Douglas Sirk was the king of the "weepie." Honestly, if you haven’t sat through the 1959 version of Imitation of Life, you’re missing out on one of the most visually stunning, emotionally manipulative, and socially sharp pieces of cinema ever to come out of the Hollywood studio system. It’s a movie that looks like a box of expensive chocolates but tastes like a bitter pill.
When people talk about the Imitation of Life 1959 film, they usually start with the clothes. Or the jewels. Lana Turner’s wardrobe was legendary, costing a fortune even by today’s standards. But beneath all that Technicolor gloss, there’s a story about race, class, and the performance of identity that feels eerily relevant in our era of curated social media personas. It’s basically the original "fake it 'til you make it" tragedy.
The Two Faces of the 1959 Version
Most folks forget this was actually a remake. The original 1934 version, starring Claudette Colbert, followed the Fannie Hurst novel more closely. In that one, the two women build a pancake empire. But by 1959, Douglas Sirk decided that pancakes weren't glamorous enough for Lana Turner. He turned her character, Lora Meredith, into a Broadway star. This change shifted the whole vibe of the movie. It became a story about the cost of fame versus the cost of just surviving.
You have these two parallel lives. Lora, the white single mother who wants to be a star, and Annie Johnson, the Black woman she hires as a live-in maid who just wants a home for her daughter. Juanita Moore played Annie with such a quiet, soul-crushing dignity that she ended up getting an Oscar nomination for it. She’s the heart of the movie, full stop.
Then there’s Sarah Jane.
If you want to talk about "villains" who aren't really villains, Sarah Jane is the blueprint. Played by Susan Kohner, she is Annie’s daughter, but she’s light-skinned enough to pass for white. She doesn't want her mother's life. She doesn't want to be relegated to the kitchen. So, she runs away and tries to live as a white woman. It’s painful to watch. The scene where her boyfriend—played by a young, terrifying John Gavin—finds out she’s Black and beats her in an alleyway is still one of the most brutal things captured in a 1950s melodrama.
The Subversive Genius of Douglas Sirk
Sirk was a German émigré who saw America with a very cynical eye. He loved "melo," but he used it as a Trojan horse. While the audiences in 1959 were crying over the soaring strings and the funerals, Sirk was actually mocking the American Dream. He used mirrors everywhere. You’ll notice that Lora and Sarah Jane are constantly looking at themselves, checking their "costumes," and making sure the world sees what they want it to see.
It's a movie about reflections.
The Imitation of Life 1959 film uses color like a weapon. The reds are too red, the blues are too icy. It feels artificial because it is artificial. Lora is imitating a mother; Sarah Jane is imitating a white woman; Steve is imitating a romantic hero. None of it is real. The only "real" person is Annie, and the movie suggests that in a world built on imitation, the real person is the one who gets discarded.
Why the Ending Still Hits Different
That funeral. My god, that funeral.
If you don't tear up when Mahalia Jackson starts singing "Trouble of the World," you might actually be a robot. It’s grand. It’s over-the-top. It’s exactly what Annie wanted, but she isn't there to see it. Sarah Jane comes screaming through the crowd, throwing herself onto the casket, begging for forgiveness. It’s a scene that shouldn't work—it’s so dramatic it borders on camp—but because the performances are so grounded in genuine grief, it destroys the audience every time.
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Interestingly, some critics at the time hated it. They thought it was "trashy" or "sentimental." They totally missed the point. They didn't see that Sirk was pointing out the absurdity of giving Annie this massive, royal-style send-off only after she spent her entire life serving a white family. The irony is thick enough to choke on.
The Casting Controversy and Historical Context
We have to address the elephant in the room: Susan Kohner, who played Sarah Jane, was not Black. She was of Mexican and Czech-Jewish descent. In 1959, Hollywood was still incredibly hesitant to cast Black actors in complex, leading roles, even when the role was specifically about the Black experience. While Kohner is incredible in the role, it adds another layer of "imitation" to the film that modern viewers often find uncomfortable.
On the flip side, the friendship between Lana Turner and Juanita Moore was reportedly very real. Turner, who was coming off the massive real-life scandal involving the death of her lover Johnny Stompanato, used this film to rebuild her career. She poured all her personal trauma into the role of Lora.
- Production Fact: Lana Turner’s jewels in the film were real, worth over $1 million at the time, and she had to have armed guards on set.
- Box Office: It was Universal’s highest-grossing film ever at that point. It basically saved the studio.
- Legacy: It’s been preserved in the National Film Registry because it’s considered "culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant."
Why Modern Audiences Are Rediscovering It
In a world of TikTok filters and "curated lifestyles," the Imitation of Life 1959 film feels like it was made yesterday. We are still obsessed with how we are perceived. We still struggle with the divide between our public success and our private failures.
There's also the racial component. The film doesn't provide easy answers. It doesn't tell Sarah Jane she's "wrong" for wanting to escape the systemic racism of the 50s; it just shows the impossible cost of that escape. It’s a nuanced take on "passing" that movies today still struggle to get right.
Look at the way Lora ignores Annie's inner life. Lora thinks she’s a "good" person because she’s kind to her maid, but she never truly sees Annie as an equal. She treats her like a permanent fixture of the house, like a lamp or a sofa. That "polite" racism is arguably more biting than the overt violence Sarah Jane faces. It's the kind of subtle social commentary that makes Sirk a master.
Actionable Takeaways for Film Buffs
If you're planning to watch or re-watch this classic, don't just look at the surface.
First, watch the mirrors. Every time a character is at their most dishonest, they are usually positioned near a reflection. It's Sirk's way of telling you they are performing.
Second, pay attention to the flowers. The floral arrangements in the Meredith household are insanely large and aggressive. They symbolize the stifling nature of Lora’s "perfect" life.
Third, compare it to the 1934 version. If you can find the original, watch them back-to-back. The 1934 film is more focused on the business success of the women, whereas the 1959 version is obsessed with the performance of womanhood. It tells you a lot about how Hollywood’s priorities shifted in twenty-five years.
Finally, look up the career of Juanita Moore. She was a powerhouse who deserved a much bigger career than Hollywood gave her. Her performance in this movie is a masterclass in "less is more."
The Imitation of Life 1959 film isn't just a "chick flick" or a dusty old melodrama. It’s a mirror held up to the American psyche. It asks if we are ever truly ourselves, or if we’re all just playing a part to get by. Whether you come for the fashion or the social commentary, you’ll leave with a lot to think about.
To dive deeper into the world of 1950s melodrama, start by exploring the rest of Douglas Sirk’s "color trilogy," which includes All That Heaven Allows and Written on the Wind. These films provide the necessary context to understand how Sirk used the aesthetics of the era to critique its values. Tracking down the 1934 original for a side-by-side comparison also reveals how the 1959 version's shift toward the world of theater and "stardom" fundamentally altered the narrative's impact on race and class.