“There’s always tomorrow,” is the type of phrase loaded with
double meaning. It can be accepted as a statement of youth, where possibility
and time feel endless. But it can also act as something sour and bitter,
referring to missed opportunities and faded dreams, as it does in Douglas
Sirks’ film There’s Always Tomorrow. Sirks made melodramas about how Eisenhower
era conformity was, as James Dean might say, tearing everyone apart. "There's always tomorrow" is the kind of deceptively hyper-optimistic phrase we might expect from a time of Leave It to Beaver deluded hopefulness and self-conception. On the
surface, Sirks was dealing with stories of heart-stringingly intense emotion, but
underneath Sirks examines people trapped and overwhelmed by doing what society
expected of them. There’s Always Tomorrow could be taken as a fascinating study
of constricted masculinity; Fred MacMurray’s Clifford Groves is a man who’s tired of
the daily grind of his job as the owner of a toy company and he feels as if his
family doesn’t appreciate him. When old friend Norma (Barbara Stanwyck) returns
into his life, old memories and feelings are stirred up; reminding him of how
much life has gotten away from him. His children believe their father is having
an affair with this old friend, which they’re mostly wrong about. Clifford
deep down knows he’s only fooling himself and that his stodgy old life is going
to keep consuming him, no matter how overwhelming his sense of ennui might be. Sometimes
there’s no tomorrow, just a lousy today.
Grade: A-
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