Great drama comes from the human soul, and sometimes mankind can't bear to see itself so darkly portrayed. That's what release is supposed to heal, whether it be booze, sex, religion or power. We would either implode or explode if we couldn't allow ourselves to find a way out for a little bit of our stressful lives. That's what the more permissive novels, plays and movies did to show us that it was alright to be flawed, 'cause perfection really is a denial of what truly makes us tick.
The heart and soul of this story as it was with domestic dramas is the long suffering wife and mother, played here with a deeply pained soul by the versatile Shirley Booth. She's determined to keep this blue collar family, from the insecure Shirley MacLaine, ambitious but confused Earl Holliman and the introverted Clint Kimbrough. Will she be able to accept and deal with the infidelity of husband Anthony Quinn who is caught in a horrible rut and can't seem to escape.
Don't expect the wife and mother here to be like those '50s and '60s TV moms, as Booth's Alma is terribly flawed herself in spite of her supposed unconditional love. She's both grasping and naive, in denial yet dominant. Yet, she's very human and lovable even with all those flaws. When pal Fran (a terrific Eileen Heckart) is around, she really does allow herself to come out of her shell if what she has obviously been brainwashed to think what a wife and mother must be. It's obvious that these two need some space, and both Booth and Quinn really bring depth to their characters.
You can see a lot of elements from other serious dramas of the day. Writers like Hemingway, Inge, O'Neill, Williams and Faulkner got past the shallowness of censorship and the influences of religious organizations to write about the dark side of life. This makes no apologies for the dark souls of the lead characters, and not so surprising twists come out that being a deeper meaning to why families really struggle to not only make ends meet but to come out of life without hating each other in the process.
The heart and soul of this story as it was with domestic dramas is the long suffering wife and mother, played here with a deeply pained soul by the versatile Shirley Booth. She's determined to keep this blue collar family, from the insecure Shirley MacLaine, ambitious but confused Earl Holliman and the introverted Clint Kimbrough. Will she be able to accept and deal with the infidelity of husband Anthony Quinn who is caught in a horrible rut and can't seem to escape.
Don't expect the wife and mother here to be like those '50s and '60s TV moms, as Booth's Alma is terribly flawed herself in spite of her supposed unconditional love. She's both grasping and naive, in denial yet dominant. Yet, she's very human and lovable even with all those flaws. When pal Fran (a terrific Eileen Heckart) is around, she really does allow herself to come out of her shell if what she has obviously been brainwashed to think what a wife and mother must be. It's obvious that these two need some space, and both Booth and Quinn really bring depth to their characters.
You can see a lot of elements from other serious dramas of the day. Writers like Hemingway, Inge, O'Neill, Williams and Faulkner got past the shallowness of censorship and the influences of religious organizations to write about the dark side of life. This makes no apologies for the dark souls of the lead characters, and not so surprising twists come out that being a deeper meaning to why families really struggle to not only make ends meet but to come out of life without hating each other in the process.