A private school for young girls is scandalized when one spiteful student, Mary Tilford, accuses the two young women who run the school of having a lesbian relationship.
The Children’s Hour adorns the innocence of youth to manipulate the mature through increasingly captivating fabrications. The Wright-Dobie School for Girls, a private school operated by mutual friends and former classmates Karen and Martha. A secluded establishment of education where youthful female individuals are raised to become proficiently independent women against the masculinity of 60s America. Elocution above all else. The limited teaching space and claustrophobic educational methods inciting wealthy families to send their spoiled conniving children to this particular abode. One such child is Mary, an overindulged bully whom supplies fabrications to wriggle her way out of trouble. After being uncovered, she is consequently punished through the removal of her privileges. Enraged, she rampantly returns home to her grandmother and eagerly twists a rumour that accuses school owners Karen and Martha as lesbian lovers, despite the former being engaged to a reputable obstetrician. The grandmother’s lavished influence tarnishes the school’s reputation, ultimately obliterating the lives of two innocent individuals whom have apparently participated in the ultimate sin of homosexuality.
Wyler’s second dramatic adaptation of Hellman’s ‘34 Broadway production, in which the slightest mention of homosexuality on stage was deemed illegal at the time, granted the director an opportunity to fully embellish the central fabricated love story. His first adaptation, ‘36’s ‘These Three’, was forced to alter the lie to revolve around adultery instead of homosexuality, given the Hays Code would never permit lesbianism on screen. Fortunately the freedom of speech in art had been liberalised, allowing screenwriter Hayes to restore the original intent of the falsehood. Despite various scenes being cut, with Wyler concerned about the critical reaction, the bulk of the alleged homosexuality and the resulting societal abandonment were captured beautifully with adequate sensitivity regarding the subject matter. The primary focus of Hellman’s story is the unlimited capabilities that children have over adults. Their divine irreproachable conduct transforming them as conduits for false allegations, with the tainted parents unable to withdraw their stance. One menial lie has the omnipotence to devastate others. Children are unable to see the repercussions of such actions, enlisting a sensitively dangerous aura. Hayes undoubtedly convinces, with Balkin’s ostentatious exaggerative stares swiftly manipulating all those who stare back. Her virginal persona perfectly inducing agitation when predicting the inevitable consequences of her actions.
Yet beneath the manipulative fabrications is a tale that corresponds to societal segregation. The incredulity of homosexuality, despite being just allegations, and how devout Christian suburban communities are meteoric to neglect such sexual orientation. A perpetuation of reality. Hayes, boasting the plot with intoxicating dialogue exchanges that manifests power amongst the powerless, clearly understood this LGBT issue by offering a palpably emotional third act that attempts to allow assured heterosexuality to dissuade homosexual postulations. Yet, the alleged sexual orientation was never discussed amongst the cast and crew. Almost as forbidden in reality as it was theatrically, evidently a poignant significance in LGBT cinema.
The outstanding performances from both Hepburn and MacLaine bring forth substantial depth to the pivotal chemistry of the leading characters. The former sensitively projecting emotional fragility beneath her posture of elegance, but it’s the latter’s performance equaling that by vocally commanding every scene with the rich ferocity of a hurricane. What a performance! Incredible. The two complement each other extraordinarily, preventing this feature from falling into the realms of melodrama.
Wyler’s direction significantly imitates a stage production, with actor and set positions resembling a clinical aesthetic. Such as MacLaine or Hepburn effortlessly turning away when their dialogue had been completed, or Planer’s static cinematography encompassing all actors in the same frame without experimenting with motion. For that, it does lose a cinematic quality that would’ve enhanced the muted drama had it been less rehearsed and more personable. The courtroom scenario would also have been a substantial addition to the story, offering a required completeness.
The Children’s Hour’s technicalities may be somewhat stilted, however the societal issues beings raised, that of LGBT dissociation and the fostering of narcissism through youthful fabrications, create pivotal moments of drama that operate concurrently. Accompanied by outstandingly emotive performances and a screenplay that seamlessly connects these characters, Wyler’s second adaptation provides much scintillating justice for the true nature of Hellman’s source material. “We’ve cleaned your house”.