While the romance genre may first call to mind the wild and passionate embraces of young lovers, it is usually the more tentative, less glamorous love stories that are the most effective. Dodsworth belongs to a tradition of simple yet deeply poignant romances that includes Brief Encounter, The African Queen and Remains of the Day. Thanks to some great acting performances under the guidance of William Wyler it is one of the best in the field.
This is Wyler's first truly excellent picture, in which his unique approach seems to have fully matured. Wyler famously (or perhaps not so famously) directed more Oscar-nominated acting performances than anyone else. It wasn't reportedly through great coaching, although his demand for repeated takes surely helped. What Wyler seems to have understood better than anyone else is that a performance is made up of different components - vocal delivery, facial expression, physical presence and so forth - and part of a director's job is to decide which of these to capture at any given moment. For Wyler, getting the right angle on the action was paramount even if it meant violating cinematic convention. Dodsworth is brimming with examples of this.
Take the opening scene, where we first meet Sam Dodsworth. As the camera tracks in Walter Huston has his back to us - we know from the context that this is an emotional time for him, but we are not shown his face. This stops the moment from seeming forced, and allows the emergence of the character to happen gradually. Huston communicates his feelings through posture alone. Wyler then shows him leaving via the most tentative and indirect method possible - a few lines of dialogue offscreen, after which we see his shadow cross the newspaper headline. It is an incredibly tender and respectful introduction to the character, and pays off as his story continues. Throughout the picture the camera tends to be kept at a distance, which emphasises that bittersweet sense of loneliness and also gives those intense facial close-ups at the end (the only ones in the whole picture) all the more impact.
Sometimes Wyler's method of showing (or not showing) a facet of a performance could be highly elaborate. In a key scene between Ruth Chatterton and Gregory Gaye, he needs to have Chatterton in the foreground and Gaye in the background, but it is Gaye's expression that we need to focus on. Wyler solves the problem by placing a lampshade in the foreground which actually obscures Chatterton's head, whilst at the same time framing Gaye. Later in the same scene he shows Gaye (in the foreground this time) watching Chatterton walk away offscreen, although she is reflected in the mirror behind him. Unlike the swooping camera moves or bewildering close-ups that some directors favour, these deceptively simple tactics are rarely distracting because they allow us to become totally absorbed in the performances and the scene.
And what performances... This was probably Walter Huston's career best. What's remarkable is that on paper Sam Dodsworth is not an entirely sympathetic character - shouting at his daughter, sending a spy out after his wife - but as played by Huston he is amazingly likable, and audience members will genuinely care about what happens to him. The other Oscar nominee was Maria Ouspenskaya. Her performance is expressive and certainly memorable so I can see why it got the nod, but Ruth Chatterton and Mary Astor would have been more worthy nominees for Best Actress and Best Supporting Actress respectively. It's also somewhat unfortunate that Ouspenskaya's performance distracts us from Gregroy Gaye, who hovers in the background doing what is probably the best bit of emotional acting of his career.
Also worthy of special mention is Alfred Newman's musical score. Normally a highly emotive score like this weakens a dramatic picture - music shouldn't be there to tell the audience how to feel - but in this case the melody is so beautiful and so perfectly captures the tone that it doesn't matter. The letter burning scene also makes great use of diagetic music, which is rather rare for this period. Again I'm surprised Newman didn't get an Oscar nomination, but perhaps the score was judged too sparse and simple for that.
For such gems as Dodsworth, we have to thank directors who had no ego, and no agenda other than to get the most out of a screenplay. This is one of the most mature and deeply affecting dramas of its era, and still has great resonance today.
This is Wyler's first truly excellent picture, in which his unique approach seems to have fully matured. Wyler famously (or perhaps not so famously) directed more Oscar-nominated acting performances than anyone else. It wasn't reportedly through great coaching, although his demand for repeated takes surely helped. What Wyler seems to have understood better than anyone else is that a performance is made up of different components - vocal delivery, facial expression, physical presence and so forth - and part of a director's job is to decide which of these to capture at any given moment. For Wyler, getting the right angle on the action was paramount even if it meant violating cinematic convention. Dodsworth is brimming with examples of this.
Take the opening scene, where we first meet Sam Dodsworth. As the camera tracks in Walter Huston has his back to us - we know from the context that this is an emotional time for him, but we are not shown his face. This stops the moment from seeming forced, and allows the emergence of the character to happen gradually. Huston communicates his feelings through posture alone. Wyler then shows him leaving via the most tentative and indirect method possible - a few lines of dialogue offscreen, after which we see his shadow cross the newspaper headline. It is an incredibly tender and respectful introduction to the character, and pays off as his story continues. Throughout the picture the camera tends to be kept at a distance, which emphasises that bittersweet sense of loneliness and also gives those intense facial close-ups at the end (the only ones in the whole picture) all the more impact.
Sometimes Wyler's method of showing (or not showing) a facet of a performance could be highly elaborate. In a key scene between Ruth Chatterton and Gregory Gaye, he needs to have Chatterton in the foreground and Gaye in the background, but it is Gaye's expression that we need to focus on. Wyler solves the problem by placing a lampshade in the foreground which actually obscures Chatterton's head, whilst at the same time framing Gaye. Later in the same scene he shows Gaye (in the foreground this time) watching Chatterton walk away offscreen, although she is reflected in the mirror behind him. Unlike the swooping camera moves or bewildering close-ups that some directors favour, these deceptively simple tactics are rarely distracting because they allow us to become totally absorbed in the performances and the scene.
And what performances... This was probably Walter Huston's career best. What's remarkable is that on paper Sam Dodsworth is not an entirely sympathetic character - shouting at his daughter, sending a spy out after his wife - but as played by Huston he is amazingly likable, and audience members will genuinely care about what happens to him. The other Oscar nominee was Maria Ouspenskaya. Her performance is expressive and certainly memorable so I can see why it got the nod, but Ruth Chatterton and Mary Astor would have been more worthy nominees for Best Actress and Best Supporting Actress respectively. It's also somewhat unfortunate that Ouspenskaya's performance distracts us from Gregroy Gaye, who hovers in the background doing what is probably the best bit of emotional acting of his career.
Also worthy of special mention is Alfred Newman's musical score. Normally a highly emotive score like this weakens a dramatic picture - music shouldn't be there to tell the audience how to feel - but in this case the melody is so beautiful and so perfectly captures the tone that it doesn't matter. The letter burning scene also makes great use of diagetic music, which is rather rare for this period. Again I'm surprised Newman didn't get an Oscar nomination, but perhaps the score was judged too sparse and simple for that.
For such gems as Dodsworth, we have to thank directors who had no ego, and no agenda other than to get the most out of a screenplay. This is one of the most mature and deeply affecting dramas of its era, and still has great resonance today.