The Children's Hour: A Poignant Film, A Pivotal Moment in Women's History

               "Like, I don't want to be a traitor to my generation and all" (Cher Horowitz anyone?), but the 60s were just better. I'm sorry 2000s, but you're just not daring enough for me. Sure, you'll go there when it comes to portraying sex or violence on screen, but you're not prepared to plumb the emotional depths of stuff that is real. It's not only that the world cared more, said more and did more in the sixties, it's that they were unafraid to investigate with real openness topics that were taboo. One need only look at the innovation and heartrending reality displayed in films like 'Easy Rider' and 'Bonnie and Clyde." These late 60s films were as concerned with sharing a message about the state of affairs in America and openly criticizing the hypocrisy of the status quo as they were with ticket sales and box office.

          Even in the early 60s, a time when America still struggled to free itself from the lingering grasp of 1950s hyper-conservativism, films introduced groundbreaking material in movies that forced a long overdue psychological growth in American audiences. One of those films was the much heralded "The Children's Hour" from 1962. Still a product of the previous generation, this film is all smooth lines, clean language and promotion of conventional mores (in certain respects), but it puts the topic of lesbianism front and center, an extremely controversial subject for its time (and now). This film is beautifully done yes, but the cleanness of its setting, a small girls school in conservative upper-class town, and the beauty of its stars, the incomparable Audrey Hepburn and the always engaging Shirley McClaine, are all there to showcase the ugly destructiveness of bigotry in our lives. That is the overarching message; lesbianism is simply the vehicle with which to bring this intention about.

Before you get all excited that there's a lesbian film with Audrey Hepburn and Shirley McClaine, you should hold your horses. This isn't "Blue is the Warmest Color." They're not lesbians. Their characters are just as glib on the topic as the community in which they live. They are friends, best friends. They've known each other since college and live together as
the co-owners of the Wright-Dobie school, a prominent institution in their small, upper-class community. Neither is married, but Karen, Audrey's character, does have a doctor fiance that is excited to finally walk down the aisle with her at long last. He's played by James Garner who, to be honest, I've never had much to do with, but he looks nice and gives an aghast expression at the right moments so I guess he does well here.

Martha, McClaine's character, is alone, but doesn't seem to be sweating that fact as much as her over-the-hill aunt does. Miriam Hopkins plays Aunt Mortar, the school's drama coach and resident ding-bat. She's adequate as a Norma Desmond drama queen with shades of Annie's Miss Hannigan. One expects a moth to fly out of her flea-bitten fox stole any minute. Everyone is happy with their situation until an ugly (I'm sorry, but this little actress is very ugly) little girl spreads a rumor about Ms. Dobie and Ms. Wright that threatens not only the women's livelihood, but also the sanctity of their very lives. The rumor spreads quickly (some might say unrealistically so) through the town and causes undue destruction to their reputations. The women fight against this happening in court and in their personal lives, the resulting impact brings the women and the entire town to an unexpected place.

The film is a remake of an earlier film adaption of a famed stage play by the indomitable Lillian Hellman. The play, written and performed in the twenties, dealt even more openly with the subject of lesbianism than does this film which isn't surprising. Though the restlessness of the 60s demanded new ideas be presented to the public in media, the anxiousness of the 50s prevented this film from addressing it in a straightforward way. 

William Wyler, the director of this and the 1930s film version
, chooses to soften the controversy of its subject  by casting flawless actresses and shooting the film as a classic high-level drama. Emotions run high, but hairs do not come out of place. Her mind may be disturbed, but there is never a wrinkle on Audrey's gown. And of course the word 'lesbian' is never uttered. Whenever its left to the actors to describe the alleged activity between Ms. Dobie and Ms. Wright, euphemisms so innocuous are used that at times it feels like parents explaining sex to an 11-year-old. The only time that what they are accused of is spelled out is when, tired of the diverting language, Garner's character forces Karen to tell him what everyone is so upset over. She looks up at him, doe eyes wide with almost child-like amazement, and says "They think that Martha and I are lovers." This line provides the characters as well as the audience with a much needed release. Wyler designed it so that all of the tension gathers from the moment the little girl speaks to her grandmother, until now. The tension builds again from this moment until the most lauded scene of the movie when Martha confesses.

In the climax, Martha confesses to Karen in a long, breathless stammering soliloquy that is at once heart breaking and cathartic. "I have loved you the way they said!" These words leave her with a rush of energy like that of water bursting from a fireman's hose. Deep, heartfelt and violently honest, In this scene she embodies the tortuous responsibility we all have to admit to ourselves the terrible truth of who we are.

Besides Barbara Stanwyck, there is no actress that I adore more than Audrey Hepburn. Her many graces, talents and virtues have been discussed at length for decades so I won't extol them here. She impresses me in this film not only with the stoic gravity of her performance, but with her ability to consciously take a step back and give McClaine the center of attention. Recognizing that the demands as an actress for Shirley are far greater than what is asked of her, she gives McClaine the room that she needs to climb to the emotional heights required of her role.

The venerable Fay Bainter plays the little girl's grandmother, the one who initially believes the rumor and spreads it through town. Old, stodgy and feigning virtues that she doesn't really have, The grandmother represents American society of the time. Sheltered by a lack of curiosity and a culturally cultivated fear of difference, she describes the two as "unnatural" and dramatically treats them as outcasts under the guise of protecting the young. Once events come to pass, she shows her humility by admitting that she was wrong. This is how America would like to think it would be; Understanding and apologetic.

But Wyler does not let her get away with her ignorance. The final scene, with Karen walking away from the town and even her fiance is a telling moment in cinema history. In the past there would be only one of two ways for this story to end for Audrey's character: death or assimilation. Karen would have to either trip and fall dead or marry James Garner and get over it. Walking away from the town, alone and strong,visually legitimized a whole new choice for women in film and in society. It's not as though this is the first time this has happened in film (The Third Man shows a similar ending), but arguably it is the first time in American cinema that such an iconic actress is used to make such a subversive point. I don't have to accept the way things are, she seems to say, I can go it alone and create a new reality. And that's what women did during the 60s and the 70s. Created new paths by refusing to accept the old ones.

In January of 2011 a theater revival of The Children's Hour staring Keira Knightley and Elizabeth Moss came on the Comedy Theater of London to excellent reviews. It's a testament to the far reaching impact of this story that artists are still choosing to tell it. This film no doubt holds back much more than this modern interpretation does, but  in either respect the message is clear: love is a dynamite, but hatred is the flame that lights it
.