Far from Heaven

The 2002 historical romantic drama, Far from Heaven, continued to build the reputation of director, Todd Haynes, as a creative who engaged with deep topics and explored themes surrounding social repression, identity, conformity, and queerness through a highly stylized yet believable lens. With it being the first of his films to get notable Oscar nominations like Best Actress and Best Original Screenplay, this more honest take on the picturesque 1950s suburban environment of America effectively pulls on typical societal and cinematic trends and twists them in a way that results in a very subdued and richly ambient, but still engaging film.

Set in 1957 suburban Connecticut, Cathy Winters (played by Julianne Moore) is considered the perfect housewife by her community, and along with her husband, Frank (played by Dennis Quaid) is seen as the quintessential standard to match when it comes to living an idyllic family life. While her days are usually spent dealing with homely tasks, taking care of her two children, and socializing at various community get-togethers, this peaceful existence is upended when it’s revealed that Frank is gay and has been having flings with male escorts for quite some time now. Taking part in conversion therapy in order to sweep this perceived ”affliction” under the rug, Cathy tries to be a supportive partner, but his general dismissal of her leads her to find companionship in Raymond Deagan (played by Dennis Haysbert), the family’s new black gardener who offers Cathy genuine conversation and connection, but in doing so, puts a target on her and her family’s back for associating with the non-white community. With all this stress pilling up with the rampant gossiping from her supposed friends only fueling the fire, Cathy may make a decision that not only hurts her personally but do extreme damage to ones that this society already holds contempt for.

While largely running on flipping certain stereotypes and cinematic tropes which ironically pigeonholes and narrows how the story, characters and script can pan out , this doesn’t prevent Far from Heaven from being an interesting tearing-down of a usually sunnily-portrayed time period, with the smart screenplay, good performances, intimate direction and glorious visuals and costuming only making the experience that much stronger.

Audiences are aware that Hollywood romanticizes several real world topics in order to produce a clean, entertaining feature that doesn’t have any dirt attached, but this makes it even more important to showcase stories that remove that glamorous veneer and present reality in all its facets. One of the prime examples of this is with 1950s America, which Hollywood glorified like crazy with multiple romantic features, melodramas and period pieces set in the era that painted a perfectly quaint and peaceful environment where the only problems that could occur were extremely external (like widespread wars or economic crashes), or purely internal (like familial strife’s or romantic issues). While a lot of these movies are well made and some did take the effort to expose a hint of the period’s darker side (mainly ones directed by Douglas Sirk like All That Heaven Allows, Written on the Wall or Imitation of Life) it’s only fitting that Haynes was specifically inspired by these films when constructing Far From Heaven, which tackles similar topics like social entrapment and taboo relationships, but goes even further with it by addressing racial prejudice, homophobia, and the hostile two-faced nature of this seeming idyllic setting. By incorporating a similar presentation, stage design, musical score, and even atmosphere to these 50s melodramas, it pointedly exposes the falseness surrounding this period and thrusts the audience into a much more complicated environment that uses its remaining glossiness for ironic purposes rather than to fabricate.

Todd Haynes’ direction is very good, commanding these actors and environment in a way that never fully destroys the common conventions, but makes it clear that it houses more subtly, nuance and realism than its melodramatic counterparts, which makes the world, characters, and situation a lot more real and brutal. The story of this housewife having her seemingly ‘perfect life’ stripped away as the ugliness of her situation and the fallibility of herself and those around her rear themselves into view, is pretty gripping stuff, and through dialogue and performances that grow grittier and less petite with each passing issue, visuals that are gloriously atmospheric and rich in color but have a personality above just providing ambience, and a narrative that doesn’t feature any grand climax or stakes, it lets the emotions be felt while still remaining insular, and makes the characters suffer for their actions with no straight resolution or happy ending. The film does feel a little narrow-focused with its intent on deconstructing a specific film genre (ironically inhibiting what it can focus on), but for this specific idea, it succeeds very nicely.

Characters in a melodrama can be complicated , but since their films are usually coated with a sense of sappiness or magnanimous, they can’t really be that complex, which is why it’s fun watching a lot of these tropes get recontextualized in this film. Every character in Far From Heaven fulfills expected archetypes associated with most melodramas or romances of the 1950s, but with this film’s goal of making these tropes experience and react to real world unpleasantness, the intrigue is palpable, very well executed and backed by very good performances. A lot of the acting has an airy, ho-hum frivolity that humorously pokes at the verbiage and attitude of the era, but as the film continues, this cheeriness stops feeling quaint and becomes hollow, lacking honesty, and harbors a sinister underbelly when used against the backdrop of overt racism and miscegenation. The doating neighbors turn out to be backstabbing, the comfort of a well-kept home starts to feel claustrophobic when cornered, and the simple structure of supporting your husband and kids starts to become impossible when you have no power to change things. This is illustrated very well by the main lead, with Julianne Moore originally feeling like an odd choice for a loving 50s housewife but totally fits the part of someone breaking from the stress of needing to be perfect to sustain a pleasant disposition for her crumbling husband and constantly snooping neighbors. Moore keeps the very traditional demeanor and painfully pleasant voice, but shows more layers as the film progresses, and while there’s never a proper explosion on her part, she commands the screen very naturally.

Her supporting cast are also pretty good, allowing for interesting portrayals of rather basic archetypes. Dennis Quaid as Cathy’s husband struggling with his sexuality is pretty interesting to see in such a classical setting and with such a classic presentation, and while the role was originally offered to people like Russell Crowe and Jeff Bridges, they arguably would’ve tried to push the character more into centre stage, whereas Quaid feels quite comfortable as a supporting player, really gives off the look of a typical work-oriented 1950s American (which makes his deviation from that archetype all the more noticeable), and despite his ambivalent even distant relationship with his wife, is never treated like an outright bad guy. Patricia Clarkson as Cathy’s best friend who initially seems to be her one companion in a sea of snitches, but wavers on her loyalty when the status quo is challenged, is also quite effective, and Dennis Haysbert essentially plays the charismatic romantic interest as Raymond, but this typical approach to romance is hindered by societal expectations of pretty white women and adds a complication to what would normally be a straightforward scenario. Sadly, the film’s desire to buck trends and unwrap typical archetypes means that takes precedence over character building or desires (it’s clear what they need to battle, but not really what they personally want), which is a bit of a shame, but the performances are good enough to keep your interest.

The movie’s visual language is very appealing, as while still doing its job of engrossing the audience with prominent colors, a peaceful atmosphere and an authentic enough aesthetic to the real time period and location, the fun and eye-catching manner in which Far From Heaven presents these components makes for a glorious viewing experience. At a first glance, the film has a warm autumn vibe that comes through the smooth coloration of the buildings, orange-hued leaves and overall leafy look to the neighborhood and costuming by Sandy Powell. While all of this is very nice and effectively portrays the 50s, the movie is at its best when it goes above the norm, with the strong coloration of certain scenes done with strong saturated lighting really makes a moment stand out and brings a totally different, even neorealist element to the picture. While it isn’t entirely clear what they fully represent, you can feel the mood switch when these colors are involved (whether it’s the exposing hollowness of deep blue, the vibrant enthusiasm of orange, or the excitable mysteriousness of harsh green).

The camera work by Edward Lachman switches between natural, close-quarters angles that keep you in the moment of drama, and really dynamic viewpoints with strange angles that feel right out of a noir film, it brings a different dimension to this story and keeps you unaware of what’s going to happen in this seemingly easy-to-predict landscape. One of the reasons the film does such a good job at capturing the styling of films from the 1950s is because of the score handled by Elmer Bernstein (who has composed for films like The Ten Commandments, To Kill a Mockingbird, The Great Escape, and Cape Fear), so he’s aware of what to hold onto to retain a classical sound, but also what to include in order to spice things up, bringing in a soften more melancholic element that works as nice contrast from the usually bombastic and grand scores usually present in 50s films.

Far from Heaven is ironically held back by the element that makes it so intriguing, focusing so attentively on dissecting and tarnishing the reputation of 1950s Americana that it prevents traditional narrative escalation or even character building from being explored in the process. This isn’t to the film’s overall detriment as the topics addressed plus the manner in which they’re scripted, acted, and visualized is very effective and memorable, but if the movie was allowed to have stronger characters who had more personality outside of normalized film tropes, it could’ve been even stronger. Even with that in mind, the rich and stylized colors and production, ambient yet revealing atmosphere, good, subdued performances, and a premise that is intriguing enough to draw people in, are all good enough to make this a nostalgic look at the past that doesn’t have rose-tinted glasses attached.