The Universal/Ross Hunter film era of the 1950's was at its prime when director Douglas Sirk was at the helm. However, once Sirk took an early retirement in 1959, the Universal/Hunter team could not match the quality of the Sirk flicks with their assembly line of homogeneous, sudsy replications, which started with 1960's "Portrait In Black" and ended with the 1966 film "Madame X". But boy did they try! And 1961's "Back Street", the dated, recycled tale of a woman's sacrifice, was no different.
This time around, producer Ross Hunter recruits fading star Susan Hayward and his favorite up-and-coming star(who never came up, by the way)John Gavin, to play lovers torn apart by circumstance. Hayward plays Rae Smith(rae, all lower-case), a wannabe fashion designer stuck in Podunk, U.S.A. Rae, in an outrageous serious of coincidences, meets Paul Saxon(Gavin)while he is on a lay-over in Podunk, and they begin a brief romance. We all know the romance won't last - and it doesn't. Rae's car runs out of gas while she is on the way to meet Paul for a flight to Chicago. He thinks she has stood him up. Years pass and Rae becomes a top designer....remember, this is Ross Hunter-land, where characters fall in love in minutes and the women become rich & successful seemingly overnight. Many years later, Rae and Paul meet again. But this time, a woman, not circumstance, try to tear them apart. And who is this woman? Why, it is none other than Paul's alcoholic, nut-job wife, played to crazed perfection by the always reliable Vera Miles. Rae somehow manages to accept being Paul's kept woman, while he tries valiantly to deal with his psychotic wife. This can't be going to a pretty place - and it doesn't. Tragedy ensues for all.
While Hayward receives top-billing, it's actually Miles who steals her thunder with a fantastic performance. And John Gavin is....well....John Gavin - stiff, stoic and simply beautiful. "Back Street" tries to be a lot of things - heart-wrenching, three-hanky weeper; emotionally-gripping drama; a showcase for Hayward. And it fails in all areas. Where it does succeed is in being a chunk of mass-produced melodrama - a hastily thrown together women's movie. But somehow, someway, Ross Hunter takes some beautiful gowns, sparkly sets and throbbing music(courtesy of the always dramatic Frank Skinner), and makes this nonsense work. At least for fans of this schlock.
This time around, producer Ross Hunter recruits fading star Susan Hayward and his favorite up-and-coming star(who never came up, by the way)John Gavin, to play lovers torn apart by circumstance. Hayward plays Rae Smith(rae, all lower-case), a wannabe fashion designer stuck in Podunk, U.S.A. Rae, in an outrageous serious of coincidences, meets Paul Saxon(Gavin)while he is on a lay-over in Podunk, and they begin a brief romance. We all know the romance won't last - and it doesn't. Rae's car runs out of gas while she is on the way to meet Paul for a flight to Chicago. He thinks she has stood him up. Years pass and Rae becomes a top designer....remember, this is Ross Hunter-land, where characters fall in love in minutes and the women become rich & successful seemingly overnight. Many years later, Rae and Paul meet again. But this time, a woman, not circumstance, try to tear them apart. And who is this woman? Why, it is none other than Paul's alcoholic, nut-job wife, played to crazed perfection by the always reliable Vera Miles. Rae somehow manages to accept being Paul's kept woman, while he tries valiantly to deal with his psychotic wife. This can't be going to a pretty place - and it doesn't. Tragedy ensues for all.
While Hayward receives top-billing, it's actually Miles who steals her thunder with a fantastic performance. And John Gavin is....well....John Gavin - stiff, stoic and simply beautiful. "Back Street" tries to be a lot of things - heart-wrenching, three-hanky weeper; emotionally-gripping drama; a showcase for Hayward. And it fails in all areas. Where it does succeed is in being a chunk of mass-produced melodrama - a hastily thrown together women's movie. But somehow, someway, Ross Hunter takes some beautiful gowns, sparkly sets and throbbing music(courtesy of the always dramatic Frank Skinner), and makes this nonsense work. At least for fans of this schlock.