PORTRAIT OF JENNIE (1948)

Selznick Releasing Organization, 86m 27s

"There's something different about that child."
—Eben Adams

At times my random movie selections yield unexpected parallels and pronounced contrasts. The day prior to viewing PORTRAIT OF JENNIE my choice was SOUL (2020), the latest creation from Pixar Animation Studios. The Pixar film presents a jazz pianist in search of his big break, that special performance that catapults a musician into the public consciousness for good. By way of an incredible adventure, he learns a person's life should not be defined by a narrow pursuit. Life is about living each moment for all it is worth, savoring all of the little day-to-day things our wonderful world has to offer. In its story about a struggling artist in search of the recognition that has eluded him, the hybrid romantic fantasy / film noir PORTRAIT OF JENNIE makes precisely the opposite point.

At The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City hangs a painting entitled "Portrait of Jennie," completed in 1934 by local artist Eben Adams (Joseph Cotten). After the introductory segment attests to the importance of what we are about to see, we meet the as of yet unsuccessful artist Eben in the winter months of 1932. With an affectless voice, he presents some of his landscape paintings to Matthews (Cecil Kellaway) and Miss Spinney (the always credible Ethel Barrymore). Matthews registers no interest in Eben or his work, but Spinney sees something in him and makes a purchase against the better judgment of Matthews. Eben then encounters an oddly enchanting teenage girl in Central Park named Jennie Appleton (Jennifer Jones). After some mysterious dialogue, she vanishes. Taken with the girl, Eben pulls an all-nighter to sketch her to the best of his memory. He later discovers a newspaper that was in Jennie's possession was printed in 1910.

NY through a canvas

A young woman from the great beyond?

Thanks to the encouragement of his buddy Gus O'Toole (David Wayne), Eben lands a job painting a bar mural of Michael Collins for pub proprietor Moore (Albert Sharpe), but all of Eben's thoughts are with the enigmatic girl Jennie. Spinney buys his sketch of her, which seems to confirm Eben's promise as a serious artist. He honors his contract with Moore, but shows no pride in unveiling his finished project as the artist makes a quiet exit from the noisy pub. A far more important assignment awaits with his ethereal vision Jennie, who fires-up Eben to believe his portrait of her will bring him an international audience. If Eben's early paintings lacked passion, there is nothing emotionally hollow about his devotion to Jennie and his rendition of her likeness.

As is too often the case in Hollywood cinema of all eras, the age difference between the two leads is rather off-putting (about 14 years, complicated by the fact Cotten looked a bit older than he was and Jones looked younger). More troublesome is Eben's fascination with Jennie as a child; at least Jennie does not enter Eben's apartment until she is able to announce her status as college freshman. By the time she graduates, Eben wishes to marry his muse. Eben's feelings for Jennie are buoyed by his friendly relationship with the older Miss Spinney, which suggests a certain timelessness about human affection.

The inspiration of a lifetime emerges from darkness

Based upon the 1940 novella of the same title by Robert Nathan, PORTRAIT OF JENNIE is a product of The Selznick Studio, with plenty of flourishes that announce the fact. William Dieterle was an inspired choice to direct for Selznick. The director of THE DEVIL AND DANIEL WEBSTER (1941), Dieterle shows great awareness of depth in his compositions; often the viewer's eye is compelled to review information in the foreground, middleground and background. Dimitri Tiomkin's musical score, based upon themes of Claude Debussy, sometimes becomes overly intrusive, especially when it needlessly alerts the viewer we are in the presence of the fantastic. Ultimately the production's budget would tailspin out of control due to a revolving door of writers (Leonardo Bercovici, Paul Osborn, Peter Berneis, Ben Hecht), an extended shooting schedule, the addition of a Magnascope process with green tint for the lighthouse sequence and the high costs associated with extensive location work. The result was a box office failure that had a chilling effect on Selznick's career as a producer. Nonetheless PORTRAIT OF JENNIE would win the Academy Award for Best Effects, Special Effects. Cinematographer Joseph H. August, who died shortly after the production's completion, received a posthumous nomination for Best Cinematography, Black-and-White. His occasional shots through a painter's canvas memorably add to the film's dramatic momentum.

The perfect balance:  foreground/background composition

Though doubtless intended a romantic fantasy first, the filmmakers tap into a noir palette for their overarching theme of irreversible tragedy. The noir film often insists current events are dominated by something significant that happened in the past. That notion is embedded in the very titles of some of the genre's well-known classics, i.e. OUT OF THE PAST (1947), THE DARK PAST (1948) and TOO LATE FOR TEARS (1949). With the spectral character of its title, PORTRAIT OF JENNIE shares a connection to those films, and even reaches beyond them in the way it conflates the past with the present. When Eben first meets Jennie, she talks about the past as if it were the present. We discover she has no choice, she is a tragic noir character forever trapped in a time passed.

The film noir sensibility of PORTRAIT OF JENNIE is immersed in water, which factors in the death of Jennie, who interestingly reappears surrounded by snow and ice. In his "notes on film noir" (FILM COMMENT, Vol. 8, No. 1 [SPRING 1972], pp. 8-13), Paul Schrader observed:

"There seems to be an almost Freudian attachment to water. The empty noir streets are almost always glistening with fresh evening rain (even in Los Angeles), and the rainfall tends to increase in direct proportion to the drama. Docks and piers are second only to alleyways as the most popular rendezvous points."

The water motif that trickles through the film is absorbed in two other crucial noir themes:  obsession and fate. Eben's pursuit of Jennie is a story of hopeless obsession, a search in vain for an unattainable woman. Mother Mary of Mercy (Lillian Gish) reveals the impossibility of Eben's desire to be with Jennie, last seen near Land's End in Cape Cod some 10 years ago. The fate element is underscored when Matthews' dog makes a beeline for Eben. Matthews explains his dog gravitates to strangers who are in some sort of danger zone. An animal's instinct proves sound when fate leads Eben to a climactic sequence in New England that seems to mark him for death, in many ways the most logical conclusion for the narrative. Indeed it would be more appropriate for Eben to lose his battle with the raging storm that seems brought about by Jennie herself. Eben's existential determination is curious; not only what looks to be certain oceanic death deters him from a woman who no longer exists. From a casting standpoint, noir credibility is well established with the sturdy presence of Joseph Cotten, who appeared in CITIZEN KANE (1941) and SHADOW OF A DOUBT (1943), films that would influence the noir form considerably. He also appeared in WALK SOFTLY, STRANGER (1950), an underrated noir gem that deserves critical reassessment (did film critic Bosley Crowther ever get it right?).

Rainfall follows Jennie's departure

The dual-layered Blu-ray edition available from Kino Lorber Studio Classics is framed at 1.33:1, in disagreement with the original theatrical aspect ratio of 1.37:1 (according to IMDb.com). Though generally acceptable, the source material reveals a fair amount of scratches and various artifacts. The audio commentary track is courtesy of film historian Troy Howarth, perhaps the most affable voice working today. As always, he shows both deep knowledge and passion for the film under review. His standout observation is the inherently humanistic quality of PORTRAIT OF JENNIE; all of the film's characters are basically good people. With the occasional exception, such food has been eliminated from Hollywood's modern menu. Indeed there are some "creepy undercurrents" to the romance as Howarth puts it, but I agree the filmmakers make no attempt to nudge the viewer's thoughts in that direction. The driving force behind the film was producer David O. Selznick, whose production goal was a lasting tribute to the love of his life. Those who subscribe to the auteur theory tend to point to directors exclusively, though Howarth considers Selznick one of those rare producers who might be considered in such terms.

Howarth dives deeply into the background information of all of the major contributors, and even offers good details about some of the bit players. Howarth cites Berkeley Square, a play by John L. Balderston that premiered in 1926, as a work that likely influenced PORTRAIT OF JENNIE. The portrait around which the plot revolves was painted by artist Robert Brackman, who required multiple attempts to produce a product in harmony with Selznick's conception.

The disc also includes a trailer gallery.

The noir staircase

Finished portrait of Jennie, unveiled in three-strip Technicolor