i braced myself for disappointment at the start of this vaunted classic i've been dodging for years-- but i needn't have worried. it seems that growing up in soulless white suburbia, reading thoreau as a kid and knowing there was something- anything- beyond the nightmare of bourgeois conformity was just preparing me for this moment. i'm still stunned at how hard it hit me. my parents never understood but sirk did, and long before i was born

I am of course, holding my left cardigan lapel with my right hand across my chest, staring absent-mindedly out the late fall windows the last of the day's light dying in the tops of the trees first and then descending sobbing uncontrollably at what has been lost forever and what shall never be but what is not yet and what is not yet dreamt as the tears fall onto my pleated circle skirt, appliqued there as diamelle constellations thats all made up until its not <3 <3 <3

God, the production design and cinematography, yes, and the withering portrait of repressive values, but sometimes I think that the artistic virtues of Sirk, of which there are many, are stressed as a means of justifying his chosen field of women's pictures, when even on a script level this is such a compelling movie, and so forcefully acted that its subtext, however key to the picture, is still the subtext under a direct swirl of emotions. It's all great, is what I'm saying. Why has it taken me so long to really dig into Sirk?

This review may contain spoilers. I can handle the truth.

88

Douglas Sirk captures gossip and high-class pettiness as vicious language destined to tear family units out internally, sizzling in an attempt to fulfill a reorganization of status and force outsiders to succumb to the dominance of social position. Ron's apathy provides a muted tension which only blares - in stunning, succulent color - when Cary's inner circle (both familial/societal) rises to the pitch of an attack, snarling and spitting when their own exterior is affected by a loving couple separated by class. As such, the middle portion of All That Heaven Allows should be seen as a Technicolor Horror, an angry, 'in the moment' response to a genuine romance. Kicker for me is when Ned answers Cary's phone call with a normal demeanor after previously being bathed in blazing red/electric blue light after shunning his mother. Words hurt, but in Sirk's world, they're currency for stature.

The bourgeois prefers comfort to pleasure, convenience to liberty, and a pleasant temperature to the deathly inner consuming fire.
(Hermann Hesse)

Her haters were just jealous.

MELODRAMA!!!!!!
TECHNICOLOR!!!!!!

I can't wait to watch this again around Christmas time, on a cold snowy night, with a hot cup of coffee, and maybe with some toast as well.

film doesnt really get much better than this does it. just so beautifully romantic in every way the entire screen is so filled with colours and light and the core of it just makes every part of me scream with how everything just feels like a magically tragic fairytale. every character in this just feels so simultaneously real and lifelike yet everything just feels so much like a beautiful beautiful dream. a cinematic masterpiece in every single form.

There’s nothing wrong with this movie necessarily, but it’s just pretty boring. I didn’t really care about these characters but the use of color was done well especially for the time. I think the premise is interesting and it is executed well but there just wasn’t anything engaging me in the narrative.

this was so gorgeous i'm still not over it... i don't think i've fully processed how much i enjoyed it thinking i probably wouldn't... idk why i thought old films were so daunting when visually alone they're just on another plane... thinking...

My old man and me

oh God this shit had me so wrapped up in its melodrama but also at the same time i was doing my nails so i only received half of the information but damn... Goddamn

Mona, the kids, the whole gd town can catch these hands 😤

Easily top five most romantic movies ever made, and a heartbreaking artifact of classic Hollywood queer storytelling — Rock Hudson’s character implicitly queered vis a vis his otherness to Cary’s life, the melancholy of that identity sublimated through the implied unattainability of true love for these characters, and especially him. 

“And you want me to be a man?”
”Only in that one way.”

yeah, i’d let Rock Hudson trim my tree too

It’s a new favorite sold right away. When Cary began to read Thoreau's poem asking if Ron had read it and that the hostess, Alida, replied that he preferred to live it, it was settled for me I knew I wasn't going to want it to end. I loved everything. The depiction of love and longing, the commentary on the weight of convention and the social barriers, the loneliness, women aging in a patriarchal society, the beauty of nature, the poetry of life. I have never seen such colors in my life. Thanks technicolor now life seems completely bland to me. The trees, the light, autumn my favorite season in all its glory and beautiful winter landscapes, waterfalls, rivers, outdoors houses, fur coats, scarfs... It is one of the most sublime films I have seen in my life. In a nutshell, this is what I call a grand love story. Happy to regain my passion for well done melodramas

ATTHA is such a 50's romantic classic and I'm a sucker for that apparently. Additionally, the use of colour in this movie is insane and it just works so well throughout.

Watched with the Criterion commentary track 🙌

damn her kids were so rude. let your mom fuck (love) the hot tree man and keep your comments to yourself.

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺