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Sometimes you’ve really got to wonder why certain books become a major phenomenon and get adapted into two different movies. By all accounts that I’ve read, this second version directed by Douglas Sirk, the master of melodrama, is the better film simply because Sirk was piloting the thing.
To be completely honest, as big fan of Douglas Sirk’s later works like All That Heaven Allows, Written on the Wind and Imitation of Life, Obsession can’t compete with those three big boys. But it does mark the turning point from which he flipped from solid “women’s picture” director to subversive and sly satirist of the 1950s American lifestyle. Those films maintain their black-hearted power and jaundiced worldviews after all of this time, while Obsession feels the transitional period that it so clearly is. It’s entertaining to be sure, but it’s also, even for a Sirk melodrama, completely, utterly, totally and wildly ludicrous and ridiculous.
Having taken a dime store trashy romance and spun out an exquisitely textured, deliciously acted yet still trashy film, Obsession is nothing but pure entertainment. The kind of film that paved the way for night-time soap operas that we consume like junk food and then tell everyone we “hate-watch” or view “ironically.” There is no such thing, and gone are any notions of good-taste or even logically narrative transitions. This film has turned up its emotionality and tear-jerking impulses to 11 and will make you feel something by the end of it.
Come to think of it, if someone can kind the highly entertaining value of Obsession worth a look then they’re probably ready to move on to Sirk’s deeper, darker and more twisted dissertations on consumerism, social constructs, greed and race in America. Think of this as a litmus test for his brand of cinema.
To try and rehash the plot would take forever, and frankly the whole thing makes zero logical sense. It involves several accidents; a case of blindness, miracle surgeries, reformed playboy, an older widow, love conquers all, and vague crpto-Christian mysticism floating over the whole thing. I found myself constantly having to quiet the logical part of my brain, but, at the same time, I was wildly amused by how insane the whole thing is. The colors are bright and vibrant, the interiors are immaculately decorated, and Rock Hudson and Jane Wyman give solid central performances that almost make the whole thing believable. It’s a strange, bizarre film, but it’s all the better for it.
