Make Way for Tomorrow (1937)

Leo McCarey’s wistful ode to old age after a misspent youth (or at least, a poorly planned and executed future.)

An elderly, seventyish couple (Victor Moore and Beulah Bondi) finds themselves homeless and without resources after the bank foreclosures their home, and find they must live separately with the adult children who will take them in (not all can, or will,) but not both at once.

Living with their children and grandchildren who consider them a nuisance is bad enough, but bad weather and bad health mean the grandfather must be sent further away still to California; and problems with a granddaughter force the grandmother into ruefully accepting be sent to an old folks’ home.

They at least have one last day and evening together in which they can say their (final) goodbyes.

While it’s easy to see that with better management and better communication a more optimal solution could have been found there is no way to fix old age.

First, these two folks are not nearly old enough to be this decrepit (there’s no helping their feelings that they are though; nor is the reality that he can’t get hired anymore – on a side note, their old age makeup is quite noticeable); but it’s also obvious that were their children willing to cooperate with each other, better accommodations could be found for them.

What we see onscreen (nice apartments, nice gowns, being able to buy a new shirt when one is sent to the cleaning service, catering services, etc.) somewhat belies the Depression era setting.

It’s hardly as if the families we see are that badly off: They have a live-in servant? And they must supplement their income with Bridge classes? C’mon! It’s obvious that by tightening their belts a bit the old folks could be made more welcome.

That’s not the problem, the problem is that they don’t want to.

One of them objects that if they don't go to the train station, their parents "will think we're terrible," to which the other replies, "Aren't we?"

I’ve had more guests staying for much longer in a smaller home. All it requires is a willingness to sacrifice.

The couple is better received by strangers on their outing than by their own families. (OK, the movie makes its point, but just how realistic is that?)

A simple resolution could also be for both to be sent to California. Retirement homes aren’t free. If one pays for one in New York, the same could just as easily be afforded in California.

The old folks also seem clueless at some points about the nuisances they’ve become: The radio is not working? Go to your room and read for a couple of hours.

Why’d they wait this long to tell the kids they were in trouble?

None of this matters though. The reality is that people, for whatever reasons, find themselves in this very same situation and hindsight is no good.

The movie is also insightful enough to point out that just as young people are bothered by the old folks, the old folks themselves distrust young people, with the example of a doctor the grandfather refuses to work with.

The film gives it equally to both parties: The young get shamed for their behavior, and the elderly get to admit it's their own damned fault they ended up where they did.

With Fay Bainter, Thomas Mitchell, Porter Hall, Barbara Read, Maurice Moscovitch (as a Jewish friend encountering a fleeting instance of antisemitism within the family) and Louise Beavers.

Beautiful and heartbreaking, but still not overly sentimentalized.