Film of the Week: Portrait of Jennie, 1948

Since time began man has looked into the awesome reaches of infinity and asked the eternal question: What is time? What is life? What is space? What is death? Through a hundred civilizations, philosophers and scientists have come together with answers, but the bewilderment remains... Science tells us that nothing ever dies but only changes, that time itself does not pass but curves around us, and that the past and the future are together at our side for ever. Out of the shadows of knowledge, and out of a painting that hung on a museum wall, comes our story, the truth of which lies not on our screen but in your hearts.

--Introduction to Portrait of Jennie

Eben Adams is down on his luck. Though a talented painter, he can’t seem to sell anything. Perhaps it’s because everything he paints—while technically superior—is lacking passion, devoid of spirit and inspiration. At least that’s what Miss Spinney at the art gallery thinks. For some reason, she’s taken a liking to Eben. Perhaps it’s because he was the first person to compliment her in many years. Or, perhaps it was simply because she knew he was different.

One cold day, Eben wandered Central Park—frigid lawns laid out before him as if painted on a canvas. Over the horizon comes a girl—a strange little girl, different, enchanting. She introduced herself as Jennie Appleton. She’s gone as quickly as she came. The memory of the girl clings to Eben, and, so, he draws her. Eben always keeps an eye open for Jennie. When he does see her, she always seems to have changed, to have grown—as if overnight. She tells Eben that her parents were killed during their high wire act. But, when Eben researches this fact, he finds that the accident happened decades earlier—not just that day as Jennie had described.

Who or what was Jennie? Eben became consumed by her. He decided to paint her portrait. Again, she seemed to have grown-up in just a few days. She was a woman. Eben knew he had fallen in love with her. Yet, could they be together? And, why was Jennie so upset by his paintings of Land’s End Lighthouse?

This is the premise of the 1948 David O. Selznick picture, Portrait of Jennie. When this film--based on the novella by Robert Nathan--was initially purchased, there was talk of shooting it over a period of years with Shirley Temple as Jennie. Shooting in this manner would allow “Jennie” to age naturally. Selznick wasn’t wild about the idea. He was, however, wild about his wife, Jennifer Jones, and quite eager to further her career. Jones was cast as Jennie and a variety of theater tricks and camera angles were employed to create the illusion of Jennie’s aging. For Eben, Selznick cast the brilliant Joseph Cotton. An equally inspired bit of casting was Ethel Barrymore as Miss Spinney—Eben’s friend and supporter.

Production was overripe with problems, and, typical of his nature Selznick had his hand in all of them. He was not pleased with the film—finding it slow and vague. Fantasy is a difficult genre, Selznick found. And, so, he rewrote the script. In fact, the script was rewritten five times.

Director William Dieterle gives us some truly stunning visuals—arranging compositions as if they were paintings straight from Eben’s studio. A filter was used to give introductory shots the look of canvas, and Dieterle used mists and fogs to great advantage. While the film was predominately shot in black and white, the final shots are in full color and the scenes leading up to the dramatic ending were filmed on a special film stock which colors everything an ominous sea-green.

Set against Dimitri Tiomkin’s appropriately haunting score, Portrait of Jennie is a stirringly beautiful and fascinating film. It is doubtlessly Jennifer Jones’ finest performance, and Joseph Cotton is at his best. While Selznick didn’t enjoy making this film, the result was one of his top three masterpieces.