How I felt about it. Biographies are still filmed today, but they usually celebrate entertainers or eccentrics. During the 1930s to 1940s, however, the inspirational biography was a Hollywood staple. American inventors such as Bell and Edison were targeted, as well as medical heroes such as Dr. Ehrlich and Louis Pasteur. The latter was not trained as a doctor, and thus had to wage an uphill battle against regional doctors, who resisted new ideas and methods.
And so it is with nurse Kelly (the title Sister refers to her stint as an Army nurse, and not as a nun.) How could a woman, a nurse, find a superior treatment that contradicts collective orthopedic experience? Sister Kenny works hard to convince that doctors are well-intentioned, even admirable, in their resistance. But clearly, exclusion of outsiders (meddling nurses) and protection of insiders (specialists) are two of the doctors' motives.
Sister Kenny could not have been made after 1954. That year, the vaccine of Dr. Jonas Salk was proved effective against polio. Prevention trumps treatment, and almost overnight, polio became a conquered nightmare. The greater importance of Salk's contribution relegated Kenny, and her battle over polio treatment, to a footnote of medical history.
Rosalind Russell is best known for her work in comedies (His Girl Friday, Auntie Mame). The best dramatic roles of pure, noble women during the forties went to Greer Garson, who could easily be imagined wearing the white garb of Sister Kenny. But Russell does just fine in the role, and merited her Best Actress Oscar nomination. She promptly works up passion, particularly against doctors, in her various speeches. One can almost forget that the issue is the treatment of potentially crippled children, rather than whether the affected should be immobilized or massaged.
Its apparent early on that Kenny's long-suffering suitor, perfect man Captain Kevin (Dean Jagger), is never going to marry Kenny. Australian law of the era forbid a married woman to practice as a nurse. It appears, instead, that Kenny (who was still alive when the film was made) remains a virgin throughout her life, due to restrictions on her unwed character by the Puritan Hollywood production code.
Sister Kenny is guilty of condensation. Kenny is dictating a letter to her doctor friend Alexander Knox, when she receives a telegram notifying her of his demise. Sigh, no need to finish the telegram. Just moments later, Kenny is delivering her first speech to doctors, when a committee condemnation of her plays over the loudspeakers.
The pattern of star turn moments runs throughout the film. Kenny is to annouce her intention to marry (and thus leave nursing) to Knox, who obliviously presses her about her polio patients. In another scene, Kelly has her bags packed to leave the U.S., when she learns of a plum position given to her in Minneapolis.
While I am no expert on Sister Kenny, the timing of these moments must have fabricated elements, which makes them no less compelling. Noted screenwriter Dudley Nichols takes on the rare (for him) duties of director and producer. He also gives partial writing credit to Knox, who apparently successfully lobbied for changes to his Scottish-accented lines.