Imitation of Life


Before sitting down to watch Imitation of Life, I must confess to having been ignorant of the term “passing.” I don’t recall it ever being mentioned in school when we were being taught about the civil rights movement in the mid-1900s, but I had heard of a story about an African American married couple who were able to flee to the North during the slavery years thanks to the wife being fair-skinned enough to pass for a white woman. She couldn’t write, but her husband could, so she hid it by putting her arm in a fake cast, claimed her husband was her slave, and had him sign anything needing a signature during their journey north. This was my only reference to a Black person passing themselves off as white, but I had no name for it. I had never heard of a Black person doing this simply because they were ashamed of their heritage and race, not until I watched this movie. Now, I can’t imagine why the idea had never occurred to me before. Maybe because I live in an era where there is a big push to be proud of who you are and where you came from. Growing up in the 1980s, there was some of that, and it has only grown stronger in the decades since. There would have been a bigger motivation to hide that in the 1930s when segregation was still very much a thing. 



Imitation of Life has a very forward view of the races for a film made in the United States in the 1930s. It doesn’t ignore the racial segregation, but it treats the African American characters with dignity and respect when many other films of the era were relegating them to stereotypes. The film plays on that a little, too, by introducing Delilah Johnson as a typical housemaid type of character, then takes it in a far different direction than is expected. The friendship that grows between Bea and Delilah as well as their two daughters, Peola and Jessie, is refreshing to see at a time when this was far from the norm. On top of that, this film depicts single women in a light that was rare, too, showing them as competent businesswomen capable of launching a successful franchise and growing wealthy through their own hard work. Bea, in particular, is business-savvy and takes risks that ultimately pay off in the long run. For a 1930s Hollywood picture, this film is very progressive. It doesn’t ignore the racism of the day, though, but is limited in what it can say because of the Hays Code. Where it can, though, it points it out. For instance, Bea’s share of the restaurant is far more than Delilah’s and this is treated as normal, nothing to even think about. 



The film opens with Bea (Claudette Colbert), recently widowed, taking care of her toddler daughter, Jessie. Since her husband died, her life has been hectic as she tries to balance being a mother as well as raising her child. She is interrupted by the arrival of Delilah Johnson (Louise Beavers), an African American woman who has arrived looking to interview for a housemaid position, unaware that she has gone to the wrong location. While Bea is talking with her and trying to juggle food on the stove, a phone call, and her daughter who has fallen fully clothed back into the bathtub, Bea realizes that despite being strapped for money, she needs some help. Delilah agrees to be the housekeeper in exchange for room and board, a Godsend for Bea. 



Delilah brings with her a young daughter, Peola, who inherited her late father’s light skin and could pass for a white person. The four become like family, and the arrangement is mutually beneficial to all of them. They all particularly enjoy Delilah’s pancake recipe, and one day Bea gets the idea to open a restaurant using that recipe to draw in customers. She uses her business know-how to get a storefront and living quarters on the boardwalk, refurbishing the place entirely on credit. The going is hard at first, but within five years, all of their debts are paid, and they are finally able to make a comfortable profit. In the meantime, Peola is starting to resent being seen as Black and hides this from her schoolmates and teachers. When Delilah shows up at the school to drop off some rainy weather cloths for her daughter, Peola hides behind her books and is upset that her mother has exposed her for being Black. 


As the years go by, Bea, with the help of a savvy businessman, expands the restaurant into merchandising the pancake mix into a boxed variety for stores, and she and Delilah are suddenly wealthy. None of this matters to Peola, who is getting more and more frustrated with her mother because her existence is a reminder of her real heritage. When Delilah sends her off to a black school in the South, she runs away and gets a job working in a store, only to lose it when Delilah shows up, exposing Peola as being black. Peola gets so upset with her mother over this that she denounces her and refuses to go back to school or come home. This sends her mother into a deep state of depression that she will never recover from. 



This film has a lot to say about self-image and being proud of your heritage. Delilah has the outward appearance of a stereotypical black maid from the 1930s, complete with the mentality that she wants to be in service of Bea, a white woman. When the money starts coming in, Bea is excited about Delilah being able to afford a house of her own, only to be taken aback when Delilah doesn’t want to be on her own. She wants to be always taking care of Bea and her daughter. This mindset is fascinating to look at as it is a reminder that it wasn’t all that long ago when the slaves were first freed, and some stayed on with their former owners because they knew nothing else. Delilah fears change and states that all she really wants is for enough money to have a nice, impressive funeral. Bea sets up a bank account for her and ensures she gets her share of the profits deposited, anyway.



Then we see the younger generation, represented by her daughter, Peora, who wants to deny who she physically is because it represents an embarrassment to her. By “passing” herself off as white, she sees opportunities that aren’t available to her otherwise. She is embarrassed by her mother and doesn’t see that her words and actions are hurting her. At the same time, Delilah cannot relate to her daughter and understand why she sees things the way that she does. These are two mindsets that are seemingly incompatible, and it will take a traumatic event to bridge that gap between the two of them. 


The plot about the restaurant, and later the boxed pancake mix, is interesting and all, but fortunately, that is not the focus of the film. This is a story about acceptance, and it is wonderful to see a film from this era treat the two races with such reverence. Bea is never patronizing or inconsiderate towards Delilah, and the two become good friends early on. The same goes for Jessie and Peora. We get no semblance of racial tension between any of them and no real conflict until Jessie one day mentions that Peora is black, which upsets her. This is the first time that we see that Peora doesn’t want to be seen that way. Bea tries to have Jessie apologize for it, but Delilah points out that Jessie wasn’t in the wrong and shouldn’t be made to apologize. 



The ending of the film is very sad and tragic. Peora leaves home having argued with her mother again about how embarrassed she is by her, telling her she will never return so she can live as a white woman. Had she stayed home, she would have seen how much her actions were destroying her mother, and things might have ended differently. Instead, she only finds out when word of her mother’s death reaches her. By then, it is too late to remedy things. It is a harsh lesson to learn, and she will have to live with that for the rest of her life. 


There is a secondary story being told in parallel to the one between Delilah and Peora. At some point, Bea meets Stephen Archer (Warren William), an ichthyologist. The two fall in love and plan to marry. Bea keeps this information from Jessie, wanting the young woman to get to know him better before springing this news upon her. This plan backfires as Jessie falls in love with him, too. Bea doesn’t want to give up her own happiness but also doesn’t want to destroy her relationship with Jessie, who may be forever pushed away should her mother marry the man she, Jessie,  is in love with. This story doesn’t have quite the weight of the other story, and the resolution isn’t particularly satisfying, but it does show us just how caring and thoughtful her mother is over all things, especially those she loves. 



This is a fascinating look at the generational shifts that were going on in this country during the 1930s, shifts that would resonate well into the civil rights era that was going on not that long before I was born. It’s a clear example of just how difficult it is to change the way a person thinks, not only about themselves but about their entire race. Changes are slow and can often be frustrating to go through. Imitation of Life dramatizes this in a way that will make you think and evaluate the world we still live in and just what still needs to improve before we can be proud of who we are no matter what we physically look like. The final image is of the advertisement for the pancake mix, a giant light-up image of Delilah smiling. It reminded me of Aunt Jemima and the whole debacle going on right now about trying to erase her from history over a similar embarrassment over our past and what it represents. 


Academy Award Nominations:


Best Picture: John M. Stahl


Best Assistant Director: Scott R. Beal


Best Sound Recording: Theodore Soderberg


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Release Date: November 26, 1934


Running Time: 111 Minutes


Not Rated


Starring: Claudette Colbert, Warren William, Rochelle Hudson, Ned Sparks, Henry Armetta, Jane Withers, Alan Hale, Louise Beavers, Fredi Washington, and Franklyn Pangborn


Directed By: John M. Stahl

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