles Vidor, starring Rita Hayworth & Glenn Ford

Glenn’s favourite film.

Wow. Watching GILDA reveals how the word ‘sultry’ came to be. Someone saw Rita Hayworth in GILDA and knew that all existing adjectives were insufficient to describe the sizzling evocation of sensuality that she embodies in what may have been her finest performance. Temptress. Siren. Tease. Rita Hayworth as Gilda is all of these things. In fact, her main complaint in life became ‘men want to go to bed with Gilda but are disappointed when they wake up with Rita Hayworth’.

I have to confess that, as much as I am a bona fide Glenn Ford fan, I had never seen GILDA until preparing for this series. I had just never got around to it, even though it has been in my video collection for years. One of the highlights of GILDA, from everything that I’ve ever read about it, is when Rita sings ‘PUT THE BLAME ON MAME’. I was confused when, fairly early in the film, Rita was sitting in her husband’s empty nightclub with a guitar on her lap, singing the (in)famous song very simply. Sure, she looked great, but what was all the fuss about?

Later in the film, she sings in a nightclub full of people. ‘This must be it—an encore,’ I thought. No. Different song. I seriously began to question whether I had missed some great subtlety earlier in the film when Rita first sang, when all of a sudden, at the key point in the plot when Gilda is determined to rustle Johnny Farrell’s (Ford’s) feathers for good—she sings MAME again, in a nightclub full of drooling men! Gilda is dressed in one of the sexiest dresses ever draped on an actress, a strapless wonder (no doubt held in place by glue and prayer) and complemented by long, slinky gloves just made to be peeled on cue.

There is no doubt in my mind that THIS is the highlight of the film. Sure GILDA was made in 1946, but Rita Hayworth jumps off the screen and LIVES during this number. It is the celluloid moment that immortalizes her. Even Marilyn Monroe’s finest musical moments would have a hard time matching this scene. Of course that’s like comparing apples and oranges, or should I say, in this case, melons and mangoes!

Lest we stray too far in our admiration of Ms. Hayworth’s wonderful work in this fascinating film, let’s not forget that Glenn’s Johnny Farrell is the protagonist (even though Rita gets top billing). It’s Johnny’s story that we so willingly follow…

Appreciating the quality of Glenn Ford’s work in this film is easier than it might first appear. Yes, Rita Hayworth is the title character, true, and she pulls the eye whenever she is on camera (she’s supposed to—she’s lit, framed and shot so that you can’t take your eyes off her). A lesser male actor opposite her would have faded into the background, but Ford doesn’t. As he had done before, he holds his ground when confronted with a major star. He is like a prize-fighter who plants himself (again, that ‘rooted’ quality) and settles in for the long haul.

There are many laudatory moments in this film. For me, the key to Glenn’s performance is the intensity in his eyes. This is aided, no doubt, by his obvious attraction to and chemistry with, Rita Hayworth. It is no secret that Ford was in love with her. He’s confessed that fact in interviews. Whether or not his feelings were confined to the intensity of their working relationship is beyond the scope of this article (and none of our business). Whatever the truth of the matter, Ford’s performance leaps off the screen as brilliantly (though less obviously) as Rita Hayworth’s does.

Ford plays Johnny Farrell first as a tough, ruthless s.o.b. whom you wouldn’t want to double-cross. After his encounter with his future boss (George Macready, in a fine, underrated performance), Farrell becomes smug, contented, a cat-who-ate-the-cream second-in-command—again not very likeable. Then when Gilda comes into the story, Ford’s whole world is turned upside down. His former love for Gilda can only be manifested in hatred; first because they’ve obviously had some kind of heated past relationship which ended badly, and second because his loyalty to his new boss is threatened. Deep down he still loves Gilda, or at least lusts after her. He is a man in overwhelming denial of his true feelings. Because he has to suppress his desire (or admit weakness to her and betray his boss) he can only do so with a stronger emotion: hate.

Ford spends much of the film playing an intensity level that could become tiresome to watch if it weren’t so enjoyable in its context. After all, in noir land, people have to suffer to make a film interesting! Every time he looks at Gilda he seems in desperate need of a cold shower. Johnny’s cool hasn’t just melted, it has begun to boil.

It is possible that the obvious and wonderful-to-watch chemistry that exists in GILDA between Ford and Hayworth is the reason why Glenn prefers this picture above all his others—after all, his favourite type of film is the Western. Ford and Hayworth were friends and even neighbours for many years. One suspects that today he does not think of his fiery redheaded favourite without a few tears.

Glenn Ford showed us in GILDA that he was not to be confined to good guy roles, as in A STOLEN LIFE. He was an actor with range. Johnny Farrell couldn’t be more of a contrast from Bill Emerson. He’s a rat. But we still love him. Only a real star could pull that off!

Critics have not been kind to GILDA’s happy, convenient ending. I suspect it is the jaded cynicism of contemporary thought combined with the expectation of the majority of later film noirs that leads some to malign the ending of this film. Try this on for size: we spend the whole film waiting for Gilda and Johnny to get together. Can they live with each other, since they obviously can’t live without each other? The answer is Yes; after their petty jealousies and selfishness are stripped away. Love can redeem.

When the lights dim and the silver screen begins to flicker, there is a curious satisfaction in watching two characters destroy one another. Let us hope there will always be a greater satisfaction in watching two people mature beyond their foibles. I liked the happy ending of GILDA and I’m not afraid to say it. And it takes two powerful, talented and brilliant actors—like Hayworth and Ford—to pull that off without being cloying.

After all, fans in 1946 weren’t disappointed. The box-office success of GILDA catapulted Hayworth and Ford into the galaxy of the screen’s immortals. For Rita, she would arguably never give a finer performance on film. For Glenn, his star was just beginning to shine. It was as if GILDA was akin to striking the Mother Lode. The rich veins of Glenn Ford’s artistry were finally exposed. He was to successfully mine them for the next 45 years.

GALLANT JOURNEY (1946) – Directed by William A. Wellman, starring Glenn Ford, Janet Blair, Charlie Ruggles & Arthur Shields

‘This is the story of the first man who ever flew!’

What a combination! Glenn Ford and William Wellman. Wellman’s great story-telling skills and brilliant compositions give Glenn a forum in which to shine.

Ford plays John J. Montgomery, the little-known flight pioneer. This is the first of Glenn’s foray into biographical portrayals (although it could be argued that Martin Eden in THE ADVENTURES OF MARTIN EDEN is a Jack London substitute, and thus, sort of a biography).

Ford plays an obsessed, driven young man of singular vision and Janet Blair plays the slightly awkward young woman in love with him. The loving way she drinks him in with her eyes when he’s absorbed in his work is a lovely moment, typical of Wellman’s strong visual style.

Quirky visual humour abounds as when Charlie Ruggles prepares for bed wearing his full-length night shirt and ‘moustache wrap’.

A beautiful scene occurs when Ford secretly transports his forbidden flying machine in a hay wagon to an open field. He unloads the hay against the yearning expanse of a cloud-filled sky as Ms. Blair hides in the bushes, yearning in a different way and barely able to contain her excitement at watching the man she loves. Ford’s first flight is a wonder to behold and the scene ends with him looking longingly at the skies, vowing to fly even higher next time.

The determined yet innocent young man Ford portrays is a total switch from his preceding role in GILDA. Bearing this low-key versatility in mind, it is easier to appreciate Ford’s talent as we watch it unfold in his early post-WWII films.

GALLANT JOURNEY is pure Americana, with its simple story, beautiful vistas and noble pursuits and dreams. Canadian-born Ford is suitably all-American—heroic, uncomplicated, honest and hard-working.

There’s a lovely scene where Blair teaches Ford to dance. I couldn’t help wondering if Ford’s wife, Eleanor Powell, had given him lessons!

When Ford develops vertigo and is told he must never fly again, this shifts the story towards a more dramatic turn. Ford’s acting is more than up to the challenge. This set-back is soon overcome when Ford meets Professor LaSalle (played by Jimmy Lloyd, who had previously worked for Wellman in the superb THE STORY OF GI JOE). The Professor offers to fly the ‘aeroplane’, as it is newly named. The photography in the aerial sequences is poetically beautiful. Wellman captures the sense of wonder that must have accompanied the first flight from a significant height—the ‘aeroplane’ is carried up a thousand feet in the air by a hot air balloon, then released to glide majestically through the air to a safe landing amidst cheers of congratulations and joy from an excited crowd of well-wishers.

A subsequent failed flight with tragic consequences provides another set-back for Ford and a suitable opportunity to brood (something he does well with his dark looks). Finally he concludes that ‘science and exhibitionism don’t mix’.

Interestingly, Ford is encouraged to continue his pursuits when he is visited by his priest (played by the wonderful Arthur Shields, brother of Barry Fitzgerald) who tells Ford that throughout history great sacrifices have been necessary to achieve great accomplishments. The camera then dramatically zooms in on the cross on Shield’s Bible, a reminder of arguably the greatest sacrifice in history. Ford nods in understanding. A powerful moment.

This striking symbolism (again, Wellman’s great visual sense) is followed in a lighter vein when Ford appears frantically riding a bicycle built for two. He pedals from the back seat, looking ‘incomplete’. What we find out next is that he is hurrying on his way to Janet Blair’s to inform her that his hard work has finally brought him money—$25,000 worth. She swoons into his arms and then a moment later they are seen riding off together on the bicycle. It is a charming, romantic and amusing way to summarize their new relationship.

Glenn has to age in this film and does so, convincingly.

It is in this type of Americana film that Ford’s speech pattern resembles that of Henry Fonda. They don’t sound the same, the pattern is similar—the smooth, almost drawling quality and the over-emphasis of a key consonant on a well-chosen word.

The Ford/Blair husband/wife relationship is warm and supportive. The scene in which Ford crashes and sustains a serious injury is beautifully realized. Ford the dreamer is seen in close-up and as he slips away his wife’s head fills the screen. When turning to the camera it is as if his dream and determination has mysteriously transferred into her. It is a powerful way to end the film.

GALLANT JOURNEY is not a great film, but a very good one. Ford is competent, sensitive and appropriately dreamy. It is not his finest performance, but it is a fine performance which is testament to Ford’s oft-forgotten range and versatility.

GLENN FORD RETROSPECTIVE PART ONE LINKS:
INTRODUCTION
FILMS OF THE 1930s
FILMS OF 1940
FILMS OF 1941
FILMS OF 1942-43

GLENN FORD RETROSPECTIVE PART TWO LINKS:
INTRODUCTION & A STOLEN LIFE
FILMS OF 1946
FILMS OF 1947-48
FILMS OF 1948-49
FILMS OF 1949
FILMS OF 1950

Jon Ted Wynne