The real undercurrent in 'Wild River' lies in the emotional interplay between the Clift and Remick characters. There's real depth of emotion here, and something, I suspect, well beyond the scope of the director. The passion seems tinged with a rare species of repulsion, (excuse the Freudian reading) like a child rejecting his mother even as he reciprocates her comfort. But there's real power in this romance; a power rarely translated into a filmic medium. Obviously this hints at the true selves of the actors themselves - the resistant, shy, passive Clift and the earthy, confident, sensitive Remick. In many ways, it's one of filmdom's great romances, and bears more than one watching.
At all stages the relationship is mirrored by the environment, and reflected by the resistance of the Jo Van Fleet character to the Tennessee Valley Authority's order of 'get out or be wiped out'. The 'wild river' of the title is, of course, more of an emotional, interiorised torrent than the Tennessee River itself.
The film remains an understated, subtle work, with hints of darkness rather than nostalgia. The minor characters are variously homely and shifty. As in most of Elia Kazan's work, the social commentary runs thick. The humane message remains true today: where, in fact, does true 'progress' lie?
At all stages the relationship is mirrored by the environment, and reflected by the resistance of the Jo Van Fleet character to the Tennessee Valley Authority's order of 'get out or be wiped out'. The 'wild river' of the title is, of course, more of an emotional, interiorised torrent than the Tennessee River itself.
The film remains an understated, subtle work, with hints of darkness rather than nostalgia. The minor characters are variously homely and shifty. As in most of Elia Kazan's work, the social commentary runs thick. The humane message remains true today: where, in fact, does true 'progress' lie?