On the surface, this highly regarded movie, (12 Oscar nominations, though only one win for Wyman), might seem to be little more than a lurid melodrama, but scratch beneath and you'll actually find a scathing scrutiny of life in a small, cloistered community and early markers for societal issues such as single-parenthood, bullying, discrimination against the disabled, victim shaming and rape. Markers mind you, not out and out campaigns for social improvement, at least not overtly, but one would like to think that this serious content opened the eyes and ears of at least some of its widespread audience back in 1948, when it was a big commercial success.
Set in a small community in turn of the 20th century Nova Scotia, whose connection to my homeland might explain some of the very approximate attempts at a Scottish accent by the likes of Charles Bickford and Agnes Moorehead, the plot revolves around Jane Wyman's deaf-mute young woman, Belinda who is demeaningly christened "Dummy" by everyone, including her doughty widowed father and crusty old spinster aunt Bickford and Moorehead with whom she shares farm accommodation. Not that they give her preferential treatment, quite the reverse as, being younger than they, she's given the lion's share of the heavy lifting jobs going.
Things change when a smooth but conscientious doctor, Lew Ayres comes to town and reaches out to Belinda, learning her sign language and lip-reading to encourage her to reach out from behind her invisible walls and connect with society. Unfortunately, society at large connects with her in the loathsome person of the local big-shot, Locky, played by Stephen McNallly, who ruthlessly rapes the defenceless girl and in so doing, impregnates her. So traumatised is she by her experience that she mentally blocks out recollection of the incident, no one is brought to justice for the crime and indeed she's the one who's shamed by the self-styled "principled" citizens of the town, including a sanctimonious shop-keeper and a terrible trio of old, gossiping women who more belong around a witches cauldron. Rumours even circulate that Ayres might be the father, but while he does out of pity offer to marry the girl after she has her child to reduce her local infamy and she clearly loves him, it's in a way he can't reciprocate.
The rapist however can't let alone and decides he wants the child for himself, figuring he can trick his newly-wed wife into getting Belinda to sign adoption papers over young Johnny in their favour. When Belinda's dad gets wind of what he did to his daughter, he confronts Locky, who he's never liked, resulting in a cliff-top fight from which only one walks away. Still Locky persists in his aim, climaxing in a second confrontation with Belinda and her child at the farmhouse which ends with a gunshot.
Well directed by Jean Negalescu in the appropriate noir fashion, (filtered light, dark closeups, darker secrets abounding) and well acted by Wyman, Ayres, Bickford and even, och aye, Moorehead, this is satisfying period noir which probably broke down some barriers both in Hollywood and beyond back in its day.
Set in a small community in turn of the 20th century Nova Scotia, whose connection to my homeland might explain some of the very approximate attempts at a Scottish accent by the likes of Charles Bickford and Agnes Moorehead, the plot revolves around Jane Wyman's deaf-mute young woman, Belinda who is demeaningly christened "Dummy" by everyone, including her doughty widowed father and crusty old spinster aunt Bickford and Moorehead with whom she shares farm accommodation. Not that they give her preferential treatment, quite the reverse as, being younger than they, she's given the lion's share of the heavy lifting jobs going.
Things change when a smooth but conscientious doctor, Lew Ayres comes to town and reaches out to Belinda, learning her sign language and lip-reading to encourage her to reach out from behind her invisible walls and connect with society. Unfortunately, society at large connects with her in the loathsome person of the local big-shot, Locky, played by Stephen McNallly, who ruthlessly rapes the defenceless girl and in so doing, impregnates her. So traumatised is she by her experience that she mentally blocks out recollection of the incident, no one is brought to justice for the crime and indeed she's the one who's shamed by the self-styled "principled" citizens of the town, including a sanctimonious shop-keeper and a terrible trio of old, gossiping women who more belong around a witches cauldron. Rumours even circulate that Ayres might be the father, but while he does out of pity offer to marry the girl after she has her child to reduce her local infamy and she clearly loves him, it's in a way he can't reciprocate.
The rapist however can't let alone and decides he wants the child for himself, figuring he can trick his newly-wed wife into getting Belinda to sign adoption papers over young Johnny in their favour. When Belinda's dad gets wind of what he did to his daughter, he confronts Locky, who he's never liked, resulting in a cliff-top fight from which only one walks away. Still Locky persists in his aim, climaxing in a second confrontation with Belinda and her child at the farmhouse which ends with a gunshot.
Well directed by Jean Negalescu in the appropriate noir fashion, (filtered light, dark closeups, darker secrets abounding) and well acted by Wyman, Ayres, Bickford and even, och aye, Moorehead, this is satisfying period noir which probably broke down some barriers both in Hollywood and beyond back in its day.