97. Olivia de Havilland (Gone with the Wind)

97. The first supporting performance of the countdown, from a lady who was basically a leading actress. De Havilland, whom I first fell in love with The Heiress, will always be the quintessential Melanie Wilkes. I may be the only person alive who would have voted for Ms. de Havilland instead of Hattie McDaniel in 1939. Not that the boisterous McDaniel wasn't excellent (she was), but I've always been a fan of the quiet, pleaful Ms. Wilkes.

Someone once stated that the first time you see Gone with the Wind, you are supposed to hate Melanie, and eventually you will grow to appreciate her. I guess I can understand that, but I believe I've loved her always. That slight smile, the eternal saintliness, all covering a mask of a woman who is likely severely distraught-wondering how her husband can possibly yearn for another woman, even though she loves him desperately. Look at her as she pines for Ashley while he's away at war, how she longs for her husband even while he's prancing around with Scarlett. De Havilland is homespun grace and charm-it isn't one-note, it's just subtle. My favorite scene is where she reassures Belle Watling that they could be good friends, but the most actorly of all the scenes is when she introduces a scarlet Scarlett at Ashley's birthday party. All that sweetness, so cleverly hiding contempt and the joy of learning that everyone loathes the harlot Scarlett (I cannot avoid rhyming!), she's magical.

For a double feature, I'd suggest you check out the second Oscar-winning turn that de Havilland turned in The Heiress (the first is a bland sudser). Here she's an older Melanie, less happy, more obviously out for revenge against a young Monty Clift.