At the perfect intersection between film noir and melodrama exists a film that has somehow come to be definitive of both of them, and perhaps even more, of an entire era of filmmaking in general. Leave Her to Heaven is a strange case of a film – directed by John M. Stahl, one of the pioneering maestros of melodrama, it should technically stand as one of the most unimpeachable classics of 1940s filmmaking. However, while it has a large amount of supporters scattered throughout the generations, it seems to slowly be slipping away into obscurity, losing some of its popularity as time marches on. This could be for a number of reasons – perhaps its the fact that it has a very traditional crime plot, disguised in the form of an overwrought melodrama, which meant that audiences who signed up for one may have been disappointed to find the dominance of the other. Perhaps it the fact that, beneath its very simple exterior, there’s a tricky plot of deception and pure malice that not only sees the main character being fashioned as a hedonistic villain, but that she doesn’t quite get her comeuppance (and her fate, while grim, was entirely on her own terms). However, I’d argue that Leave Her to Heaven is a bewildering film based purely on the fact that it struggles to be placed under a single category – it samples from a range of genres, takes on a variety of conventions that may be peculiar for audiences expecting something more simple, and it has a story that was radically ahead of its time. Stahl’s entire career was based around his refusal to abide by conventions, but rather defining an entirely new set of standards from his own vision – and as arguably his most popular film (however, not necessarily his best), this is a wonderfully fascinating journey into the heart of a few conflicting genres that even the most weathered of film lover may not have expected to work in such effective symbiosis.

One of the few qualities that both film noir and traditional melodrama share is that the more simple the premises are, the more effective the final product will be. As two incredibly popular genres at the time, audiences were driven to see these films because they offered a sense of escapism, while still challenging us in a way that we feel enriched by the experience. Leave Her to Heaven works because, regardless of where it resides between the two dominant genres at a particular moment, it never comes across convoluted. Stahl was a veteran filmmaker, so it only makes sense that his work would be defined by a sense of utter ease and comfort with the material. He didn’t need to prove anything, but rather simply had the ability to craft a compelling story of a jealous woman and her various methods of ensuring that she always comes out on top, regardless of the obstacles that stand in her way. The best kind of film is the kind that can be described in a single sentence – and whichever way you look at it, Leave Her to Heaven has a sense of simplicity that trumps nearly everything else, and elevates it to the status of a near-masterpiece, which is certainly not an entirely new concept when discussing this film. Stahl deftly navigates both sides of the story, and produces something that feels incredibly refreshing, while still remaining adherent to conventions – and as we’ve seen many times before, the best genre experiments don’t require revolutionary overhauling to be effective, but rather smaller, more precise changes that cut to the root of why audiences are so enthralled by these stories, from which it can build a fascinating contrast that questions why we’re so enamoured with stories of despicable people, captivated by their moral corruption. There’s something so delightfully entertaining about being simultaneously allured and repulsed by such abhorrent people, which Leave Her to Heaven accomplishes with aplomb and a strange sense of sophistication.

When most people think back on Leave Her to Heaven, the aspect that seems most synonymous with the film is the performance given by Gene Tierney, in what is almost universally considered her finest role, and the film that allowed her to become an indelible part of Hollywood history. She was a fascinating actress – her ravishing beauty was used exceptionally well in the role of this mysterious femme fatale, as were her piercing blue eyes and ability to take a more subtle approach to her acting when it would’ve been far more predictable to take the more bombastic route. Tierney was an absolutely mesmerizing presence, and while some may have a few issues with the film and its treatment of some of its ideas, the performance she turns in is almost unimpeachable. She commands the screen, and whether being delightfully charming, or devilishly evil, she holds our attention and never lets go of it until we’re furiously pushed away by her gradual descent into madness. Cornel Wilde and Darryl Hickman are also quite good, attempting to match Tierney on her level, but fall slightly short, especially when it comes to developing themselves as complex characters, which really doesn’t occur, especially not when there is such a magnetic leading performance guiding so much of this film. Even when her character meets her end, the rest of the film is carried by Vincent Price, who makes a relatively late entry into the film (after a brief introductory scene towards the beginning), and takes on the role of the equally-sinister lawyer who continues her legacy of malice, even after she has gone to her grave. Working in tandem with the magnificent screenplay, the cast of Leave Her to Heaven create an array of fascinating characters that carry the film and make it so much more compelling than the more run-of-the-mill film noirs that seem to be omnipotent during this era.

Stahl may be slightly more experimental here, as he’s certainly someone more accustomed to the melodramatic side of storytelling – but this very experience gave him the necessary insights to put together a thoroughly compelling, and perhaps even oddly enticing, film noir that can stand amongst the very best, and even be a fascinating contrast with the more traditional entries into the genre, since it contains the same bleak nihilism and moral ambiguity as the noir genre. Certainly one of the more intelligent and complex entries into the genre, Leave Her to Heaven is continuously pushing boundaries, while not going so far as to invalidate the more simple qualities that make these stories so enduring. The film carefully constructs a series of situations where we expect it to go in one direction, which it appears to be doing, until it makes a sharp turn into unexpected territory, and leads us to question reality in a way that is quite revolutionary for the time. Films about despicable people weren’t uncommon during this era, but those that saw them succeed were far less frequent – and as much as one can argue that the two genuinely good characters in the film do manage to have a happy ending, its clear that this was tacked on to prevent allegations that the film ends on a dour note. Everything preceding the pointless reunion between the two characters, whose romance was obviously shoehorned into the plot to add some context to an unnecessary conclusion, is absolutely brilliant, precisely because it isn’t afraid of being dark and telling a story that would profoundly unsettle the unsuspecting viewer.

Leave Her to Heaven is a terrific film, and one that should be appreciated as far more than just a definitive performance from Gene Tierney, a gifted actress who perhaps deserved better opportunities. There’s a sincerity to this film that may not be evident from the start, since so much of it takes place in a more bleak version of the world, where hope seems a distant concept – but even beneath its vicious, morally-ambigious portrayal of life, there is something vaguely hopeful here, which hints towards a slightly more optimistic sense of showing that, even when someone thinks they’ve gotten away with the perfect crime, there are always remnants of their actions upon which they can be judged. It’s not a particularly complex film, nor one that requires much from the viewer. Instead, it goes about exploring some interesting themes through a series of moments that feel incredibly authentic, even with the layers of artifice that come as a result of these disparate genres. Stahl is a filmmaker the cinematic world should pay more attention to – without him, we’d not have some of the most unforgettable works of romance, drama and intrigue, since he set the standard and made sure to stay true to his own vision throughout his fascinating career. Leave Her to Heaven is one of his most famous films, a perfect entry-point for his fascinating understanding of the human condition, and overall just a wonderfully unique and entertaining psychological thriller that was so ahead of its time, it feels positively refreshing, even by today’s impossibly high standards.