The Cold War period after World War II was marked by growing tensions between the United States and the communist Soviet Union. President Truman pursued a policy of “containment” to counter communist aggression and destabilization around the world. The policy included supporting West Germany against Soviet threats, leading the Berlin Airlift to supply West Berlin amid a Soviet blockade, and committing U.S. troops to the Korean War to stop communist advances on the Korean peninsula. At home, fears of communist subversion led to “McCarthyism” and witch hunts for suspected communists, as well as the rise of fiercely anti-communist groups like the John Birch Society. The broader Cold War context of containing communism abroad shaped domestic culture as well. The notion of “domestic containment” took hold, emphasizing traditional gender roles, nuclear family stability, and suburban home life as bulwarks against subversion and moral decay.
The film Far From Heaven explores the fragility of 1950s domestic containment through the unraveling suburban family life of Cathy and Frank Whitaker in 1957 Hartford, Connecticut. Despite material comforts, racial and sexual tensions simmer beneath the surface. Frank struggles secretly with homosexuality, frequenting gay bars and engaging in anonymous encounters. When Cathy discovers this, it upends their seemingly perfect marriage (Haynes, 2002). Desperate to restore domestic stability and his masculine role as provider, Frank pursues alcohol abuse and psychotherapy. Cathy seeks solace in companionship with Raymond, the Whitaker’s black gardener. Their interracial friendship blossoms into an emotional intimacy that defies social taboos. However, they face scorn and threats trying to nurture this romance in a hostile Jim Crow social environment. The compound layers of sexual and racial “containment” ultimately force Raymond and Cathy apart, as well as permanently rupturing the facade of the Whitaker family.
The lush, vivid cinematography in Far From Heaven uses lighting, colors, and camera movement to heighten the melodrama and underscore symbolic themes. The autumnal palette darkens as crises mount. Frank descends into shadowy gay bars and a twilit wooded cruising area, reflecting his inner turmoil and shame. In contrast, scenes with Cathy and Raymond exude warmth and vibrancy, as when autumn leaves swirl around them during a stroll or sunlight illuminates their art museum visit. Camera tracking shots follow characters intently, then linger on faces registering silent anguish (Haynes, 2002). Costumes denote social expectations – Cathy’s dresses and aprons reflecting domestic femininity, Frank’s suits as executive breadwinner, Raymond’s gardening whites marking manual labor. The exterior of the Whitaker home glows impeccably, its interior replete with modern conveniences. Yet ugliness intrudes into this suburban perfection.
The stability of the Whitaker family fractures under multiple stresses. Frank’s furtive homosexuality embroils him in a secretive demimonde at odds with his executive persona. Unable to fulfill marital expectations, he precipitously suggests adopting a child to revive their domestic bliss. Cathy tries rallying to this idea, before discovering Frank’s gay encounters. Their shared world disintegrates. Frank plunges into alcoholism and fleeting liaisons, even while both pursue counseling to “cure” him. Cathy’s abandonment leaves her emotionally adrift. Class tensions surface as she perceives her society friends as judgmental and insensitive regarding marital woes. Raymond provides empathetic company during this turmoil. Worldly and artistic, he recalls for Cathy an earlier passion for painting. Their rapport evolves into affectionate love. Yet this oasis, apart from suburban strife, remains shadowed by racial inequality. Intimidation quickly encircles them. When Raymond escorts Cathy to a black jazz club, she draws hostile stares as a white interloper. At an art museum, a guard upbraids Raymond for standing too close to a white patron examining paintings. Undeterred, they later kiss in the Whitaker garden, only to have Frank’s daughter witness and misunderstand this embrace. Soon, recriminations rain down. Cathy’s “scandalous” behavior sparks gossip among friends. Frank takes refuge in righteous anger over her relationship with a black man, leveraging this to avoid scrutiny of his own transgressions. Raymond’s daughter absorbs schoolyard taunts about her father consorting with a white woman.
Under this pressure, the already precarious relationship between Cathy and Raymond falters. Both care deeply, yet the racism pervading northern society in the 1950s circumscribes their choices. After hostile reactions at the art museum and jazz club, Raymond concludes they must stop seeing each other (Haynes, 2002). Cathy proposes fleeing together to the anonymity of large cities farther north, but Raymond knows such escapes rarely succeed. Their best hope is surviving with dignity intact. In a poignant parting scene, they profess love but resign themselves to separation.
The conclusion suggests how containment further encloses key characters. Frank agrees to enduring secrecy in exchange for avoiding public exposure of his homosexuality. Abandoning introspection, he compartmentalizes his dual existence. Cathy inhabits the hollowed-out shell of domestic propriety. She and Frank slowly reconnect, yet temptation lurks. For Raymond, there is no escape. He must endure racist environments as an inherent condition of his life. Like his solitary cigarette by the greenhouse, he remains isolated.
The story of Mildred and Richard Loving reinforces the formidable barriers facing interracial couples in the 1950s-60s. Their marriage violated Virginia’s anti-miscegenation laws. Forced into exile in Washington D.C. to evade prosecution, the Lovings eventually sued to overturn these laws. In a 1967 landmark decision, Loving v. Virginia, the Supreme Court invalidated state prohibitions on interracial marriage (Loving v. Virginia, 1967). Unlike Cathy and Raymond, the Lovings persevered together against daunting legal and social hostility. Yet it required epic struggle and sacrifice. Most interracial couples lacked the resources and fortitude to challenge such ingrained racism.
In the NPR podcast, the black female narrator similarly concludes that the stresses inherent in interracial relationships with whites who minimize or deny the enduring impact of racism are too emotionally taxing. Her white suitor Jerry seems sympathetic, but remains obtuse about racial injustice. This exhausted her already raw from the disconnect with her ex-husband regarding these issues. She sums it up with James Baldwin’s quote that “people who shut their eyes to reality simply invite their own destruction” (NPR, 2019). Her self-preservation compelled moving on from Jerry.
The short New York Times article indicates some progress but also ongoing strains for mixed-race couples since Loving v. Virginia. One elderly couple who waited until the anti-miscegenation laws were overturned to marry report feeling “blessed that we are not unusual anymore” after facing scandals and epithets in the 1950s. But slights and suspicions persist. One black husband describes still being stopped by police on suspicion of driving a stolen car due to racial profiling. Their biracial grandson displays his license plate “1BLACKMEX” to confront lingering prejudice (Medina, 2017). Complete acceptance remains elusive.
In total, these sources underline that Cold War imperatives to project an image of stable family life and social order weighed heavily on individuals like Cathy and Frank. Their inability to conform to constraining norms of gender, sexuality, and racial hierarchy exacted painful costs. Healing divisions and expanding the bounds of belonging take continual vigilance, as ongoing struggles for marriage equality and racial justice attest. The facade of the perfect nuclear family in many 1950s suburbs concealed much suffering and exclusion.
References
Haynes, T. (Director). (2002). Far from Heaven [Film]. Focus Features.
Loving v. Virginia, 388 U.S. 1 (1967). https://www.oyez.org/cases/1966/395
Medina, J. (2017, June 11). ‘We Are Not Unusual Anymore’: 50 Years of Mixed-Race Marriage in U.S. The https://www.nytimes.com/2017/06/11/us/mixed-race-marriage-loving-decision-anniversary.html
NPR. (2019, April 4). Race Wasn’t An Issue To Him, Which Was An Issue To Me [Audio podcast episode]. In Modern Love. https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/race-wasnt-an-issue-to-him-which-was-an-issue-to/id1065559535?i=1000435175620
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