In den Wind geschrieben

Zwei beste Freunde – einer von ihnen ist reich und unglücklich, der andere ausgeglichen und sympathisch. Und dazu zwei Frauen. Ein traditionelles Melodrama (so etwas wie die Serie Dallas) in einer Hollywood-Glitzerverpackung. Im Rahmen des Genres kann man nichts kritisieren, es ist aber eher ein kitschiger Film zum Entspannen für Hausfrauen als eine geistreiche Film-Siesta. (28.08.2005)

The enormous asset of this film is neither Rock Hudson, Robert Stack, nor Lauren Bacall, but Dorothy Malone, who is simply fascinatingly repulsive in her role. Excellently performed, and it's worth watching the movie just because of her. I love movies that are about self-destruction, but this one didn't quite impress me as much as I expected. (08.01.2015)

Melodrama is not a psychological drama. In it, hearts beat, tears flow, confessions hit the wall of misunderstanding, and male vanity demands satisfaction. Love, hatred, pain, and joy are sold in large packages. And in the case of Douglas Sirk, in quite luxurious packaging. After all, he is the most significant specialist in the genre of 1950s American cinema. This film has a star-studded cast, and those who enjoy melodrama will most likely not be disappointed. Personally, I can say that it would take me a long time to search my memory for a melodramatic film that moved me - and Written on the Wind would definitely not be it. Overall impression: 40%. (04.09.2014)

A guy met a guy... and then a girl interfered in their relationship. Roughly two-thirds of the way into the film, I realised that Sirk’s Written on the Wind isn’t so much a traditional heterosexual romance as it is an almost western duel between two men, friends for life and in death, whose frustrations (of different origins) gave rise to a weakness for guns and alcohol rather than members of the opposite sex. Women are their downfall. It’s possible that I’m completely missing the mark, but I’m trying to understand why (because of my delayed recognition of the creative intention) the film completely left me cold emotionally (which doesn’t happen to me very often with melodramas). In spite of that, however, I admired the pleasant directness of the storytelling from the beginning, as well as the ambiguity of the dialogue, the expressive language of the Technicolor hues (which stand in for more graphic erotic material) and the unmissable phallic symbolism, i.e. mostly indications of Sirk’s theatre background and his ability to connect the characters with the mise-en-scéne. However, his experience from the theatre does not explain the several brilliantly edited sequences (the father’s death) or the use of subjectivising camera angles that make us sympathise with the supposed villain, which are evidence of Sirk’s exceptionalism as a film director. I consider the final stroking of the model of an oil derrick, representing the phallus of the complex-ridden male protagonists as well as American society at the time, as clear proof of Sirk’s affiliation with the classic-era Hollywood “smugglers” who inserted rather subversive messages into stories that appeared to be so innocent on the surface. 75% (04.10.2012)