Back Street

The first remake of the 1932 Fannie Hurst adaptation, and I don’t know that I’ll ever have reason to endure it for a third time with the 1961 version; here, Boyer & Sullavan make this well worth it. Hard to compare the first two meaningfully, as instinctive as my bias for the Dunne original may be. I will say this, objective or not: Margaret Sullavan is a wonderful performer, I enjoy her incongruously husky voice and girlish charms in every film in which they are on display, but I just cannot give her as much credit for bringing fully to life back-street mistress Ray. Her performance is strong, but so evenly measured: from the turn of the century to 1928 she is the same woman; from a life of freedom to a life devoid of it she is the same woman. Ray Schmidt was one of Dunne’s finest creations, her story all the more horrific for the contrast and change in its rendering: the younger Ray is effervescent, full of spirit; the middle-aged kept woman is almost bovine in her accession to a life of nothing but a married man who can spare a moment for her only once in a great while. Yes I’m enormously biased, but I insist there is a world of feeling and judgment between the two interpretations.

Otherwise, this is the more cinematic, visually pleasing, and kinetic film; Boyer is a trade-up from Boles, bringing a balanced understanding of a man one-half clueless cad and one-half romantic ideal; and the minor changes in scenes and plot development (I have no idea, nor concern about, which is truer to Hurst’s work) are as often improvements as lateral moves. Bottom line, it’s the quintessential weeper narrative and well-suited to a host of remakes; for my part, I’m always interested in stories of early 20th-century social mores and in any incarnation find this one absolutely chilling. Good work all around; hard to say I definitely prefer it to the 1932 film excepting lead performance, though, as I haven’t been able to see the original in a decent print.