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Leave Her to Heaven

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Image credit: Leave Her to Heaven, 1945

All aboard the crazy train as we attempt to go inside the twisted mind of Ellen in this week’s film Leave Her to Heaven (Disc). Played by the impossibly beautiful Gene Tierney, this femme fatale will stop at nothing to claim the undivided attention of her man. Obviously, nobody ever taught this gal how to share her toys.

When novelist Richard Harland (Cornel Wilde) first encounters Ellen on a train to New Mexico, he assumes she’s merely an attractive bookworm. The fact that she’s holding one of his books is a nice stroke of the ego, but here’s his first mistake—underestimating Ellen for even a second. Indeed, every interaction from here on feels plotted; part of a grander scheme to fully possess this man. She takes out everyone who gets in her way, from a disabled polio survivor, to her unborn baby, and even <spoiler alert> HERSELF!!!! That’s right, Ellen finds a way to make sure this man thinks only of her, even from beyond the grave. It’s a stunning psychological thriller, made haunting by the cool, calculating eyes of Tierney. Even the movie’s end credits can’t stop her effect on the audience.

Although the acting and script are huge draws, I also enjoy the Leave Her to Heaven’s settings. From the rocky desert of Sedona to the crisp, clean wilderness of Maine, this movie is a celluloid vacation. But rather than getting in the lake with Ellen, I think I’d rather stay on shore sipping a classic Remember the Maine cocktail.

Remember the Maine

2 oz Rye

¾ oz Sweet Vermouth

½ tsp Absinthe

2 tsp Cherry Heering liqueur

Luxardo Maraschino cherry

Combine rye, sweet vermouth, absinthe, and cherry liqueur in a shaker with ice. Shake until chilled, then strain into a coupe glass. Garnish with a cherry.

Having read the book this is based on, I can confirm the film adaptation does a great job of capturing Ellen’s mysterious, devilish allure. In a weird way, you start to understand where she’s coming from. Like her, I wouldn’t want my husband’s relatives to interrupt my romantic vacation, nor would I be thrilled to find myself with child. I don’t think satin pumps and a trip down the staircase would be my solution to that problem, but the way things are going with our reproductive rights, who knows? And that’s what makes Ellen so scary—she could be any woman, who gets pushed just a little too far. Cheers!

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