I'm glad I saw Harris in East of Eden (1954) before I saw her here. That way I know what poised, sensitive work she's capable of.
Frankie is a plain-faced southern girl who unfortunately exaggerates her adolescent problems, making her even more unattractive to others. As a result, she feels there's nowhere she belongs. And when she tries desperately to join her brother and his new wife on their honeymoon, she's accidentally dumped onto the road as the car leaves. Rejected also by her peers, her only solace comes from household helper Berenice (Waters) and little boy neighbor John Henry (de Wilde), hardly the acceptance from family (dad's uncaring) and peers that she craves. But then she appears to blame everybody but herself.
Clearly, this is a role that calls for some quiet sensitive moments of the sort that Harris proves so good at, e.g. East of Eden. Instead, Harris's Frankie amounts to a histrionic mess that undercuts not only the character but audience reaction to her. I'm guessing that Harris- - new to the movies in 1952-- was thinking live theatre, and thus exaggerates for the back row. Certainly director Zinnemann was not known for encouraging histrionics from his players. But whatever the source, the flailing arms and near shouting turn Frankie's character into an unfortunate caricature of a maladjusted adolescent. Moreover, it doesn't help that nearly all the screen time is confined to the echo chamber of the family kitchen
At the other end of the spectrum is the regally composed Waters as the housekeeper. It's she who not only anchors Frankie, but the movie as well. The trouble is that Harris's histrionics take attention away from the movie's one truly tragic character, namely Waters's compassionate Berenice. After all, she's the one who does her selfless best to counsel the troubled people in her life. Still, she can't keep her star-crossed brother (Edwards) out of trouble with the law; worse, her one moment of pressing distraction leads to tragedy for John Henry; and finally, she's left behind, while an eager Frankie and her family move to a new house. To me, that last scene, with the forlorn housekeeper sitting alone, humming her favorite gospel about God watching over the lonely sparrow, shifts the entire focus of the film in a surprising way.
Anyway, the movie produces mixed results, at best. It may be Waters's best performance, but, in my view, its certainly Harris's worst. Fans new to the actress, however, shouldn't judge her abilities by this one misfire.
Frankie is a plain-faced southern girl who unfortunately exaggerates her adolescent problems, making her even more unattractive to others. As a result, she feels there's nowhere she belongs. And when she tries desperately to join her brother and his new wife on their honeymoon, she's accidentally dumped onto the road as the car leaves. Rejected also by her peers, her only solace comes from household helper Berenice (Waters) and little boy neighbor John Henry (de Wilde), hardly the acceptance from family (dad's uncaring) and peers that she craves. But then she appears to blame everybody but herself.
Clearly, this is a role that calls for some quiet sensitive moments of the sort that Harris proves so good at, e.g. East of Eden. Instead, Harris's Frankie amounts to a histrionic mess that undercuts not only the character but audience reaction to her. I'm guessing that Harris- - new to the movies in 1952-- was thinking live theatre, and thus exaggerates for the back row. Certainly director Zinnemann was not known for encouraging histrionics from his players. But whatever the source, the flailing arms and near shouting turn Frankie's character into an unfortunate caricature of a maladjusted adolescent. Moreover, it doesn't help that nearly all the screen time is confined to the echo chamber of the family kitchen
At the other end of the spectrum is the regally composed Waters as the housekeeper. It's she who not only anchors Frankie, but the movie as well. The trouble is that Harris's histrionics take attention away from the movie's one truly tragic character, namely Waters's compassionate Berenice. After all, she's the one who does her selfless best to counsel the troubled people in her life. Still, she can't keep her star-crossed brother (Edwards) out of trouble with the law; worse, her one moment of pressing distraction leads to tragedy for John Henry; and finally, she's left behind, while an eager Frankie and her family move to a new house. To me, that last scene, with the forlorn housekeeper sitting alone, humming her favorite gospel about God watching over the lonely sparrow, shifts the entire focus of the film in a surprising way.
Anyway, the movie produces mixed results, at best. It may be Waters's best performance, but, in my view, its certainly Harris's worst. Fans new to the actress, however, shouldn't judge her abilities by this one misfire.