When they say they don't make them like they used to, all can heave a collective sigh of relief in the case of Imitation of Life. This version is a remake of the 1930s Claudette Colbert feature and keeps the same plot points, but changes the occupation of the lead to glamorous actress so that Douglas Sirk and Ross Hunter can deliver the glittering lavish trappings that their woebegone fans expect.
The plot - and I use that term advisedly - centers on gorgeous white widow/actress Lana Turner and her black servant/friend Juanita Moore, and their two daughters (ultimately played by Sandra Dee and Susan Kohner).
Raise your hand if this sounds familiar. Turner neglects Dee in favor of pursuing her acting career, so Dee ends up turning to Moore for motherly support. Conversely, light-skinned Kohner is able to pass for white and wants to pursue the wider avenues this opens for her, but her obviously black mother is a stumbling block.
The "drama" of Turner's plot is basically that she regrets neglecting Dee and ultimately sees the world she has created for herself as unworthy of the sacrifices. I would note that a male character in similar circumstances would pat himself on the back for such achievements, but women are not allowed these luxuries in 1950s cinematic rot. So when she realizes that Dee has fallen in love with her boyfriend, will she do the motherly thing and basically gift him to her daughter? Quite frankly - who gives a raging fig what these entitled twits do? And given that said boyfriend is played by the eternally stiff John Gavin, Dee may well end up hating her mother for sticking her with him. Turner prances and struts around in various gowns floating on a cloud of glamour, while Dee tears up prettily. Yawn.
The secondary plot -which focuses on race in a barely topical manner - is just plain shameful as it plays out. Kohner is basically turned into an insensitive villain for rejecting the demeaning world she views as being the lot of black people of the period and made to seem thoroughly unreasonable for trying to pass for white. Moore offers no support to her outside of basically telling her to not rock the boat. Moore would be a much more fascinating character had she challenged her daughter to push boundaries and break stereotypes, but the film might have offended its white audience of the era and thus the woman who wants the status quo to remain is turned into a martyr, while the the woman wanting a better life is an insensitive, selfish shrew.
The most embarrassing scene is when Turner descends from her cloud of entitlement to lecture Kohner on her treatment of her mother and insist that she has never been treated differently in their home, to which Kohner docilely acquiesces. This allows the white target audience to feel weepy and noble.
However, it is pure bunk. Turner and Moore are friendly, but their friendship depends entirely on Turner being the superior and Moore being the grateful underling, and on the notion that these roles may not be reversed. So it is a friendship with a lot of baggage attached. After a while, Moore's long-suffering routine and refusal to let her daughter break down racial barriers becomes exhausting, especially since Moore ultimately makes no effort to teach Kohner any pride in being black, but rather to stick with whatever hand the powers that be deal you.
Mahalia Jackson's song is lovely and the film looks great, but ignore anyone who tries to convince you this is a topical or even a very good film. It is pure Hollywood soap opera hokum and glitzy trash that rarely gets made anymore - for good reason.
The plot - and I use that term advisedly - centers on gorgeous white widow/actress Lana Turner and her black servant/friend Juanita Moore, and their two daughters (ultimately played by Sandra Dee and Susan Kohner).
Raise your hand if this sounds familiar. Turner neglects Dee in favor of pursuing her acting career, so Dee ends up turning to Moore for motherly support. Conversely, light-skinned Kohner is able to pass for white and wants to pursue the wider avenues this opens for her, but her obviously black mother is a stumbling block.
The "drama" of Turner's plot is basically that she regrets neglecting Dee and ultimately sees the world she has created for herself as unworthy of the sacrifices. I would note that a male character in similar circumstances would pat himself on the back for such achievements, but women are not allowed these luxuries in 1950s cinematic rot. So when she realizes that Dee has fallen in love with her boyfriend, will she do the motherly thing and basically gift him to her daughter? Quite frankly - who gives a raging fig what these entitled twits do? And given that said boyfriend is played by the eternally stiff John Gavin, Dee may well end up hating her mother for sticking her with him. Turner prances and struts around in various gowns floating on a cloud of glamour, while Dee tears up prettily. Yawn.
The secondary plot -which focuses on race in a barely topical manner - is just plain shameful as it plays out. Kohner is basically turned into an insensitive villain for rejecting the demeaning world she views as being the lot of black people of the period and made to seem thoroughly unreasonable for trying to pass for white. Moore offers no support to her outside of basically telling her to not rock the boat. Moore would be a much more fascinating character had she challenged her daughter to push boundaries and break stereotypes, but the film might have offended its white audience of the era and thus the woman who wants the status quo to remain is turned into a martyr, while the the woman wanting a better life is an insensitive, selfish shrew.
The most embarrassing scene is when Turner descends from her cloud of entitlement to lecture Kohner on her treatment of her mother and insist that she has never been treated differently in their home, to which Kohner docilely acquiesces. This allows the white target audience to feel weepy and noble.
However, it is pure bunk. Turner and Moore are friendly, but their friendship depends entirely on Turner being the superior and Moore being the grateful underling, and on the notion that these roles may not be reversed. So it is a friendship with a lot of baggage attached. After a while, Moore's long-suffering routine and refusal to let her daughter break down racial barriers becomes exhausting, especially since Moore ultimately makes no effort to teach Kohner any pride in being black, but rather to stick with whatever hand the powers that be deal you.
Mahalia Jackson's song is lovely and the film looks great, but ignore anyone who tries to convince you this is a topical or even a very good film. It is pure Hollywood soap opera hokum and glitzy trash that rarely gets made anymore - for good reason.