Enjoyable semi-biography of the tempestuous president Andrew Jackson (Heston) seen through the eyes of his wife, Rachel (Hayward).
We learn that Jackson is proud, a man of honor, that he falls in love with Rachel on a riverboat, marries her while she's still married to someone else, defends her name violently, brings her an abandoned Indian baby when she's unable to have her own, smokes a pipe, dislikes politics, is away from home often, has a gentle heart, and is easily manipulated by his understanding wife, to whom he remains devoted throughout his life.
In between, in a brief and offhand way, we learn that he becomes Attorney General of Tennessee, commands the state militia, fights in the Creek war, is appointed a General in the Army, beats the British at the Battle of New Orleans (after a peace treaty had already been signed, not mentioned), and is elected president. We don't get to see any of this, because the story is about Rachel and her joys and travails.
She suffers one tragedy after another. A brother is killed by Indians, her adopted Indian baby dies, she's insulted in public and called a prostitute -- which seems almost tame by comparison with today's name calling. Finally she collapses from a nameless illness in a muddy street. Every few minutes, Rachel seems to collapse into someone's arms and sob.
I just realized something. I clicked the spoiler alert box because I didn't want to reveal the fact that Andrew Jackson became president of the United States of America. In the back of my mind was the fact that a recent poll of high school students found that the majority couldn't place the American Civil War in its correct half century. And a substantial number didn't know which countries were on which side in World War II -- many believed that we and the Germans fought the Russians. Something is warped. Either our society's shared data base is dangerously eroded or I need a frontal lobotomy. Somebody hand me that garden trowel.
If you're going to fulfill a feminine fantasy, Charlton Heston as the devoted Andrew Jackson will do just fine. He's tall, handsome, baritoned, and he rises in his station from rough-hewn woodsman to master of a huge Southern-plantation style mansion called The Hermitage in Tennessee. He's masterful and terribly wealthy, but dumb enough to be guided by a clever and loyal wife. Rachel narrates the film until she dies of that nameless disease then, for the last few minutes, Heston's sonorous voice takes over as he assumes the office of president. Not that he gives us any hint of his politics. His few sentences are all about his gummy memories of the beautiful Rachel.
Susan Hayward is pretty good as Rachel, her New York accent notwithstanding. Heston, I don't believe, had yet to develop his acting chops. In the violent scenes he grimaces toothfully, as if smiling, in order to project a strenuous effort. However, he certainly LOOKS enough like Andrew Jackson, if the picture on the paper currency is accurate. He was to play Jackson again. Henry Levin's direction is pedestrian but gets the job done.
It's really an old-fashioned movie. Jackson is a paragon and Rachel is his equal. I don't think they'd make a biopic of ANYBODY today without revealing some secret vices, even if they had to be fabricated. They'd give Jackson a closet full of ladies' slippers or something.
I enjoyed it though, especially because of the performances of Hayward and Heston. They seem to work well together. And there is an occasional humorous touch in the script.
We learn that Jackson is proud, a man of honor, that he falls in love with Rachel on a riverboat, marries her while she's still married to someone else, defends her name violently, brings her an abandoned Indian baby when she's unable to have her own, smokes a pipe, dislikes politics, is away from home often, has a gentle heart, and is easily manipulated by his understanding wife, to whom he remains devoted throughout his life.
In between, in a brief and offhand way, we learn that he becomes Attorney General of Tennessee, commands the state militia, fights in the Creek war, is appointed a General in the Army, beats the British at the Battle of New Orleans (after a peace treaty had already been signed, not mentioned), and is elected president. We don't get to see any of this, because the story is about Rachel and her joys and travails.
She suffers one tragedy after another. A brother is killed by Indians, her adopted Indian baby dies, she's insulted in public and called a prostitute -- which seems almost tame by comparison with today's name calling. Finally she collapses from a nameless illness in a muddy street. Every few minutes, Rachel seems to collapse into someone's arms and sob.
I just realized something. I clicked the spoiler alert box because I didn't want to reveal the fact that Andrew Jackson became president of the United States of America. In the back of my mind was the fact that a recent poll of high school students found that the majority couldn't place the American Civil War in its correct half century. And a substantial number didn't know which countries were on which side in World War II -- many believed that we and the Germans fought the Russians. Something is warped. Either our society's shared data base is dangerously eroded or I need a frontal lobotomy. Somebody hand me that garden trowel.
If you're going to fulfill a feminine fantasy, Charlton Heston as the devoted Andrew Jackson will do just fine. He's tall, handsome, baritoned, and he rises in his station from rough-hewn woodsman to master of a huge Southern-plantation style mansion called The Hermitage in Tennessee. He's masterful and terribly wealthy, but dumb enough to be guided by a clever and loyal wife. Rachel narrates the film until she dies of that nameless disease then, for the last few minutes, Heston's sonorous voice takes over as he assumes the office of president. Not that he gives us any hint of his politics. His few sentences are all about his gummy memories of the beautiful Rachel.
Susan Hayward is pretty good as Rachel, her New York accent notwithstanding. Heston, I don't believe, had yet to develop his acting chops. In the violent scenes he grimaces toothfully, as if smiling, in order to project a strenuous effort. However, he certainly LOOKS enough like Andrew Jackson, if the picture on the paper currency is accurate. He was to play Jackson again. Henry Levin's direction is pedestrian but gets the job done.
It's really an old-fashioned movie. Jackson is a paragon and Rachel is his equal. I don't think they'd make a biopic of ANYBODY today without revealing some secret vices, even if they had to be fabricated. They'd give Jackson a closet full of ladies' slippers or something.
I enjoyed it though, especially because of the performances of Hayward and Heston. They seem to work well together. And there is an occasional humorous touch in the script.