The Billboard
The film opens with George Eastman’s hitchhiking trek across half the country to find his place in the sun working for his rich uncle almost at an end. He looks up at a billboard advertisement for his uncle’s company which is composed entirely of a cheesecake shot of a woman seductively lounging on her back in a swimsuit. Above her are the words “It’s an Eastman.” Below her, in smaller print, are the words “Made in the heart of America. For all of America.”
There is absolutely nothing on else to indicate exactly what product is being sold. Within the logic of the film, of course, Eastman swimsuits would be familiar enough, one supposes, that no other information would be necessary. For viewers, however, they can only guess exactly what “is” an Eastman. The point being that the billboard is not really advertising a product, but brand. The symbolism is as prescient as it is corrosive: wealth in American is not really dependent upon hard work creating something as it is upon having a familiar name.
The Billiard Ball
One of the most powerful uses of symbolism in the film is also one of its most subtle. And for that reason, it can take multiple viewings to recognize or appreciate it. Angela has technically already seen George, but their real “meeting” occurs at a party at the home of George’s rich relatives. George, out of place entirely, winds up alone in the billiard room shooting pool. A trick shot impresses Angela as she is casually walking past to finally get her to recognize him as worthy of her attention. This first meeting is interrupted by the arrival of his uncle who presses George to call his ultra-religious mother since it also happens to be his birthday.
During an especially awkward and uncomfortable phone call, Angela remains in the background, absently playing with a pool ball. Standing no more than two or three feet away, she rolls the ball toward a corner pocket and, amazingly, manages to fail to sink it. Unconcerned, she slides the ball toward the hole to make it disappear. The symbolism is so subtle as to be almost imperceptible on an initial viewing, but repeated viewings make it increasingly clear: the 99% have to work like a dog even to the point of perfecting their skills to allow for behind-the-back trick shots to sink a ball. The rich don’t even have to care.
Names
A Place in the Sun is based on An American Tragedy by Theodore Dreiser which has since the year 2000 managed to wind up on many lists recognizing the greatest novels of the 20th century. It tells the story of how Clyde Griffiths gets Roberta Alden pregnant before meeting and falling in love with wealthy socialite Sondra Finchley. By contrast, the film tells the story of how George Eastman gets Alice Tripp pregnant before falling in love with wealthy socialite Angela Vickers. Renaming the protagonist creates a subversive connotative connection to the directive to “Go west, young man” which is part of the mythology of the American Dream being available to anyone willing to work for it. George both literally and symbolically heads in the opposite direction. His desire to find his place in the sun is tripped up by meeting the commonly named Alice, thereby destroying any illusions he may entertain about winning the unattainable heiress with the far more sophisticated and melodious name.
The Radio
A Place in the Sun defied the rigid rules of censorship still in place at the time though on the verge of crumbling which forbade presentations of pre-marital sex between characters. A radio playing on the night of a date between George and Alice that is still on but now emitting nothing but static with the arrival of the morning light of the next day becomes the symbol of the sexual consummation of their relationship as a way to work around this obstruction.
Alice
Alice, ultimately, is the central symbol in a film which is the most corrosive and comprehensive critique of American capitalism to ever be honored with Oscar gold. Consider: Alice works diligently at a thankless and mind-numbing job, is initially resistant to breaking the company rule against dating a co-worker, forces George to go parking at teenage make-out points in order to physically satisfy their cravings rather than defy her landlady’s objections to entertaining men in her home and then, once she does give in and becomes pregnant, decides to keep the baby rather than opting for the then-illegal alternative.
Alice, as irritatingly whiny and pushy and unpleasant as she may be, does absolutely everything right within the context of the expectations of the poor making their way up the economic ladder of success in America. And for all that she not only dies, but is presented in a way in which the audience cannot help but root for that death. She is the villain of the movie, in other words, and that, of course, is entirely the point in this breathtaking deconstruction of the myth of the American Dream.
