The Late George Apley

It is 1912, and George Apley is a stuffy, self-satisfied pillar of Boston’s upper crust, utterly convinced of the superiority of his hometown, his family, and the social rituals that bind them. He words his worldview with a practiced cadence, often slipping in Emerson quotes as if they were proof of his moral authority. For eighteen years he has hosted the town’s Thanksgiving gatherings, a serene ritual that anchors his life. But the film opens with a Thanksgiving dinner that shatters that calm: he discovers that both his son and his daughter have fallen for partners who aren’t part of the Boston circle his family has approved. John Apley has fallen for Myrtle, the daughter of a Worcester manufacturer, while Eleanor ‘Ellie’ Apley loves Howard Boulder, a Harvard lecturer whose career will be imperiled by George’s meddling. Boulder’s offenses aren’t just geographic or institutional—he also challenges George’s reverence for Emerson by presenting a radical view of the writer’s era, a stance George only comes to accept later in the story. The moment of social reckoning comes when George is denied the presidency of the local bird-watching club, a rejection that stems from his refusal to bury an undesirable relative in the family plot and from his attempts to steer the young lovers into what he deems proper matches.

Mrs. Apley divulges a key detail from the past: George had once fallen for a lively local Irish girl, a memory that hints at the emotional costs of his lifelong insistence on propriety and custom. The revelation touches a nerve in him as his brother-in-law and longtime friend Roger Newcombe reminds him of the ache he once felt when separation from that love shaped his future. In a bid to salvage order, George invites Myrtle’s father to discuss a careful, staged introduction of the families to Boston society in advance of the engagement announcement. Yet Myrtle’s father sees through the veneer: he knows his daughter and he knows John, and he doubts that either could be happy living a life defined by the other’s world. The plan collapses, and he suggests sending Myrtle away to California for a time to forget.

As time passes, Eleanor returns from her long journey abroad and steps back into the social calendar as a bridesmaid for the wedding of John and Agnes Willing. Eleanor fears that Howard has forgotten her, not realizing that George has halted their correspondence. Agnes, who has grown aware of Myrtle’s hold on John, shares her insecurities with Eleanor while they fit Agnes in the bridal dress—a gown heavy with lace that seems to trap the past as much as it frames the future. Eleanor’s encouragement is blunt and urgent: > fight. In a bid to prove she can shape her own life, Agnes presses George to let her buy stylish, modern clothes in New York, aiming to present a confident, updated image to Boston society. The day appears triumphant until a reunion with Howard and his circle unsettles the mood, exposing the social traps that still bind them.

At the church on the wedding day, John’s nerves flare as he awaits Agnes, and George leads Eleanor to the street outside where Howard waits. George hands over steamship tickets—their plan for John and Agnes’ honeymoon—and tells them that a captain will perform the marriage. Eleanor embraces him, and the couple drives away toward a future that might finally unify two families. Inside the church, Agnes descends the aisle in a gown that seems to fuse elegance with modern hope, and John beams as his parents step forward, linking arms to share in their son’s happiness.

In the end, the film diverges from the book and play: the title character, George Apley, does not die. He remains a figure who has confronted and absorbed the possibility that his world might not be the only rightful one, and that happiness for his children may require letting go of rigid codes in favor of genuine connection. Catherine Apley plays a quiet but pivotal role in this transformation, a reminder that love and acceptance can emerge from within a carefully curated life.

Last Updated: October 09, 2025 at 11:06