Good-bye My Lady (1956, dir. William A. Wellman, US) by Patrick McElroy

When looking at the studio era of filmmakers – a time from the 1930’s through 50s when men for hire would crank out three or four films a year – one name that often gets overlooked is William A. Wellman. He was a contract director for Warner Bros., and made over 80 films, among them the first Academy Award Winner for Best Picture Wings, the landmark gangster film The Public Enemy, the first version of A Star is Born, and the classic comedy Nothing Sacred.

One of the films of his that gets overlooked was made during the  twilight of his career in 1956, it’s the simple and sentimental drama Good-Bye, My Lady. The film takes place in a swamp in Mississippi, where an orphaned boy Skeeter (Brandon deWilde) lives in a cabin with his Uncle Jesse (Walter Brennan).

One evening they notice a strange sound outside that sounds like a laugh, and a yodel, Skeeter then spends the next day looking for this strange sound only to discover it’s a rare dog breed. He then brings the dog home, where him and  his uncle decide to name it Lady. In a place where Skeeter has felt loneliness and alienation, this becomes the first close relationship in his life and brings him closer to his uncle.

What’s remarkable about this film is the direct sense of simplicity in its storytelling and visual style. Wellman was a director known for camera moves and lighting that was beautiful, but never obtrusive. Here, he strips a lot of it down to let you witness the behavior between the characters, where you grow to love and care for them.

The film almost feels in the same vein as Jean Renoir, where it doesn’t get involved in much of a plot, and just lets the humanity of it’s characters drive the film. The performance by deWilde is very understated – where most child actors often try to be affectionate at every turn, he gives you a sense of reality in a boy who’s going to enter his teen years and has to take some form of responsibility.

Brennan, who was normally comedic relief in the films of Howard Hawks and William Wyler, gives a performance of sincerity, where you feel his compassion for Skeeter and the dog.

One of the reasons this film gets overlooked, is because it’s a smaller scale film that doesn’t have a major star at the center, but it’s always nice to discover something unknown, because it shows how immense film history is.

Patrick McElroy is a movie writer and movie lover based in Los Angeles. Check out his other writing at: https://www.facebook.com/patrick.mcelroy.3726 or his IG: @mcelroy.patrick