Leave Her to Heaven

The most disturbing aspect of Gene Tierney’s Oscar-nominated performance as Ellen in John M. Stahl’s Leave Her to Heaven is her ability to wrap psychopathy in a halo of such grace, elegance, and feminine perfection, not to mention some of the most exquisite “athleisure” outfits anyone has ever worn on a lakeshore. This refinement combined with the uniquely sadistic cruelty of her transgressions makes watching her jealousy-fueled psychological disintegration so compelling and explains how such a dark film could become Fox’s most financially successful of the 1940’s. Most of the action takes place on Tierney’s face, but barely. She’s not the typical gritty femme fatale manipulating men with her obvious exterior charms; instead, it’s the glimpses of her interiority that shock us, most notably her passive satisfaction while watching what may be the cruelest death scene in all of noir. Cornel Wilde plays her new husband Richard Hartland, whom Ellen joins at his wooded writing retreat called The Back of the Moon, a name that clearly evokes hiddenness. Stahl, however, hides nothing; on the contrary, he uses Technicolor to depict Ellen’s unspeakable acts as vividly as possible. In fact, the art direction is spellbinding: from the early encounter between Richard and Ellen inside a ravishing Art Deco train car to the luscious lakes and forests of Maine to the round, ocular courtroom windows watching over the legal proceedings.