Far from Heaven

Throughout Far From Heaven, one of the central conflicts faced by the main protagonist Cathy Whitaker comes from her attraction towards Raymond Deagan, the son of her recently deceased gardener, and how it develops in the face of her estrangement from her husband, Frank Whitaker, as he deals with his developing homosexual tendencies.[6] Set in the fall of 1957 in Hartford, Connecticut, the racial tensions emblematic of the era are reflected right away in the first scene Raymond makes an appearance, tending to his father's former duties as the Whitaker's gardener.[4] While Cathy is being interviewed for a society circular in her living room, she notices Raymond mulling around in her yard, and immediately becomes frightened, uneasy by the prospect of an unfamiliar black man. While her interviewer, Mrs. Leacock, suggests calling the police, Cathy walks outside to confront him and learns the circumstances of the situation and how he came to be there, after which she apologizes for her assumptions and demonstrates a capacity to see beyond his race and show sympathy for his father's recent passing. This is an action that is observed closely by Mrs. Leacock through the window, and ultimately makes its way into her article profiling Cathy and her "kindness to negroes".[6]

Presenting this particular issue so early on in the film, there is a clear contrast drawn between Hartford's suburban idyllic autumnal setting and the reality of the social order that dominates the everyday life of the Whitakers and the people in their lives.[4] As Frank's difficulties continue to develop, Cathy finds great solace in befriending Raymond and ultimately comes to develop feelings for him as a result.[6] These feelings, however, prove to be a huge social taboo in this time period, and are met with anger and prejudice in affluent New England. With the developing historical events of the Little Rock Crisis serving as the contextual backdrop to the struggle in Far From Heaven, it is in this struggle that one of the central themes of the film comes to the forefront, and is continually reintroduced through segregational policies of the era. Over the course of the film, we observe Cathy and Raymond's interactions being highly scrutinized by the different members of their own respective communities, as well as examples of Jim Crow-like practices that were commonplace during this era, such as being unable to sit next to each other at a local lunch counter.[6] Frank and Cathy's vacation to Miami exemplifies this when a young African-American boy jumps into the hotel pool where Cathy and Frank are vacationing. Not only is the boy swiftly removed from the pool, but the white guests who were swimming at the time rapidly exit the pool area in disgust, mortified that the water and surrounding area had been shared, and therefore tainted, by a black person.[4][6]

Rebecca Sherr wrote in her essay "(Not) queering "white vision" in Far from Heaven and Transamerica":

Implicitly, this scenario illustrates white Americans' fear of black bodies, bodies that for whites symbolize "contamination"; and "contamination" in turn signifies the underlying fear of miscegenation. The camera moves between Cathy's point-of-view looking out at the pool, and then the camera turns and focuses directly on Cathy so that she becomes the object of the gaze. Her eyes remain half-hidden behind sunglasses, which act as shield and mirror. As the unfolding action is miniaturized and reflected—indeed, doubled—on Cathy’s lenses, the message is that this drama turns back on Cathy, illustrating in a rather didactic manner the futility of her desire for Raymond, a black man. The emphasis on parenting here, with a black father and white mother "saving" and disciplining their respective children, further emphasizes the undercurrent of segregation as policing the boundaries of racial reproduction.[4]

Frank Whitaker's burgeoning homosexuality is no doubt one of the most pivotal thematic story elements within Far From Heaven, as it sets in motion a series of events in the film that ultimately culminate in not only the estrangement of his wife, but also the inevitable failure of his marriage. Characterized as the reliable husband, the successful hardworking businessman, the charming spouse, and the devoted father, he is idealized in a way that assigns him so many demanding roles, it is almost as if he is driven to pursue his homosexual tendencies as a means to escape his taxing everyday life and release his burden and frustration.[6] We witness this early on in the film in his office at Magnatech when lunch meetings and dinner meetings pile up in his schedule, as portfolio season is well underway and his New York office continues to push up deadlines. Much like Cathy, Frank falls short of his exalted reputation, and as he is exploring Hartford one evening, avoiding returning home by taking in a movie, he soon finds himself walking the streets, delving further into the seedy underbelly of Hartford nightlife, where he hopes to find what he is looking for. It is when he notices what appear to be two gay men walking into a basement bar that he finally acts on his impulses and begins the slippery slope of self gratification that ultimately comes to dominate his lifestyle.[6] It is through these humble beginnings that we come to explore with Frank the subversive and hushed nature cast upon the gay community during this time period.[5]

Mitra Moin writes in her essay, "Far From Heaven and Carol: Channeling 1950s Melodrama":

The 1950s is a time of constraining expectations; everyone is expected to lead perfect suburban lives, and those that deviate are socially condemned. Haynes sets this up in Far From Heaven, where Cathy appears to have a model life: two children, a successful husband, and a suburban home. She is a typical housewife, admired by others: "Women just like yourself, with families and homes to keep up." This is dismantled in the premise, when Cathy receives a call from the police station regarding her husband. Beauty and perfection, here, are forms of oppression. The props are also important to observe as symbols of the 1950s: The television manifests the suburban prosperity that characterizes the time period. Cathy must adhere to the narrow and confining gender roles of the 1950s, just as Frank must suppress his homosexual desires. These characters, disillusioned in their seemingly flawless worlds, ultimately find these symbols as oppressive.[6]

Likewise, Cathy, who finds an escape through her relationship with Raymond, begins to act on her impulses as well, taking us further into the bigoted, prejudiced nature of upper class Hartford society. When Cathy, in the aftermath of Eleanor observing the physical abuse Frank has inflicted upon her, is discovered crying in her yard by Raymond, their relationship becomes even closer, and he extends to her an invitation for a day in the country in an effort to take her mind off her worries, which she ultimately accepts. This invitation, however, sets in motion a series of events that culminates in a romantic evening between the two, which is inadvertently observed by Mona Lauder, a woman whose gossip is notorious for spreading like wildfire. It is through Mona's prejudiced tittle-tattle that Cathy soon finds herself with her reputation besmirched, as even her friends and loved ones are disgusted with her behavior. Frank's revelation of his affair to Cathy, which effectively ends their marriage, is mirrored when Cathy reveals her attraction for Raymond to Eleanor and is summarily rejected, exposing the subtle dichotomy between their respective vices. As Rebecca Sherr notes in her essay:

The "mirroring" technique occurs several times and is a visual clue as to the parallels the film draws between interracial romance and homosexuality. [...] The two instances of "coming out" in Far from Heaven produce different narrative trajectories, and the mediating factor of racial difference accounts for these divergent outcomes. This difference in outcome is based in the notion of visibility—racial difference cannot usually be hidden. The film communicates that heterosexual, interracial desire could, in a sense, be seen as even more "queer" than homosexuality, at least in the context of queerness as visible deviance.[4]

Although Cathy finds herself isolated at the end of the film, a divorcée fallen from grace who now devotes her life to her children and her volunteer work for organizations such as the NAACP, she still possesses feelings for Raymond that, though now held back, dominate the subtext of the ending of the film, without either character having to utter a single word in their silent, tear-wrenching farewell.[6] Todd McGowen observes of both Cathy and Frank in "Relocating Our Enjoyment of the 1950s: The Politics of Fantasy in Far From Heaven": "The point here is not that they enjoy in spite of the widespread disapproval; it is instead that this disapproval enables and fuels their enjoyment. Their time together has the significance it does precisely because the social prohibition does not permit it."[5]

According to Haynes' director's commentary, recorded for the DVD-release of Far from Heaven, the film was made in the style of many 1950s films, notably those of Douglas Sirk. Haynes created color palettes for every scene in the film, and was careful and particular in his choices. He emphasized experience with color in such scenes as one in which Cathy, Eleanor, and their friends are all dressed in reds, oranges, yellows, browns, and greens, and also played with the color green by using it to light forbidden and mysterious scenes. This effect was employed both in the scene in which Frank visits a gay bar and when Cathy goes to the restaurant in a predominantly black neighborhood.[9]

Blue is often used in the film to represent Frank and Cathy's failing marriage, as in the scene in which Cathy receives a phone call from the Hartford police concerning Frank and his "loitering" and, later, when Frank and Cathy leave the psychiatrist's office after their first visit to try to curb Frank's homosexual tendencies. It is in the second of these moments that the only profanity in the entire film is used, by Frank towards Cathy, further demonstrating the coldness and bitterness he feels towards his wife, and perfectly in sync with the color palette that envelops them during this scene.[7]

Scott Higgins writes in "Orange and Blue, Desire and Loss: The Colour Score in Far From Heaven":

Generally, we can isolate two strategies of colour design in Far from Heaven. On one hand, Haynes makes straightforward and adroit use of classical convention in a fairly subtle and un-ironic way. On the other hand, moments of strong stylisation reveal a self-consciousness of form that announces its artifice. The film's articulation of an autumnal orange motif exemplifies how Haynes reawakens dormant Hollywood conventions in a rather delicate expressive manner. The more overt manipulation of coloured lighting, however, offers a test case. Red and green lighting broadcasts its artifice and its reference to Sirk, activating an awareness of form that Haynes nonetheless manages to align with our sympathy for his characters. In his extensive use of blue light, though, Haynes exploits conventional motivations and the melodrama's generic tendency towards stylisation to exact a sincere and direct affective charge from colour temperature, in much the way filmmakers had done between the late 1930s and 1960s. His project of self-conscious reference may, in fact, open room for Haynes to renew the classical convention in an emotionally direct way. It is this play between citation and invocation of colour scoring that makes Far From Heaven so compelling.[7]

In addition to the color scheme, Haynes used shots and angles appropriate to Sirk's films and era, and the script employs over-the-top, melodramatic dialogue. In driving scenes, the filmmakers employed the rear projection process commonly used in older films, even reusing a plate from Sirk's Written on the Wind for one shot of Cathy driving to her daughter's ballet recital.[9] Cinematographer Edward Lachman helped created the appropriate "look" by using the same types of lighting techniques, lighting equipment, and lens filters that would have been used to film a melodrama in the 1950s, and Elmer Bernstein's score is reminiscent of those he had composed 40 and 50 years earlier. Also, supervising sound editor Kelley Baker used Foley to make the sounds of things in the film such as rustling clothes and footsteps more prominent in a way similar to films from the 1950s.[9]

In the director's commentary, Haynes noted that he was influenced by Rainer Werner Fassbinder's film Ali: Fear Eats the Soul.[9] Both films portray feelings of alienation and awkwardness, which is conveyed by, for example, sometimes lingering on a character for a few seconds longer than is comfortable for the viewer before cutting to the next scene.[9]

Theatrical songwriting team Scott Frankel and Michael Korie worked with Richard Greenberg on an Off Broadway-bound musical adaptation. The musical opened at Playwrights Horizons in Spring of 2013. Kelli O'Hara starred in the central role.[18]