# Postman Always Rings Twice, The (1946)

### reviewed by
James Sanford

    THE POSTMAN ALWAYS RINGS TWICE (MGM)
    Directed by Tay Garnett

Considered smutty back in the days when novels could still be "banned in Boston," "The Postman Always Rings Twice" nevertheless became a best-seller upon publication in 1934. It was still a hot potato over a decade later when MGM decided to film it, and considerable laundering of the book's language and sexual content were required before "Postman" could withstand the scrutiny of the censors.

Despite the whitewash, the John Garfield/Lana Turner version is far superior to the 1981 Jack Nicholson/Jessica Lange remake, which, despite being more faithful to Cain, is a dreary slog with only Lange's striking performance to recommend it. In contrast, Garfield and Turner electrify; there's no nudity or on-screen sex in the picture, yet the erotic charge between these two is incredibly potent. Moving at an almost breathless pace, "Postman" sends wanderer Frank Chambers (Garfield) into the orbit of heavenly body Cora Smith (Turner), the dissatisfied wife of Nick (Cecil Kellaway), owner of the Twin Oaks Lunch Room. Frank is hired as a jack-of-all-trades and almost instantly sets about giving Cora a helping hand in her plans to turn the none-too-busy restaurant into a major attraction. A major attraction also develops between the two, and it isn't long before they're taking moonlit swims together and cooking up plans to get rid of congenial lush Nick.

Despite a ludicrous score that underlines each plot twist with screaming strings, "Postman" remains an amazing piece of work, certainly the finest film ever turned out by Tay Garnett, a workman-like director who made scores of undistinguished pictures during his 40-year career. Garnett gives Turner one of the most memorable entrances in film history: She's introduced as the camera pans up from her white shoes to her magnificent legs to her clinging white outfit, crowned by a white turban. Platinum blonde Cora's wardrobe becomes the movie's most subtle joke -- almost everything is white, including her beret and her bathing suit! Turner, never the most versatile of actresses, is startlingly alive here; as a star who was celebrated more for her figure than for her talent, perhaps she could relate to the role of a young woman who feels her light is being hidden underneath the bushel of a confining marriage. When Cora becomes infuriated, as in the scene in which Frank talks about looking for bargains and Cora hisses "you won't find anything cheap here," that fire shoots out, and Turner's eyes could burn holes in the screen.

As the happy-go-lucky Frank, Garfield is equally arresting. He understood -- as Nicholson did not -- that in order for the audience to identify with Frank, he must come off as an everyday guy pulled by fate into an inescapable whirlpool of lust and paranoia. James Sanford

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