We're going to have to keep some things straight, so please pay attention. "A" is loyal, sincere and society-style rich. Her mom's even richer. She's in love with "B," a charming, compulsive philanderer and nicely turned-out cad. They're married. Every Thursday they go to Mom's mansion to have dinner for three. "C" is a luscious, high-gloss tramp who knows what she wants and when she wants it. Now that "B" is into the money, she might want to take up where things left off with him before he married "A." "D" is decent, honorable, and patriotic, with a past that's part detective, part U. S. spy. He loves "A," who sees him as a wonderful friend. He detests "B," and sees him for what he is, the rain on "A"'s obliviously happy parade. "E" is a nice kid to come home to after a hard day's work. She'd have dinner ready and the pillows plumped. "E" may seem a little bland but she's got great legs. She loves "D," but he's too decent to be anything but decent toward her.
With Mom observing, with the drinks poured, with easy morals on the East Side, with loving commitment on the West Side and with everyone extremely well groomed, the anguish starts and the tears flow. If it weren't for murder and two other elements, East Side, West Side would probably only be worth remembering by the fans of women's weepies. The murder and the hunt for the murderer take up the last half of the movie. Death provides some great, gloomy photography and some needed energy. Stanwyck as the murder suspect provides...I guess she provides the plot.
The best things about this movie, however, are those two other elements: Barbara Stanwyck and James Mason. Just for the record, Stanwyck is "A," Mason is "B," Ava Gardner is "C," Van Heflin is "D," and Cyd Charisse is "E." And we shouldn't forget Gale Sondergard, one of Hollywood's great character actors who plays Stanwyck's mother. Mason may pull the wool over Bab's eyes (and we kind of like him when he does), but Sondergard, as gracious and as smooth as old gold dollars, is a woman to be wary of when she smiles sympathetically.
One can understand why Stanwyck agreed to the movie. She was still a major name-above- the-title star, but she was on the down slope of age. East Side, West Side gave her a chance to play believably younger than she was, to look stylishly dressed and coifed at all times, to move around in the kind of upper-crust apartments only Hollywood could decorate, to emote everything from love to regret, from anxiety to calm resolution. It's her movie, and she risked loosing it only when James Mason decided to take the intriguing part of the hopeless, hapless, assured and self-deceiving cad Stanwyck has married. Stanwyck remains Stanwyck, one of Hollywood's rare stand-alone actresses on whom any film she's in seems always to focus on her. Mason usually had that same affect. He could come off as cruel (The Seventh Veil), or a rogue (The Wicked Lady) or hopelessly sad (Odd Man Out), but it was hard not to concentrate on him. When cruel, he could be romantic. When a rogue, he could be dangerous and good company. When hopelessly sad, he could embody feelings close to tragedy. But, my goodness, just look at the roles he picked to play when he came over to Hollywood in the late Forties. Mason made his own choices. He was intelligent and a risk taker. He liked working for first-rate directors. He often made possible small films by agreeing to star in them. He was a superb film actor. And here he is in East Side, West Side as Barbara Stanwyck's husband, a man unable to keep his pants zipped.
Stanwyck brings authenticity to the movie, even though it's all Hollywood. She has to contend with too many major characters and too many balls in the air. Mason, however, makes us like the situation. Two scenes toward the end of the movie, the first when he has a conversation with Gale Sondergard as Stanwyck's mother, and the second when he leaves a message over the phone to be delivered to Sondergard, are both high-class bits of immensely satisfying comeuppance acting.
Mason had a long career and played in some real doozies, but I can't think of a performance of his I've seen that I didn't enjoy. Try him in The Reckless Moment, (1946) a great film directed by Max Ophuls, or, at the end of his career, in The Shooting Party (1985). As for Stanwyck, there are a lot of movies to like. For melodrama, death and under-appreciated Hollywood angst, try The Strange Love of Martha Ivers (1946).
With Mom observing, with the drinks poured, with easy morals on the East Side, with loving commitment on the West Side and with everyone extremely well groomed, the anguish starts and the tears flow. If it weren't for murder and two other elements, East Side, West Side would probably only be worth remembering by the fans of women's weepies. The murder and the hunt for the murderer take up the last half of the movie. Death provides some great, gloomy photography and some needed energy. Stanwyck as the murder suspect provides...I guess she provides the plot.
The best things about this movie, however, are those two other elements: Barbara Stanwyck and James Mason. Just for the record, Stanwyck is "A," Mason is "B," Ava Gardner is "C," Van Heflin is "D," and Cyd Charisse is "E." And we shouldn't forget Gale Sondergard, one of Hollywood's great character actors who plays Stanwyck's mother. Mason may pull the wool over Bab's eyes (and we kind of like him when he does), but Sondergard, as gracious and as smooth as old gold dollars, is a woman to be wary of when she smiles sympathetically.
One can understand why Stanwyck agreed to the movie. She was still a major name-above- the-title star, but she was on the down slope of age. East Side, West Side gave her a chance to play believably younger than she was, to look stylishly dressed and coifed at all times, to move around in the kind of upper-crust apartments only Hollywood could decorate, to emote everything from love to regret, from anxiety to calm resolution. It's her movie, and she risked loosing it only when James Mason decided to take the intriguing part of the hopeless, hapless, assured and self-deceiving cad Stanwyck has married. Stanwyck remains Stanwyck, one of Hollywood's rare stand-alone actresses on whom any film she's in seems always to focus on her. Mason usually had that same affect. He could come off as cruel (The Seventh Veil), or a rogue (The Wicked Lady) or hopelessly sad (Odd Man Out), but it was hard not to concentrate on him. When cruel, he could be romantic. When a rogue, he could be dangerous and good company. When hopelessly sad, he could embody feelings close to tragedy. But, my goodness, just look at the roles he picked to play when he came over to Hollywood in the late Forties. Mason made his own choices. He was intelligent and a risk taker. He liked working for first-rate directors. He often made possible small films by agreeing to star in them. He was a superb film actor. And here he is in East Side, West Side as Barbara Stanwyck's husband, a man unable to keep his pants zipped.
Stanwyck brings authenticity to the movie, even though it's all Hollywood. She has to contend with too many major characters and too many balls in the air. Mason, however, makes us like the situation. Two scenes toward the end of the movie, the first when he has a conversation with Gale Sondergard as Stanwyck's mother, and the second when he leaves a message over the phone to be delivered to Sondergard, are both high-class bits of immensely satisfying comeuppance acting.
Mason had a long career and played in some real doozies, but I can't think of a performance of his I've seen that I didn't enjoy. Try him in The Reckless Moment, (1946) a great film directed by Max Ophuls, or, at the end of his career, in The Shooting Party (1985). As for Stanwyck, there are a lot of movies to like. For melodrama, death and under-appreciated Hollywood angst, try The Strange Love of Martha Ivers (1946).