Now, Voyager

Dir: Irving Rapper

1942

*****

The big tobacco companies owe a great deal of gratitude to Irving Rapper’s 1942 adaptation of Olive Higgins Prouty’s novel Now, Voyager. However, other than famously romanticising the sharing a cigarette, Now, Voyager really was the first great film exploring self discovery and second chances, and it hasn’t dated too badly either in the scheme of things. Its alternative romantic narrative also made it ahead of its time and somehow more compelling as it was more realistic and less of a fairytale. The film is an adaptation of Olive Higgins Prouty’s novel where she borrowed the title from the Walt Whitman poem "The Untold Want":

The untold want by life and land ne'er granted,

Now, voyager, sail thou forth, to seek and find.

Producer Hal B. Wallis made Now, Voyager his first independent production and he took an active role in the production, including casting decisions. The initial choices for Charlotte were Irene Dunne, Norma Shearer and Ginger Rogers. Of course, when Bette Davis learned about the project, she campaigned for and eventually won the role. More than any other of her previous films, Davis became absorbed in the role, not only reading the original novel but becoming involved in details such as choosing her wardrobe personally. Consulting with designer Orry-Kelly, she suggested a drab outfit, including an ugly foulard dress for Charlotte initially, to contrast with the stylish, "timeless" creations that mark her later appearance on the cruise ship. The choice of Davis's leading men became important as well. Davis was aghast at the initial costume and makeup tests of Austrian actor Paul Henreid, she thought the "slicked back" gigolo-like appearance made him look "just like Valentino." Henreid was similarly uncomfortable with the brilliantine image and when Davis insisted on another screen test with a more natural hairstyle, he was finally accepted as the choice for her screen lover. In her 1987 memoir, This 'N That, Davis revealed that co-star Claude Rains (with whom she also shared the screen in Juarez, Mr. Skeffington, and Deception) was her favorite co-star. Once you have read her autobiography her films are never quite the same again. The story centres on Charlotte Vale, an unattractive, overweight, repressed spinster whose life is brutally dominated by her tyrannical mother, an aristocratic Boston dowager whose verbal and emotional abuse of her daughter has contributed to her complete lack of self-confidence. It is revealed that Mrs. Vale had already brought up three sons, and Charlotte was an unwanted child born to her late in life. Fearing that Charlotte is on the verge of a nervous breakdown, her sister-in-law Lisa introduces her to psychiatrist Dr. Jaquith, who recommends that she spend time in his sanitarium. Away from her mother's control Charlotte blossoms, and at Lisa's urging the transformed woman opts to take a lengthy cruise instead of going home immediately. On the ship she meets Jeremiah Duvaux Durrance, a married man who is traveling with his friends Deb and Frank McIntyre. It is from them that Charlotte learns of how Jerry's devotion to his young daughter Tina keeps him from divorcing his wife, a manipulative, jealous woman who does not love Tina and keeps Jerry from engaging in his chosen career of architecture, despite the fulfillment he gets from it. Charlotte and Jerry become friendly, and in Rio de Janeiro the two are stranded on Sugarloaf Mountain when their car crashes. They miss the ship and spend five days together before Charlotte flies to Buenos Aires to rejoin the cruise. Although they have fallen in love, they decide it would be best not to see each other again. When she arrives home, Charlotte's family is stunned by the dramatic changes in her appearance and demeanor. Her mother is determined to once again destroy her daughter, but Charlotte is resolved to remain independent. The memory of Jerry's love and devotion help to give her the strength she needs to remain resolute. Charlotte soon becomes engaged to wealthy, well-connected widower Elliot Livingston, but after a chance meeting with Jerry, she breaks off the engagement, about which she quarrels with her mother. During the argument, Charlotte says she didn't ask to be born, that her mother never wanted her, that it's "been a calamity on both sides." Mrs. Vale is so shocked that her once-weak daughter has found the courage to actually talk back to her, she has a heart attack and dies. Guilty and distraught, Charlotte returns to the sanitarium. When she arrives at the sanitarium, she is immediately diverted from her own problems when she meets Jerry's lonely, unhappy 12-year-old daughter Tina who has been sent to Dr. Jaquith. Tina greatly reminds Charlotte of herself; both were unwanted and unloved by their mothers. Shaken from her depression, Charlotte becomes overly interested in Tina's welfare and, with Dr. Jaquith's permission, she takes her under her wing. When the girl improves, Charlotte takes her home to Boston. Jerry and Dr. Jaquith visit the Vale home, where Jerry is delighted to see the changes in his daughter. While he initially pities Charlotte, believing her to be settling in her life, he's taken aback by her contempt for his initial condescension. Dr. Jaquith has allowed Charlotte to keep Tina there with the understanding that her relationship with Jerry will remain platonic. She tells Jerry that she sees Tina as his gift to her and her way of being close to him. When Jerry asks her if she's happy, Charlotte finds much to value in her life, even if she doesn't have everything she wants. In what would have generally been considered as sad ending in those days, the couple agree to leave things as they are with Charlotte uttering the now infamous line "Oh, Jerry, don't let's ask for the moon. We have the stars,". It’s a vivid Hollywood-style adaptation but apart from the changes in location it is very faithful. The production of the novel had to take into account that European locations would not be possible in the midst of World War II, despite the novelist's insistence on using Italy as the main setting. All the European scenes were replaced by stock footage of Brazil. Prouty's quirky demands for vibrant colors and flashbacks shot in black and white with subtitles were similarly disregarded. The film highlighted Davis's ability to shape her future artistic ventures, as not only did she have a significant role in influencing the decisions over her co-stars, the choice of director was predicated on a need to have a compliant individual at the helm. Davis previously had worked with Irving Rapper on films where he served as a dialogue director, but his gratitude for her support turned into a grudging realization that Davis could control the film. Although his approach was conciliatory, the to-and-fro with Davis slowed production and "he would go home evenings angry and exhausted". The dailies, however, showed a surprisingly effective Davis at the top of her form. For years, Davis and co-star Paul Henreid claimed the moment in which Jerry puts two cigarettes in his mouth, lights both, then passes one to Charlotte, was developed by them during rehearsals, inspired by a habit Henreid shared with his wife, but drafts of Casey Robinson's script on file at the University of Southern California indicate it was included by the screenwriter in his original script. The scene remained an indelible trademark that Davis later would exploit as her own. Davis’ performance is obviously key in the film’s success but I think Irving Rapper’s direction is often overlooked as the film is just as visual as it is about the story and performance. The film remains ahead of its time in many respects but it is also rather dated, making it quite a unique and rather special movie. It’s not often that a film succeeds in being both magical and poignant at the same time without being too melodramatic or over the top. Now, Voyager has become hugely influential and is responsible for a certain sub-genre that is still to be bettered.