#suts

Robert Young’s Oliver is a whole other matter. The updated story doesn’t settle all its accounts when it comes to the different social structures around and attitudes toward disabled/disfigured veterans following WWII in contrast to WWI. Apparently, this was a point of contention for contemporary moviegoers as well. That Oliver would cut and run and isolate himself didn’t seem like a believable course of action for audiences in 1945, given the expansion of services offered by the VA at the time. Compounding the issue is that the original story took place in England not New England.

The potential I see that wasn’t fully executed is that Oliver’s most pressing problem could be an internal struggle and reshaping his self image. It’s clear that Oliver won’t want for money or resources because of his disability. Yet, his fiancee rejects him and his already overbearing parents immediately shift to infantilizing him. So, needing space to deal with his trauma and his own ableism before then having to cope with society’s ableism (as reflected in his parents and fiancee) would be reasonable and understandable. Aspects of this are present in the film, with Oliver debating if his initiating a romantic relationship with Laura is selfish because he thinks he’s undesirable and knows that she will accept him (hi there, internalized ableism).

(Oliver would be even better with authentic casting, although that wouldn’t have been feasible for this role at the time. It would be today of course. And, as an FYI, authentic casting would not have been a new concept by 1945.)

All told, what really puts me off here is how Oliver’s disfigurement is presented across the film. His face is often lit and photographed to emphasize a monstrous quality about it. And, if The Enchanted Cottage is a story that’s meant to hearten people in his situation, making a spectacle of Oliver’s scarring undermines that majorly. This contributes to a message that the character is still human and worthy of love *in spite* of his scars. What this ends up achieving is a show of benevolent prejudice that feeds the predispositions of benevolently prejudiced viewers. If your goal is truly sympathetic representation, the statement should be that the character is a human being and their marginalizations are part of who they are and *may* be something they have to contend with, if that’s the nature of the story.

Last but not least, we have Herbert Marshall. Marshall was a real-life disabled veteran who lost his leg in WWI–though here he plays a veteran who was blinded in the war. (Note: Marshall predominantly played abled characters in his films.) On one hand, Marshall’s John has a successful career and a loving family (a sister and nephew), but he’s a desexualized saintly figure used to guide the more abled characters in their love story with schmaltzy sagacity–another already tired stereotype in fiction by 1945. Oddly, I misremembered this aspect of the film and thought that John also developed romantic feelings for Laura. In addition, the introduction of this character in the WWII update lacks some depth because there’s so little effort put into showing the differences of being a disabled vet of WWI, vs WWII.

I know I just spent a whole lot of time talking about how The Enchanted Cottage could be better, but it really is worth checking out. All this is to say that there are so many threads of a better movie that don’t all tie together. It has plenty of saving graces, including a great supporting cast of characters–especially Spring Byington as Oliver’s mother and Mildred Natwick as Mrs. Minnett, the cottage owner. There’s more heart to The Enchanted Cottage than a lot of modern romance movies that feature disabled characters despite its overwrought execution. Adequate disability representation is still something the movie industry struggles with, but progress hasn’t happened in a straight line. 

Of course, this story can’t really avoid one major representation problem: the suggestion that like belongs with like. I’m hoping I don’t have to explain in full why that’s a troubling implication, especially regarding disability and disfigurement. Regardless, The Enchanted Cottage is worth watching for its place in the history of disability representation on film and especially for Dorothy McGuire’s performance. I can’t exactly say I like the movie, but it’s one that I keep returning to because, frankly, it’s an odd one that’s endlessly interesting to think and talk about.