Showing posts with label Bette Davis. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bette Davis. Show all posts

Saturday, February 14, 2026

OVP: The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex (1939)

Film: The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex (1939)
Stars: Bette Davis, Errol Flynn, Olivia de Havilland, Donald Crisp, Alan Hale, Sr., Vincent Price, Harry Stephenson, Nanette Fabray
Director: Michael Curtiz
Oscar History: 5 nominations (Best Art Direction, Cinematography, Visual Effects, Sound, Scoring)
Snap Judgment Ranking: 2/5 stars

Each month, as part of our 2026 Saturdays with the Stars series, we are looking at the men & women who created the Boom!-Pow!-Bang! action films that would come to dominate the Blockbuster Era of cinema.  This month, our focus is on Errol Flynn: click here to learn more about Mr. Flynn (and why I picked him), and click here for other Saturdays with the Stars articles.

Errol Flynn lasted as a movie star for decades, but as one who was pretty much unimpeachable in terms of his box office, this period lasted roughly from 1935-1942, at which point he was oftentimes the biggest star on the Warner Brothers lot, give or take Bette Davis & James Cagney.  During this time, Flynn was married to the same woman, actress Lila Damita, but he had a history of womanizing.  Like Gary Cooper before him, he had an affair with Lupe Velez, and would get drunk off of William Randolph Hearst's vodka.  This reputation as a party boy was in stark juxtaposition to the men he'd play onscreen, frequently honorable scoundrels, or in the case of today's movie, a truly honorable man stuck in an impossible situation between two women.  This would also pair Flynn with both of the actresses that he'd be most associated with in his career: Olivia de Havilland, whom he would have a largely amicable relationship with, and Bette Davis...with whom he would not.

(Spoilers Ahead) The film is a glossy historical melodrama, one where facts should not get in the way of a good monologue.  Private Lives is about an aging Queen Elizabeth (Davis, in de facto kabuki makeup), who is clearly desperately in love with the handsome, popular Earl of Essex (Flynn), but cannot have him in the way that she wants because it would put at risk her power.  She instead constantly finds herself at odds with him, usually in open court, and has fights with him, using her lover as a pawn in a number of battles, oftentimes risking his life as punishment for not returning her love in the way that she wants, because he's also power-hungry.  This all happens while the beautiful Lady Penelope (de Havilland) is also pursuing the Earl, which in the film's final moments we're led to believe was nothing, and that Elizabeth was his own true love.  Of course, at that point Elizabeth has publicly demanded the Earl's head for trying to be her equal, and there is no way out for the Queen, doomed to forever remain unmarried & unloved (except by England).

This is territory we've been to cinematically-Elizabeth's inability to find love because she is not beautiful and demands power instead has been informed by everyone from Helen Mirren to Glenda Jackson to Cate Blanchett to Margot Robbie (even Bette would go to this well twice).  Davis, at the peak of her power and beauty, wears intense makeup that makes her look, well, hideous (and years older than she was), in some ways foreshadowing her later triumph in Baby Jane Hudson.  But the movie, despite looking divine (the costumes, art direction, & cinematography are all a triumph, though why it got a special effects nomination at the Oscars is beyond me...the Scoring nomination is a bit cheeky given there's a song sung by Olivia de Havilland's character written by the actual Walter Raleigh, here played by Vincent Price in an early role), is kind of a snore.  Davis overacts to the rafters (with diminishing returns), de Havilland is fun but too small of a part, and Flynn's performance is a bit underwhelming.  Flynn is so grand in swashbuckling roles, but (as we'll see in the coming weeks), he was a somewhat limited actor when it came to going beyond that ken.  He is breathtakingly beautiful in this-it takes an actress as confident as Davis to appear in this kind of makeup against Flynn, who looks like a Raphael painting in some scenes, and risk being thought ugly, but I don't think he can land some of the scenes, save for the last 15 minutes, when he's betrayed by Davis & they both seem to be in a much better movie.

Offscreen, Davis and Flynn were not close in the same way that he was with de Havilland, and it's hard to pinpoint the exact nature of their relationship given that Davis would outlive him by decades, and therefore be able to go on talk shows (and discuss in memoirs) what she thought of him, and regularly change her mind.  She seemed to not like his ethics as an actor (finding he preferred celebrity more than the serious craft that Davis believed screen-acting), and also thought it beneath her to share billing with him in the film (you'll note, watching it now, that Davis, not Flynn, gets top billing, which makes sense in retrospect given her legend, but at the time would've been a genuine debate as both were equally valuable to Warner Brothers).  Davis wanted Laurence Olivier, who wasn't famous enough to get a role like this in 1939 (Wuthering Heights had not come out when production was in motion), and at one point (according to Hollywood legend) actually slaps Flynn for real in one scene, rather than faking it as would be typical on a production, which caused Flynn to become ill.  Davis, though, had kinder words about Flynn than I do in this movie, conceding that she thought him very good years after the fact while watching the movie, and telling de Havilland "he can act!"

Saturday, October 22, 2022

OVP: A Stolen Life (1946)

Film: A Stolen Life (1946)
Stars: Bette Davis, Glenn Ford, Dane Clark, Walter Brennan, Charlie Ruggles
Director: Curtis Bernhardt
Oscar History: 1 nomination (Best Special Effects)
Snap Judgment Ranking: 3/5 stars

Each month, as part of our 2022 Saturdays with the Stars series, we highlight a different Classical Hollywood star who made their name in the early days of television.  This month, our focus is on Walter Brennan: click here to learn more about Mr. Brennan (and why I picked him), and click here for other Saturdays with the Stars articles.

Walter Brennan worked his whole life, but weirdly Oscar gave up on him after 1941.  This is unusual not necessarily because Brennan has a lot of performances that warranted nominations in the years that followed.  After all, while Brennan was always a sturdy, scene-stealing presence in film he wasn't necessarily someone who, in my opinion, was given a lot of super plum roles in movies that demanded Academy attention in the way that say, Claude Rains was.  But it is odd because after Sergeant York, Brennan appeared in some really, really good movies, much better than any of the films that he actually won an Oscar for.  This week we're focusing on a film from 1946, and next week we're going to jump ahead a few decades (Brennan's long career demands some edits), so it's worth noting that between Sergeant York and into his run as a TV star on The Real McCoys, he appeared in film classics like To Have and Have Not, My Darling Clementine, Red River, and Rio Bravo, all of which are superb (and frequently clumped with the word "masterpiece").  None of these movies got Brennan another Oscar nomination, however, and while it's hard to say the man wasn't getting his due from the Academy (three statues is more than enough for even the greatest of thespians), this drought feels odd.  As I have seen all of Brennan's biggest classics from this era, we're going to focus today on another high-profile film, this one he did with Bette Davis & Glenn Ford: A Stolen Life.

(Spoilers Ahead) The movie follows Kate Bosworth (Davis...and only upon proofreading this review did I realize she shares a name with the Blue Crush actress), a wealthy heiress who is making a go of it as an artist (unsuccessfully) who goes to stay with her sister Pat (also Davis), but on the way falls for a young man named Bill Emerson (Ford) who gives her a ride to the island that Pat lives on.  To try and get closer to Bill, Kate offers to paint Bill's friend Eben Folger (Brennan), who is a cranky lighthouse operator who doesn't love being part of the matchmaking (though he secretly respects Kate).  Pat, however, is a bit man-hungry and also wants whatever her sister has, and goes after Bill as well, and as she's showier & more glamorous, she gets him.  Kate takes up briefly with a poor artist named Karnock (Clark), whom she clearly has some feeling for, primarily because he's the only guy willing to tell her she's not a good artist, but it goes nowhere-she still loves Bill.

This is where the film goes into the deep end, literally and figuratively.  Pat & Kate go out on a boat, and while they're out on the sea, the boat capsizes, and Pat drowns.  However, as she's trying to save her, Kate gets Pat's wedding ring and manages to slip it on...with everyone assuming since they're twins that Kate is Pat, and Kate, desperate for Bill, goes along with the ruse.  This ends up being a fool's errand when she realizes that Pat & Bill's marriage is basically kaput, as Pat has been cheating on him, and though they eventually end up together (when Pat reveals that she's Kate), we get multiple scenes with Kate learning uncomfortable truths about her late sister.

The film strains credulity, obviously.  The idea that a man couldn't tell his own wife apart from her sister (never mind that ANYONE else couldn't tell them apart either, even though they have polar opposite personalities) is absurd.  But if you get past that, it's kind of a silly fun melodrama.  This was during the nadir of Davis career, or at least one of them (Davis, like most long-lasting Classical Hollywood stars, had a lot of ebbs-and-flows in her career), when most of the best roles on the Warner Brothers lot were going to Joan Crawford post her Mildred Pierce Oscar win.  This film made a fortune when it first came out (there was still demand for Davis), but it was not well-received by critics, and would be followed by a series of flops for the performer, who would have to wait another four years before the crown jewel of her career, All About Eve.  But with enough distance, I liked this-it's stupid, but Davis is great in both roles & a joy to watch.  Weirdly, this is one of two films that stars Davis as her own sister-anyone else think I should check out Dead Ringer?

Two quick notes before we go.  You'll notice I didn't mention Brennan, and that's because he's barely in the movie.  He plays the curmudgeonly old man well (it's Walter Brennan, that's his raison d'ĂȘtre) but he disappears from the back half of the movie and has little impact on the plot, so there's not a lot to say about him.  And the film won one Oscar nomination, for Best Special Effects, and while it's a relatively singular effect, the one scene early in the film when both sisters are introduced and Davis shares the screen with herself is quite impressive.  Particularly given this had to be done entirely with trick photography rather than CGI, you see no seams onscreen indicating when Davis is working with no one or a body double.  It didn't win, but the nomination was well worth it.

Friday, June 18, 2021

OVP: Jezebel (1938)

Film: Jezebel (1938)
Stars: Bette Davis, Henry Fonda, George Brent, Donald Crisp, Fay Bainter
Director: William Wyler
Oscar History: 5 nominations/2 wins (Best Picture, Actress-Bette Davis*, Supporting Actress-Fay Bainter*, Cinematography, Scoring)
(Not So) Snap Judgment Ranking: 3/5 stars

Only twice in Academy history has an actor scored five consecutive Oscar nominations, something that not even Meryl Streep herself can boast (Streep did, it's worth noting, go 5-for-6 from 1978-83, but didn't score anything in 1980).  The second of these two performers is Greer Garson, whose run is generally ignored today by cinephiles (somewhat unfairly, as Garson had the ability for great work, even though she was clearly overrated).  The other performer, though, was part of a legendary Oscar tour: Bette Davis.  From 1938-42, Davis was cited for Jezebel, Dark Victory, The Letter, The Little Foxes, and Now Voyager, all of which are still considered to be triumphs, and combined they encompass a lot of what gave Davis the "greatest actor of her generation title."  Today we are going to discuss Jezebel, which is the first of these nominations and a movie that I hadn't seen in some 25 years until I chanced upon it this past weekend, the one film of this quintet she translated that nomination into an actual victory.

(Spoilers Ahead) The movie is about Julie Marsden (Davis), a spoiled, beautiful young southern belle who at the beginning of the film is mad that her beau Preston Dillard (Fonda) won't come to her dress fitting.  She decides to enact revenge on him by wearing a red dress to a local dance where all of the unmarried girls wear white, much to the chagrin of everyone around her, including her Aunt Belle (Bainter).  Though Pres protests, she goes to the dance dressed in red, and quickly realizes the error of her ways when she's shunned by virtually everyone, and becomes a pariah.  After this dance, Pres dumps her, and goes north.  When he returns, she's ready to placate him, but he's already married to Amy (Margaret Lindsay), a northerner who feels like an outsider to Julie, and competition she must squash.  She goes about this by dating Buck Cantrell (Brent), who is madly in love with her, and who consistently fights with Pres.  This goes awry when Pres's brother (Richard Cromwell) challenges Buck to a duel, and in the process Buck dies.  Later in the film, there is a pandemic breaking out, and soon Pres becomes infected.  Julie wants to treat him, fighting with Amy, and eventually convincing her that Julie will be better for Pres, that Amy won't have the strength to fight for him the way she will.  The film ends with Julie, defeated but ready to finally repay Pres for her slight, headed into an unknown future where they may well both die of the disease.

As I mentioned above, I had seen Jezebel, but it had been a really long time since I watched it; it was surely something I recorded off of AMC with a VHS tape when I was a child at the beginning of my Oscar-watching.  I did remember it better than I expected, I will say, particularly the fuss over the red dress, Bainter's title character speech, and the defiant Davis headed off with a handsome, scruffy Hank Fonda into near-certain death.  What I didn't recall, and quite frankly this might be because I hadn't seen it yet, was how similar it feels to Gone with the Wind.  Jezebel the film preceded Gone with the Wind, and the play on which it is based preceded Margaret Mitchell's novel.  But it's hard to watch this film & not think of it as a lesser chapter compared to the magnum opus, and not just because most movies feel dwarfed by Gone with the Wind, the Grand Teton of what Hollywood can do when everything goes for the widest possible angle.

After all, in Gone with the Wind there's a section where Scarlett also has to wear a red dress, albeit less of her own volition & more because she's being punished for (trying to take) another woman's man, which Julie eventually attempts in this film.  So much of the plot is ripped wholesale it almost feels unfair to punish Jezebel, but in Wyler's film it all feels so slight compared to Gone with the Wind, and the few ways that the later Fleming film should be improved, specifically around racism, are not addressed in a movie like Jezebel.  If anything, Julie uses the slaves in her film more as props than Scarlett did, at one point singing with them gaily as she starts to lose her grip on her sanity, in a scene that feels uncomfortably like she's using a group of black people as metaphors to indicate her straying from reality.

The movie also doesn't really know how to treat the central romance, and Julie herself.  Unlike Scarlett, who has a sense of purpose not with Rhett or Ashley or the war, but to her home (to Tara), Julie doesn't really have that guiding light.  She's obsessed with Preston, but we don't entirely know why other than he's the one thing she can't have.  It doesn't feel like they're actually in love, particularly since Preston Dillard is a massive dud of a character.  This is weird to say about Henry Fonda (if you've read this blog long, you know I'm a fan-this is not an actor I criticize frequently, if at all), but he is totally wrong for this part.  The two reportedly had an affair in real life, but Davis & Fonda have zero chemistry onscreen, and he feels all wrong for this part.  There's no charisma, and while Davis is knee-deep in an authentic southern accent, the Nebraska-born Fonda does little to buckle his home-spun Midwestern cadence.  The result is a central romance that never takes off, and feels like a total failure, quite frankly-Fonda is actively bad in this movie.

Davis is good, though upon revisit she's not as good as I remembered, mostly because I've seen a lot more of her work in the years since and I know what she's capable of doing.  Few actresses of this era (perhaps no major stars of this era, period) committed to a role like Bette Davis, and that's certainly the case here.  She plays Julie to the hilt, but she doesn't give her quite enough purpose.  Yes, it's marvelous to behold: her soliloquies are wonderful, the way that she glances at Fonda as he forces her to dance, suddenly becoming aware that she's in over-her-head and as a rich, privileged girl this isn't a feeling she's used to, her gigantic saucer eyes somehow stretching wider...that's breathtaking and the kind of minute character work that Davis is so freaking excellent at.  But there are other scenes later in the film that don't feel quite right.  The callous way that she basically sends her "one true love's" brother off to his death feels like a weird editing choice, and she can't sell the final moments with Amy...there's not enough to her relationship with Preston to make her pleading work.  Davis is very good, but this is not the best performance in her run, and it's hard to compare this with the heights she was about to hit with The Letter and Now Voyager, some of her best work without coming away with a slight whiff of "she's been better."

The film's other nominations, save for Best Picture (you already saw the star rating-you know where I landed) were totally earned (and for the record, while I'm not done with most of the viewings from 1938, Davis is in the running for me for both an OVP & a My Ballot nomination).  Fay Bainter was the first performer ever nominated in both lead and supporting in the same year, and she got this award in part as a consolation prize for not besting Davis.  It's not as showy of a role as I remembered, though she does get that great scene about "a woman called Jezebel" that would've been her Oscar clip if such things existed in 1938.  She's good, subtle, the sort of woman who knows that her niece is beyond her control & she's not entirely certain how much effort she wants to put in anymore-it's a strong role that stands out because of the stellar actress behind it.  The Max Steiner score is marvelous, combined with some Strauss & Stephen Foster to give us a full southern push (Steiner reportedly won the job of scoring Gone with the Wind based on this picture), and the cinematography, particularly in the last ten minutes is moody & wonderful.  Kudos also have to go to the costume designers (Davis is exceptionally glamorous, and that red dress, really bronze in real life, is a showstopper), and art directors, neither of whom had this category in 1938 but surely would've been in the running.  But overall, Jezebel is a movie that's fine, and might even be good, but it's impossible to escape the weight of what was to come the following year & redefine the southern saga for always in Hollywood.

Friday, May 07, 2021

OVP: The Letter (1940)

Film: The Letter (1940)
Stars: Bette Davis, Herbert Marshall, James Stephenson, Frieda Inescort, Gale Sondergaard
Director: William Wyler
Oscar History: 7 nominations (Best Picture, Director, Actress-Bette Davis, Supporting Actor-James Stephenson, Cinematography, Film Editing, Score)
Snap Judgment Ranking: 4/5 stars

As I work my way through all of the Oscar nominees from every year, while the films are oftentimes randomly-selected, I do end up gravitating toward movies that I suspect I'll actually like more often-than-not, and as a result some of my favorite performers I've nearly completed all of their nominated work.  Bette Davis would win 10 Oscar nominations in her career, one of the largest counts of any performer ever, and I am nearly done with the list after recently catching her in The Letter.  Bette is one of my favorite actresses-she's versatile in a way that modern performers are, fully-committing to the role (had she rose to fame in the 1950's, she would have certainly been part of the "Method School" of acting), and eschewing her glamour if need be to sink a part.  That's evident in The Letter, the remake of the 1929 film that won Jeanne Eagels a nomination for the same part that won Davis hers, where she totally inhabits the cutthroat Leslie Crosbie.

(Spoilers Ahead) Leslie Crosbie is a married woman in Malaya, who in the opening scene of the film has shot Geoff Hammand, a man we otherwise assume to be "decent" but who Leslie confesses tried to rape her (or in 1940's parlance, "make love to me") and she killed him in self-defense.  While Leslie will stand trial, everyone assumes that she's innocent, and the only person who seems to suspect her story is her attorney Howard Joyce (Stephenson), whose clerk shows him a letter that Leslie wrote to Hammond, asking him to come to see her (implying that they were having an affair).  As the film goes, it turns out that, despite Leslie's shifting story, she was having an affair with Hammond even though they are both married (he's wed to a Eurasian woman played by Sondergaard), and she killed him in a jealous rage.  In the end, Howard buys back the letter, putting his legal career in jeopardy, but it works temporarily-Leslie is acquitted due to lack of evidence.  However, as the film ends, Leslie tells her husband Robert (Marshall) that she still loves Hammond & doesn't love him, and when she enters their garden, she realizes that Mrs. Hammond is there, ready to kill her, which she does...and then is promptly arrested for the crime of enacting revenge on the woman who killed her husband.

I'd already seen the Eagels version of The Letter (you can read about it here), and liked it-Eagels is magnificent, and it's a good part.  The 1940 film is even better, but it struggles because in 1929 you could have a pre-Code ending, and you can't in 1940.  In the Eagels version, the ending is different-the Leslie character lives & gets away with the murder, but her husband keeps her in Malaysia as punishment for her sins rather than letting her return home.  She's left, therefore, in a prison of her own marriage.  It's much more effective than simply having Leslie, who has spent the entire movie crawling over barbed wire to ensure that she doesn't pay for her sins, randomly walk into her own death.  I don't know a better way to have gotten around the Hays Code without changing the court result (which would have totally ruined the plot, since the corrupted justice system is so central to the plot of the film), but the ending nearly ruins the movie, which otherwise is a triumph.

Much of that triumph comes from the two key parts in the film played by Davis & Stephenson.  Davis was born to play the role of a woman like this-she was so good at making complicated women genuinely complicated, rather than having them wither under the male gaze.  She plays her as someone who knows her privilege, who knows her status as a woman-of-good-background, and knows how to wield that power to maximum effect.  The makeup department helps (the heavy smoky eye look just accentuates that "she's got Bette Davis eyes"), but Davis brings a fire to this role, a woman who wants to roll the dice as long as she can to see if she's caught.  Stephenson is equally good as the lawyer drawn into her lair.  Oftentimes with this part he'd be played for a sap, but he goes in willingly, though perhaps not with the same level of knowledge of how bad Leslie is for him until it's too late.  Both were richly deserved Oscar nominations.  The only real weak link in the cast is Sondergaard, who has virtually no words and is heavily into yellowface dramatics that, are, well, pretty racist (you'd be fine fast-forwarding through most of her scenes).

The remaining nominations are all good, though not all equal.  The score is fine-it's a heavy, dramatic score, but it doesn't standout in the way you'd expect a film like this to (this is not Now, Voyager).  The direction is taut & layered, as is the cinematography (so focused on Davis unmoved face, it captures the spirit of her character without her even needing to say a word).  The editing is also strong, though again the Sondergaard sequences needed to be trimmed or played for less dramatics (even in 1940, when the treatment of Sondergaard's character might have been commonplace, it should have been obvious that this was hitting a melodrama that the rest of the film didn't meld with).  I will say, again, that had this been a year where Makeup was a category at the Oscars (that didn't become a competitive field until the early 1980's), I would have cited it, as Davis has never looked better & I think this is one of those moments where the increasingly dramatic makeup (showing her guilt with a heavy mascara pen) is crucial to the character herself.

Friday, June 19, 2020

OVP: What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? (1962)

Film: What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? (1962)
Stars: Bette Davis, Joan Crawford, Victor Buono
Director: Robert Aldrich
Oscar History: 5 nominations/1 win (Best Actress-Bette Davis, Supporting Actor-Victor Buono, Cinematography, Costume*, Sound)
(Not So) Snap Judgment Ranking: 4/5 stars

I promise tomorrow we'll do someone other than Meryl Streep or Bette Davis to finish off our Best Actress week, but I had this in my drafts folder, and couldn't skip the opportunity for such symmetry.  On Tuesday we did the first nomination for Bette Davis, today we're going with the last one.  What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? is cheating a little bit with our theme this week, as I have seen the movie before, though it's been at least 20 years, as I saw it as a teenager, and while I remembered it relatively well (probably better because of watching the TV series Feud more than anything else), there were whole chapters of the movie that I had completely forgotten, including the ending, so it was terrific to revisit this movie years later, and reflect on the last great chapter in the careers of two of my favorite Golden Age actresses, Bette Davis & Joan Crawford.

(Spoilers Ahead) The movie takes place over three different time eras.  The first is when both Blanche (as an adult, Crawford) and Jane (as an adult, Davis), are children, and Baby Jane is a star on the vaudeville circuit.  The little girl is spoiled rotten, and indulged by her father, and treats her entire family with contempt.  As adults, though, the roles are reversed-Jane is an unsuccessful actress in movies, only allowed to make pictures because the studio doesn't want to upset her sister Blanche, who is a big star.  At the peak of her career, Blanche is in a car accident (and we're meant to assume for most of the picture that it's Jane who was driving, as this has passed into urban legend), and is paralyzed, destroying her career.  We then retreat to the present day, where Blanche & Jane live together in an old house, with Jane living off of Blanche's money & mistreating her sister, who isn't able to stop Jane from abusing her (basically by starving, psychologically torturing, and eventually tying up Blanche to prevent her from selling the house and institutionalizing her mentally unwell sister).  The film has a subplot involving a conman named Edwin (Buono) trying to bilk Jane as an accompanist for her ridiculous attempts at a comeback, which combines the two stories when Edwin discovers Blanche bound-and-tied.  The film ends with Blanche confessing that it was she who was driving the car, and trying to run over Jane for her years of cruelty, and in the process ruined both of their lives.  Jane, now fully insane, dances for onlookers as the police arrive.

The movie has entered a whole different level of lore in recent years thank to Ryan Murphy's Emmy-winning series Feud, which chronicled the bitter real-life rivalry between Crawford & Davis, and the filming of this movie and its spiritual sequel Hush...Hush Sweet Charlotte, so it's intriguing to go back to the movie after all of these years and find out it's really good.  There's a certain level of camp that is unavoidable here (hell, movies like Baby Jane basically invented modern camp), but that doesn't mean that it doesn't feel real.  The story is petrifying-you spend most of the movie not sure if Blanche will make it out alive or not, and intrigued by what Jane might do next.  You also have a lot of great throwbacks to Davis & Crawford's careers (this was the final important movie of either of their careers, though they'd both continue working for the next few years, and in Davis' case, the next few decades), including footage of them as younger actors.

The Oscar nominations were all pretty well-earned as well.  The costume work is intriguing, particularly the garish ways that Davis turns Baby Jane into almost a creature dressed as a little girl (this surely would've been a Makeup nominee had that category existed yet).  The sound work is fine, if not quite as inventive; the movie's best sound effect trick is the sort of screeching moment of the car accident between two unknown figures, and then the opening credits come forward announcing a different kind of movie than you might have expected before.  The same can be said for the Cinematography, which has some iconic shots (the final sequence being the most obvious, though Ernest Haller does a good job of making us feel like we're peering into the lives of famous people gone to hell in a way others might not have been able to achieve).

The film won two acting nominations.  I'm always stunned by how young Victor Buono was when this movie was made (he was only 24), and he has a menace to his character even if ultimately it doesn't feel like he has a full-enough grasp on who his character is.  I liked his chemistry with Davis (which ultimately won him this nomination), but his motives other than greed remain unclear, and you are left wondering why he is the way he is.  The script doesn't help here, but neither does Buono.

Davis famously won her 10th and final Oscar nomination for her work here, and was expected to win the Oscar (how she didn't is a story most of you probably know if you've made it this far in this review, but let's just say it's epic).  She's great-she makes Baby Jane a concoction of horror & sympathy all at once, and while she was applauded at the time for letting her vanity go (she makes herself older & uglier to sell the part), it's really the way that she underlines how Baby Jane wasn't allowed to grow up, and the trauma of having success at such a young age, that really sells this movie.  Crawford just missed with the nominations (you have to assume she was sixth place), but is very good in a subtler role.  Yes, she looks awfully glamorous for a shut-in (Crawford, ever vain from being "the most beautiful woman in movies," would try to make herself look better against the wishes of director Bob Aldrich), but she finds great moments in the movie to hint at the woman she might have become without Jane, and to provide hints of the sort of person who would destroy their sister's life for their own mistake.  I loved that scene where she's watching an old movie, complaining, but all-the-while knowing that she looked great & succeeded in a way that her sister never could.  Baby Jane is a legendary movie not because of the offscreen feuds (lord knows countless movies have had costars who despised each other), but because that rivalry didn't stop a truly mesmerizing movie from taking place.

Tuesday, June 16, 2020

OVP: Of Human Bondage (1934)

Film: Of Human Bondage (1934)
Stars: Leslie Howard, Bette Davis, Frances Dee, Kay Johnson
Director: John Cromwell
Oscar History: 1 nomination (Best Actress-Bette Davis...well, kind of-we'll get into it)
Snap Judgment Ranking: 2/5 stars

We continue on our week-long look at nominees in the Best Actress category with someone who, well, wasn't actually an Oscar nominee for Best Actress.  We don't think about this today, because the rule has been dormant for so long, but between 1934 and 1935, write-ins were allowed at the Oscars, and as a result, we have a situation where someone definitely beat one of the nominees (in this case, Davis got more votes for Of Human Bondage than actress Grace Moore for One Night of Love, which was an official nomination), so for the sake of the Oscar Viewing Project, I'm going to count this as a nomination and when we eventually get to it, this performance will be eligible to win the OVP Official Ballot from that year.  This will be true of the nominations the following year for A Midsummer Night's Dream, Captain Blood, G-Men, and Black Fury, all of which got write-in nominations.  I won't include, however, films that didn't beat any of the actual nominees but we know received write-in support; this is basically only one person (Myrna Loy was fifth place in 1934 for The Thin Man, but this was a year where there were only three nominated Best Actresses).  So, in keeping both with the theme and establishing that rule for the Oscar Viewing Project, let's get into Of Human Bondage.

(Spoilers Ahead) The film, based on the novel by W. Somerset Maugham, is about Philip Carey (Howard), a club-footed painter who after being told that he has no talent, decides to become a medical doctor.  He falls madly in love with Mildred (Davis), a foul-mouthed, cruel waitress who treats him like garbage and makes fun of his club foot, but he doesn't see any self-worth in himself (and he loves her, inexplicably), so he lets her treat him like garbage, until she dumps him for another man, and then he falls for a more respectable girl...only to be pulled back into Mildred's lure when another guy dumps her & she needs money or assurance of her worth, and he goes back to her.

This happens a couple of times in the movie.  The strange thing about this movie is that it's based on a truly classic novel (one I haven't read, as Maugham's novels are always a bit of a headache to get through considering he frequently puts himself in the book), but it's not all that original in its execution.  We never entirely get the idea of why Carey is obsessed with Mildred.  Davis, though attractive, is not glamorous or traditionally beautiful like the women who are cast as her "competition" in this film, and she treats Carey poorly.  One might assume in a different era that she had manipulated him through sex (so he was willing to put up with the mistreatment), but in 1934 that's not going to find its way into the plot, so we're left with a perplexing central question here.  We know what Mildred gets out of this (reassurance, food, cash), but not Philip.  This lack of a central question, the repetitive nature of the plot, and Howard's milquetoast performance all add up to kind of a rudimentary movie.

The one thing worth noting in the film is Davis, who finally gets to show off the range that she'd eventually exhibit in movies like Now, Voyager and All About Eve.  It's easy to see why audiences at the time were mesmerized-this is Davis showing what she's capable of, and she's playing a character unlike any other of the era.  She's cruel, loose, indifferent, and horny-it's hard to imagine any other actress of the 1930's even being able to play such a woman.  It does feel, sometimes, like they are awarding the role with this "nomination" more than Davis, or giving it to Davis' potential-she doesn't offer much insight into Mildred's world, and is more at home with the shocking comebacks than she is with trying to make Mildred feel authentic, but it's showy and delicious.  This isn't Davis' best performance, but if I'd seen it in 1934 it would have felt like something seismic; the world was about to recognize one of the great stars of all time, and thus it's not surprising that Oscar felt they needed to bend the rules once she didn't make it into the nominations.

Thursday, May 07, 2020

OVP: Hollywood Canteen (1944)

Film: Hollywood Canteen (1944)
Stars: Joan Leslie, Robert Hutton, Dane Clark, Janis Paige...and enough star cameos to fill the Dorothy Chandler
Director: Delmer Daves
Oscar History: 3 nominations (Best Original Song-"Sweet Dreams, Sweetheart," Scoring, Sound)
Snap Judgment Ranking: 4/5 stars

Weird coincidence time.  Yesterday we discussed Mr. Dodd Takes the Air, a largely forgotten musical picture that was nominated for Best Original Song and features Jane Wyman.  Today, we look at another largely forgotten musical picture...that was nominated for Best Original Song and features Jane Wyman.  Hollywood Canteen, though, isn't lacking for star power in the way Dodd does.  While Dodd's only recognizable face today is Wyman's, she'd be lucky to make the first page of the call sheet for Hollywood Canteen, a Hollywood propaganda (come on-I know that has pejorative connotations, but that's what this is) movie about the film community's contributions to the war effort, specifically Bette Davis & John Garfield's creation of the Hollywood Canteen.

(Spoilers Ahead) For those unfamiliar, during the war, Davis & Garfield helped lead a war effort that would include people from every single studio coming together and giving out dances, food, and entertainment to men that were about to ship out overseas to fight in World War II.  The canteen was ahead of its time in some ways (it was desegregated) and while it was totally publicity for the Hollywood stars who went there (and admittedly had a darker side, as seen in the unsolved homicide of Georgette Beaurdorf), it was genuinely something that stars actually worked at.  All of the actors in this film were people who in real life were helping to keep the lights on at the actual restaurant, so if a GI came to the Canteen, they'd be able to see proper movie stars right up close, potentially serving them dinner.

In this film, we have two GI's returned from the South Pacific, Slim Green (Hutton) and Sergeant Nolan (Clark) who are looking for a good time and, in Slim's case, the girl of his dreams, Joan Leslie.  Of course, when they get there, Slim meets Leslie (played by the actress herself) and he wins first a kiss with her, and then a weekend date with the actress (in real life this would have been strictly forbidden-there were rules about the girls going home with the soldiers).  They fall in love, while Nolan continually strikes out until he falls for a tour guide (played by Janis Paige in one of her very first roles), with Slim shipping out, but Joan promising they'll meet again after the war.

The movie is shameless in the way it tries to glamorize the dangerous aspects of the war.  There's literally a scene where Nolan claims that he could walk without a cane all thanks to meeting Janis Paige's character at the Hollywood Canteen.  The film's plot is flimsy, a little creepy (it sure feels like Joan Leslie is being forced, while not into prostitution, at least into uncomfortable situations with a man who borders on stalking her), and more-than-once feels like it's simply Hollywood trying to justify itself during a time of great moral duress & uncertainty.

Here's the thing though, you're not going to care, because the film in the first half is about as much fun as a classic film fan can have (the second half is where it makes the mistake of trying to have a plot).  You see more stars than I could count, some of the highlights being Davis, Garfield, Wyman, Barbara Stanwyck, Joan Crawford, Paul Henreid, Peter Lorre, Jack Benny, Sydney Greenstreet, Ida Lupino, Alexis Smith, and Roy Rogers all showing up in clever cameos, with Crawford arguably getting the best one (you can see her scene here), and it is divine.  This isn't like Around the World in 80 Days where you have to guess-the stars are very much introduced in ridiculously expository ways, but it's magical.  Never mind that some of these actors probably hated each other and weren't this nice & naturally charming in real life...it's bliss every time a new personality comes on to show us the star power going on at Warner Brothers during this era.

The film won three nominations, all of which are fine, if not groundbreaking.  The best of the three is Scoring, as a host of musicians and notable bands make cameos & bring us great numbers, including Rogers, the Andrews Sisters, Joan McCrackon, and the Jimmy Dorsey Orchestra.  It's not all original, but it's a blast.  The nominated song (sung in the film first by Leslie, and later by Kitty Carlisle), is kind of maudlin, and a bit too schmaltzy for my tastes, but all of the film with that music and the frequent crowd scenes handle the sound well.  All-in-all, this isn't a great movie, but man is it one I'd highly recommend for anyone who loves old cinema, as it's the closest you'll probably ever get to walking onto a backlot.

Thursday, October 31, 2019

12 More Famous Unsolved Holllywood Deaths

It is Halloween, and I had every intention this month of doing another mini-series devoted to something spooky (and film-connected), but alas time got away from me and I will probably pocket the idea until next year.  But I don't want to leave you hanging, so I'm going to be talking about something else sinister, and conclude a trilogy of articles we started way back in April: our look at some of the most famous of unsolved Hollywood murders.

If you're behind please check out the first two installments in this series here and here, as they're definitely up your alley if you're interested in either Hollywood or true crime (or both!).  I could arguably continue this series indefinitely, as there's countless crimes in the Los Angeles area that would have connections to the movies, but I feel a trilogy is the best way to sum this up.  Starting to look at whom or what I might include in a fourth article, I realized we were getting more just into local crimes, rather than finding a proper Hollywood connection, and as this is a film blog rather than one associated with crime articles exclusively, I figured it would be appropriate to finish this series in three acts.

Since this is our finale on Hollywood homicides, we're going to get to eight crimes that I think are lesser-known, but fascinating.  They involve an Oscar-winning actress who (might) have had some connection with her husband's death, an Oscar-winning actor who (might) have killed a comedy pioneer, and the strange death of an Oscar-winning actor who (might) have been killed on the orders of a dictator; we'll also look at a death of a famous adult film star who almost certainly wasn't murdered, but whose whereabouts (and questions around whether she's alive or dead) are too bizarre not to discuss.  And since this is the final installment in our series, I'm going to acquiesce and include in the article four of Hollywood's most famous deaths, all of whom have inspired conspiracy theories for years, and we'll discuss why I don't entirely buy them (even if the deaths might have some intriguing unanswered questions).  As I mentioned in our past installments, this obviously involves some heavy subject matter, so if you're light-of-heart I suggest you read at your own risk.

Nick Adams

The Hollywood Connection: Adams was a bit player in Hollywood that stayed on the periphery of fame while never become as iconic as some of his costars.  Among his best-known work is The Rebel, an ABC western that ran for two seasons & Twilight of Honor, where he plays an alleged killer obsessed with Joey Heatherton.  Twilight won him an Oscar nomination, but Adams is best remembered today for his friendships with (and rumored romances with) two 1950's superstars: James Dean & Elvis Presley.
The Murder(?): On February 7, 1968, Adams was found dead by his attorney Ervin Roeder at his home in Beverly Hills.  Well-known coroner Thomas Noguchi (he'd also perform the autopsies on Marilyn Monroe, Sharon Tate, & Natalie Wood) performed the autopsy, and said Adams died of "accident/suicide/unknown" due to excessive amounts of sedatives and drugs in Adams's system.
Why It's Unsolved: Occam's razor dictates that Adams killed himself or accidentally overdosed on drugs.  This seems to be what Noguchi discovered in his medical reports, and is backed up by actress Susan Strasberg (who saw Adams the night he died) who said he was despondent over his failing career and marriage.  However, rumors persist to this day that Adams death was more nefarious.  There was gossip at the time that Adams was going to write a tell-all (his career was going nowhere, so a tell-all would have been a source of cash for a work-strapped actor), and considering his potential romantic entanglements with people like Presley & Dean (never mind any other better-kept secrets), there would have been a considerable amount of sway to keep his knowledge of Hollywood's closeted community a secret...potentially at all costs.


Arthur Farnsworth

The Hollywood Connection: Farnsworth himself had no connection to Hollywood-he had been just a normal New Hampshire innkeeper before his death.  However his wife happened to be one of the most famous women in the world when they married: screen legend & two-time Oscar winner Bette Davis.  Farnsworth was Davis's second husband, and her only marriage that didn't end in divorce, though it may have ended in something more nefarious: murder.
The Murder(?): Farnsworth died on August 25, 1943.  Initial reports at the time were that he had died of a brain hemorrhage, possibly as a result of falling on the sidewalk on Hollywood Boulevard.  However, after Farnsworth died, Davis was questioned by police about whether or not an accident had occurred earlier involving Farnsworth.
Why It's Unsolved: Despite initial media accounts at the time (including in the LA Times), stating that Farnsworth died as a result of falling on the sidewalk on Hollywood Boulevard, it's probable that Farnsworth died as a result of an accident he'd sustained a few weeks earlier, when he had fallen down a flight of stairs in the couple's New Hampshire home.  Davis at the time claimed that Farnsworth had fallen when he rushed too quickly to answer the phone, but there are some who believe that Davis and Farnsworth had been fighting at the time, and that Davis during the fight had pushed Farnsworth down the stairs, ultimately leading to his death.  It does seem odd, especially considering initial reports about the Hollywood Boulevard incident (where Davis was not in attendance) that Davis was questioned by police investigators at all in the inquest of Farnsworth's death if they had assumed it was simply a brain hemorrhage caused by an accident.  It's worth noting that 16 years later Joan Crawford, Davis's longtime rival, also had a husband (Alfred Steele) who may have died as a result of being pushed down a flight of stairs, though those allegations from from her daughter Christina Crawford, whose stories about her mother have varied through the years, and as a result have a question of credibility.

Sean Flynn

The Hollywood Connection: Flynn briefly worked as an actor and singer in the early 1960's.  He had a small role in Where the Boys Are opposite George Hamilton, and made a number of films in Europe, most notably The Son of Captain Blood, a sequel to a film his father, actor Errol Flynn, made into a smash hit for Warner Brothers in the mid-1930's.
The Murder(?): By the late 1960's, Flynn's acting career was going nowhere, and it seemed like his passion was more for photojournalism than entertainment anyway.  He was gaining fame as a war correspondent in both Vietnam and Israel.  On April 6, 1970, Flynn and CBS News photojournalist Dana Stone were headed out on intel that the Viet Cong were manning a checkpoint on Highway 1.  The two were never seen again.
Why It's Unsolved: Flynn and Stone were likely two of 25 journalists that were captured during the initial invasion of Cambodia by Richard Nixon in 1970; but according to people who were there that day like AP correspondent Jeff Williams, there's even some speculation over whether or not they were even captured.  Several of the 25 journalists were executed by the Khmer Rouge, but there has never been any evidence as to whether or not Flynn & Stone were killed, arguably the most well-known figures to disappear at the time (but by no means the only ones).  Journalist Tim Page, who was Flynn's roommate (and the inspiration for Dennis Hopper's character in Apocalypse Now!) is still searching for Flynn's remains, with frequent and constant trips to Cambodia.  In 2010, a body was found, but members of the Flynn family (including Sean's sister Rory) were tested and the DNA was not a match, so it's still not known what happened to Sean Flynn, how he was killed, or even if he's dead at all.

Ted Healy

The Hollywood Connection: Healy enjoyed a long career as a comedian and vaudeville performer, but he is best remembered for creating the Three Stooges.  He starred with them in the film Soup to Nuts, but after a contract dispute, Healy abandoned the comedy group, and signed a contract for MGM, where he worked alongside Spencer Tracy, Robert Young, and Peter Lorre before his death.
The Murder: On December 21, 1937, Healy died while out celebrating the birth of his son, the only child he'd ever have.  Official reports at the time were that he died of acute nephritis, triggered by his chronic alcoholism, but a lot of questions surround Healy's death and the events that happened immediately before he died, enough so that over 70 years after his passing, some still wonder if he was the victim of something more sinister.
Why It's Unsolved: According to reports at the time, Healy had been in a fight the night of his death, and had injuries on his face, including a cut near his right eye.  Reports were that Healy had been in a fight with some men at the Trocadero, then a well-known Los Angeles night club.  These reports were initially that Healy had fought with three anonymous younger men, but later reports indicated far more famous individuals had fought with Healy: Oscar-winning actor Wallace Beery, producer Albert Broccoli, and Broccoli's cousin, another film producer Pat DiCicco (whom you may remember for his connection to another well-known unsolved Hollywood crime, the death of actress Thelma Todd).  Enough questions surrounded Healy's death that his personal physician refused to sign the death certificate, and if you believe Hollywood lore, MGM fixer Eddie Mannix covered up the incident (Beery was under a star contract to the studio at the time) to save face for one of their leading men.  While Beery & DiCicco have never confessed to seeing Healy that evening, Broccoli has-he admitted to being at the Trocadero, and that he fought with Healy but denied it being particularly aggressive.  If Healy's death was in fact triggered by the fight, rather than his chronic alcoholism, it's entirely possible one of these three men were responsible for his death.


Christa Helm

The Hollywood Connection: Helm was a bit player in Hollywood, making guest spots on shows like Starsky & Hutch and Wonder Woman.  However, her offscreen life reads like a who's who of Hollywood elite; among her paramours were Mick Jagger and Warren Beatty, as well as famous (non-movie star figures) like the Shah of Iran.
The Murder: Helm died on February 12, 1977 at the age of just 27.  She had been stabbed and bludgeoned to death outside of her agent's home in West Hollywood.  Actor Jon Gries, then just 19, lived nearby, and later described hearing a noise coming from near where Helm was being murdered similar to "a screaming baby or a cat being killed," but frightened, he didn't call the police or go to investigate.
Why It's Unsolved: At the time, the press were more enamored with the connections between Helm and another Hollywood murder, that of Sal Mineo exactly one year prior to Helm's (at the time, Mineo's murder was still unsolved).  However, the press soon lost interest in the Mineo angle, and focus then turned onto the most salacious & mysterious aspect of Christa Helm's death: her sex diary.  Helm, who as we already stated had a number of famous lovers, had kept a sex diary and a collection of sex tapes that were not found after her death.  Police have alleged that Tony Sirico (the actor who played Paulie Walnuts on The Sopranos), then a small-time criminal, was hired by someone to remove the tapes, either to protect Helm or to protect someone who would be implicated in the diaries/videos.  Suspects in the killing range from Sirico to Helm's agent Sandy Smith to drug dealer Rudy Mazella (with whom Helm was allegedly involved romantically) to another lover, backup singer Patti Collins (DNA evidence under Helm's fingernails from the night of the murder came from a woman) to even Lionel Williams, the man who murdered Sal Mineo (it seems that initial rumors that Williams was arrested at the time of Helm's murder were inaccurate, and so the alibi that is allotted to him on some articles about Helm's death isn't real), but no one has ever conclusively proven who killed Christa Helm, despite decades of investigation.

Bruce Lee

The Hollywood Connection: Lee is noted as a major star of martial arts films of the 1970's, including the landmark Enter the Dragon.  In Hollywood, he didn't make his mark before his death, though he did have a role on the ABC comic book series The Green Hornet as Kato.
The Murder(?): Lee died on July 20, 1973, officially of a cerebral edema at the age of only 32.  He had had dinner earlier that evening with actor George Lazenby, and after dinner Lee had complained of a headache.  He was given a painkiller (Equagesic), and according to doctor's later, had something of an allergic reaction to the drug, causing the cerebral edema, which killed him.
Why It's Unsolved: On the facts, this is how Lee died.  Just a few months earlier he'd suffered another cerebral edema while on the set of Enter the Dragon, and so there was clearly a medical history here that would indicate this was an unfortunate accident involving a man who already had health problems.  But in the decades since, rumors have persisted that Lee was murdered, though the culprit depends on whom you ask.  Some think that his business partner Raymond Chow did it (Chow did see Lee the day he died, for what it's worth), while other think it was actress Betty Ging Pei, with many positing that Lee was having an affair with her.  Others have blamed gangs like the Chinese Triads, upset that Lee was sharing long-held martial arts secrets.  These all seem fanciful to me, particularly since Lee clearly had a medical history that would support his tragic death at such a young age.  But it's impossible to read about Lee, particularly after the equally tragic death of his son Brandon on the film set of The Crow, without someone bringing up his death as "mysterious," so I include this because no list of "unusual" Hollywood deaths would be complete without Bruce Lee.


Jenny Maxwell

The Hollywood Connection: Maxwell is best-remembered today for her small but memorable role in the Elvis Presley musical Blue Hawaii.  She also starred with Jimmy Stewart in Take Her, She's Mine, and had guest appearances on Father Knows Best, The Twilight Zone, and The Joey Bishop Show.  Maxwell's celebrity never took off, and she retired from the movies in 1963, essentially become a "trophy wife" to the much older Ervin Roeder, a wealthy attorney.
The Murder: On the afternoon of June 10, 1981, Maxwell and Roeder were shot in their Beverly Hills condo.  Police at the time assumed it was a botched robbery, with the young actress dead at the age of only 39.
Why It's Unsolved: Little is known about the crime, probably because there's not much evidence to indicate that Maxwell or Roeder were specifically targeted by someone they know.  Most people assumed that the murders were part of an apparent robbery, but that's speculation-based on newspaper reports of the time and according to articles afterward, there doesn't appear to be any indication that anything was actually taken from the home.  What is worth noting, in the confines of this article, is that Roeder also had another very famous client at one point, Nick Adams, so both men ended up dying in unusual circumstances.

Marilyn Monroe

The Hollywood Connection: Forgetting the fact that she starred in films like All About Eve, Bus Stop, Some Like It Hot, and The Misfits, Monroe essentially is Hollywood at this point, her visage being on everything from slot machines to doormats.  More than pretty much any other star, she encompasses a type of glamour that is synonymous with the Golden Era.
The Murder(?): Monroe died on August 4, 1962, at her Brentwood mansion.  She was found dead by her housekeeper Eunice Murray and psychiatrist Ralph Greenson the following die, and the coroner's report eventually stated that she had died of acute barbiturate poisoning, with the coroner ruling her death a suicide.
Why It's Unsolved: Marilyn Monroe probably committed suicide.  It's the most likely scenario, and considering the troubled life the starlet had led, one with a good deal of credibility.  But Monroe was SO famous, it's hard for anyone to imagine her taking her own life, and so it's worth noting that conspiracy theories abound about her death, so since we're closing out this series about Hollywood True Crime, I couldn't ignore the most famous "what happened?" death in Hollywood history.  The most common conspiracies center around Monroe's relationships with John & Robert Kennedy, who were President and Attorney General, respectively, when Monroe died, and legend has it that both had a sexual relationship with Monroe at some point.  Allegations that Bobby Kennedy in particular either used his connections at the CIA/FBI to have Monroe assassinated, or that someone murdered Monroe to get to the Kennedy Brothers have been rumored for decades, being shared by everyone from Norman Mailer to British journalist Anthony Summers.  While there is enough smoke there to assume that an affair with at least one Kennedy brother probably occurred, the legend of Monroe potentially being murdered (a fate that would eventually befall both brothers) continues to persist nearly sixty years after her death.


Haing Ngor

The Hollywood Connection: A former doctor who survived for years in Cambodian prison camps, Ngor made his film debut portraying journalist Dith Pran in 1984's The Killing Fields, which won him the Academy Award for Best Supporting Actor, with him beating longtime thespians like John Malkovich and Ralph Richardson for the trophy.
The Murder: Ngor was shot to death on February 25, 1996, in Los Angeles near his home in Chinatown.  According to prosecutors, three men held him at gunpoint and after he gave them his gold Rolex, they murdered him because he wouldn't give them a locket which held a photo of his deceased wife.
Why It's Unsolved: In some ways, it's not-unlike every other crime on this list, we actually have a conviction and know who killed Haing Ngor, as the three men who shot him (Tak Sun Tan, Jason Chan, & Indra Lim) were convicted and are currently serving their sentences for his murder.  However, there are enough strange questions around Ngor's death to include him on an "unsolved" list, namely as to why he might have been murdered seemingly at random.  For starters, Ngor still had nearly $3000 on him after his death, making a robbery by the three men seem at the very least very poorly executed.  Ngor also didn't typically have the locket visible (he usually wore it under his clothes), so how did the men, who claimed they didn't know who he was, know that he would be wearing it & demand he give it to them?  Some have speculated that Ngor was killed on Pol Pot's orders for his involvement in the film The Killing Fields, a theory posited by former Khmer Rouge leader (and, it should be remembered, war criminal) Kang Kek Iew.  It seems a stretch that Pol Pot, who was still alive when Ngor died and was still ordering executions (in 1997 he ordered the murders of his associate and his entire family), might want to kill a man who had been in a movie critical of him twelve years prior, but considering the questions surrounding Ngor's death, it's worth wondering.

Nicole Brown Simpson & Ronald Goldman

The Hollywood Connection: As if I need to tell you this, but it's not Nicole Brown Simpson or Ronald Goldman who had the connection to Hollywood, but instead Brown Simpson's ex-husband OJ, who would go from being a Heisman Trophy winner to star Buffalo Bills running-back to one of the more successful athlete-actor crossover stars, appearing in movies/television as varied as The Towering Inferno, Roots, Capricorn One, and The Naked Gun franchise.
The Murder: On June 12, 1994, Brown Simpson and Goldman were stabbed to death outside of her home in Brentwood.  Both individuals had been stabbed repeatedly, with Brown Simpson nearly decapitated from the homicide, and Goldman's cut shoes indicating he had tried (but failed) to overcome his assailant.  Over 25 years later, no one has ever been convicted of their deaths, and the case remains officially unsolved.
Why It's Unsolved: I avoided talking about Marilyn Monroe, Bruce Lee, and Johnny Stompanato because I feel that the most-likely answer to these questions is that they're solved, with the former two having died tragically but not as the result of homicide, and the latter dying in an act of self-defense.  Nicole Brown Simpson & Ron Goldman, though, were definitely murdered, but I have kept their murders out of previous installments because this is a case (if you lived through it) you know by heart.  In many ways this was the birth-place of the 24-hour news cycle as something to be mocked, constant discussions of the crimes dominating cable news in a harbinger of things to come.  For those who have lived under a rock or are under thirty, the question of what happened to these two boils down to if you believe OJ Simpson murdered his ex-wife and her friend (and potential lover).  Simpson was headed to Chicago the night of the crime, but his limousine driver claimed that he couldn't get ahold of Simpson right away, and that while he was waiting for the football player Simpson's Ford Bronco had moved (thus affording Simpson opportunity to commit the crimes).  Simpson had a history of abuse toward his ex-wife, and had claimed that he'd "thought about killing her" in the past, but he was not convicted after an extensive trial (I could devote an article this length just to the Simpson case, but you can find a hundred books on it if you wish to learn more).  Jurors on the trial claimed afterward that they thought Simpson had been involved in the murders, but that the prosecution had failed in making their case.  Public perception in the years since has favored the idea that Simpson got away with his wife's murder, particularly after the release of the book If I Did It, where Simpson posited how he might have killed his ex-wife, but double jeopardy is in place even if he did kill the two individuals.  Simpson would go on to be charged with armed robbery, serving a ten-year sentence, and would continue to maintain his innocence, as would a number of others (the most common alternate theory being that Brown Simpson & Goldman were connected to a drug trafficking crime that also was connected to the death of Michael Nigg, whose murder we looked at in Part 2 of this series).  Whatever your beliefs, the deaths of Brown Simpson & Goldman stand as one of the most discussed crimes in Hollywood history, and remain (officially) unsolved.


Johnny Stompanato

The Hollywood Connection: Stompanato had very little himself to do with Hollywood, as he was a former Marine who was part of Mickey Cohen's crime syndicate when he died.  However, in 1957, Stompanato began a relationship with one of the biggest stars in Hollywood, Lana Turner.  Turner, at this point in her career, had been a major player in Hollywood for 15 years, having starred in movies such as The Postman Always Rings Twice, The Bad and the Beautiful, and Peyton Place.
The Murder: Leading up to the night of the Academy Awards in 1958, Stompanato's behavior toward Turner had turned extremely violent, with him choking her.  At the Oscar ceremony (where Turner was nominated for Best Actress for her work in Peyton Place), Turner decided to take her daughter Cheryl Crane instead of Stompanato, which caused him to be angry when she returned, and he beat her again.  Eight days later, on April 4, 1958, according to reports at the time, Stompanato was again violently attacking Turner, even threatening to slice up the beautiful actress's face with a razor (which would have ended her career), when Crane stabbed Stompanato through the stomach while he was attacking her mother.
Why It's Unsolved: Here's the thing-it's not.  I wrote up-top that four of these stories I wanted to discuss because they were too big to leave out before we concluded our look at unsolved Hollywood crimes, but the Stompanato case came back with Crane being exonerated, a case of justifiable homicide.  This is the most likely scenario, considering Stompanato's history of abusing Turner, and threatening both she and her daughter with violence.  However, there are those who believe that the crime was premeditated, a way for Turner to get Stompanato out of the picture without having him (who was reportedly blackmailing her with nude photos he'd taken without her consent) expose intimate secrets about her life, thus ruining her career.  There are also those who believe that Crane took the fall for her mother, believing that a teenage girl would be more easily exonerated.  If this is indeed the case, the only person who would know is Cheryl Crane, still alive at 76 and recently married to her longtime partner Joyce.  Despite the bad press at the time (with the skeptics claiming Turner "acted" on the stand), her stardom was back at a high point a year later, when the actress would act in the biggest hit of her career, Imitation of Life.


Bambi Woods

The Hollywood Connection: Woods's connection to Hollywood is not because she was a star or even bit player at a Hollywood studio, but because she came to fame during the 1970's heyday of pornography playing in mainstream cinemas.  Woods starred in one of the era's best-remembered films, Debbie Does Dallas, which would go on to become the best-selling pornographic film of all-time.
The Death(?): As stated above, I wanted to profile one Hollywood disappearance/death that has a lot of questions behind it, but almost certainly didn't end in murder-that would be what happened to Bambi Woods.  Woods completely disappeared from the public eye in the mid-1980's, and her fate has never been revealed.
Why It's Unsolved: It's not entirely clear at this point if Woods (who would be 64) is still alive or not.  According to an Australian newspaper entitled The Age Woods died in 1986 from a drug overdose (they did the article to mark a musical version of the movie Debbie Does Dallas being released).  A later documentary from the British Channel 4 claimed that a private investigator had found the actual Woods, and that she was living an ordinary life in Des Moines, Iowa, under a different name where people didn't know her connections to the porn industry, but this was rebutted by internet site Yes But No But Yes that interviewed a woman claiming to be Woods who was not from Iowa, but said the rest of the story was largely true-that she was living under an assumed name.  Suffice it to say, no one has ever come up with conclusive proof of what happened to Woods or if she's even still alive, and the film's director has never revealed what her real name was.  The mystery surrounding her death is amplified by other nefarious aspects of the film (one of Woods's costars, Arcadia Lake, died of a drug overdose, and the film was produced by mob boss Michael Zaffarano), but even by itself-the fate of Bambi Woods is a really odd mystery that has persisted for over thirty years.

Saturday, January 05, 2019

The Man Who Came to Dinner (1942)

Film: The Man Who Came to Dinner (1942)
Stars: Bette Davis, Ann Sheridan, Monty Woolley, Richard Travis, Jimmy Durante, Billie Burke
Director: William Keighley
Oscar History: No nominations
Snap Judgment Reaction: 5/5 stars

We will start our "Saturdays with the Stars" series focusing on Ann Sheridan by looking at one of her better-remembered movies The Man Who Came to Dinner (if you have no idea what I'm talking about, click here & like Clarissa, I explain it all).  While they never seem to be as popular in modern cinemas (thanks to Hallmark & Lifetime, they've become hopelessly generic and almost comically interchangeable), a really strong holiday classic can have legs that most movies can only dream of, and while The Man Who Came to Dinner is hardly in the same pop culture class as It's a Wonderful Life or White Christmas, it still plays with regularity on TCM and is one of the few films of this era where Sheridan shares top-billing with a woman, not a man, as this is one of two Christmas classics starring Bette Davis (the other being Pocketful of Miracles).  Of course, for anyone familiar with the film, it is neither Davis nor Sheridan who deserve the top billing here, but instead the curmudgeonly (and until this point in his career almost completely-unknown) Monty Woolley as Sheridan Whiteside.

(Spoilers Ahead) The film focuses on Woolley's Whiteside, a noted humorist and radio personality who is famous for his acid tongue & sharp impatience with anyone that isn't himself.  Whiteside is on a speaking tour much to his chagrin, and is forced to have lunch at the home of Mrs. Ernest Stanley (Burke), but when walking into the house, he slips and falls on the front steps.  The doctor orders him to stay in bed, and as a result both he and his secretary Maggie (Davis) have to stay in the small town, with Woolley barking orders at his hosts, their staff, and his poor beleaguered nurse (naturally played by character actor Mary Wickes, as this was the only part she ever seemed to play, but did it with aplomb).  Maggie quite likes the situation, though, as she falls for a young newspaper man named Bert (Travis), and decides to quit her post, which forces Whiteside to pretend he hasn't recovered, in hopes of scheming a way to keep her on as his secretary.  His plan involves recruiting gold-digging actress Lorraine Sheldon (Sheridan) to come and try and steal Bert away from Maggie, which she doesn't succeed in doing (during one of many comic set pieces in the film, she is trapped in a sarcophagus after a change-of-heart by Whiteside and Jimmy Durante, basically playing himself). The film ends in proper Christmas fashion with Bert & Maggie in love, and Whiteside finding some empathy for the world around him...which quickly disappears as he slips on the front steps again & as a result is forced to go back to staying at the house with the Stanleys.

The film is a riot, and one I wish more people had caught (it was an awesome way to start our new series).  Based on the play by Moss Hart & George S. Kaufman, the movie is hilarious and wry, with Woolley, Davis, and Sheridan in sharp form (Travis is mostly there to be handsome, which he does exceedingly well).  I had never seen a film of Woolley's prior to this, and was surprised I knew so little about him.  The actor enjoyed a brief bit of fame after this picture, almost always playing snobs, and won two Oscar nominations before his cache wore off.  It's rare to find an actor starring opposite Bette Davis that can keep up with the bitchiness, but Woolley delivers, and I am excited to see more of him (one has to wonder if The Pied Piper nomination he won in 1942 was more a joint effort for his work here, as Whiteside is completely worthy of an Oscar nomination).

Our Star of the Month gets high billing, but is decidedly the third lead of the film (I picked the films based on billing, not actually knowing the content of the pictures).  Sheridan is sly fun as a broadly-played "glamour girl," and since I'm so unfamiliar with her (I've only seen one other movie she's made), I don't know if this is a departure for her or not (all of our other films with her this month will be dramas).  She has a great dynamic with Woolley & Davis, and while she isn't quite in their league, she rings out every joke with ace timing and I am already a bit of a fan-we'll see next week if she can succeed in arguably her most well-regarded film, but we're off to a good start with The Man Who Came to Dinner.

Each month, as part of our Saturdays with the Stars series, we highlight a different actress of Hollywood's Golden Age.  This month, our focus is on Ann Sheridan-click here to learn more about Ms. Sheridan (and why I picked her), and click here for other Saturdays with the Stars articles.

Monday, May 08, 2017

Five Thoughts on Feud

Yes, I'm aware I'm two weeks late on this, but if you knew what my actual life was like, you'd be expressing nothing but sympathy this morning for me.  I'll be honest here-I haven't been to a movie in weeks.  Quite frankly, I haven't seen a movie in weeks-I can't actually remember the last time that I've gone this long without catching a movie either in theaters or at home (literally, cannot remember), which if you can tell, messes a bit with my head.  That's how insane my work life has been in the past few weeks.  But I'm trying to be back and write a bit more on the blog (and gain control over other facets of my life in the process), and timely or not, I want to share my thoughts on the now finished first season of Feud.  Boiling below are the five main takeaways from the series.

1. This Was a Really Cool Concept...That Didn't Really Work

The problem for me with complaining about Feud is that it's a miracle that the show was made at all. In a sign that Ryan Murphy is now so powerful he can get anything greenlit (joining the likes of JJ Abrams and Shonda Rhimes in that regard), we managed to somehow get a story about two major film stars of the 1940's in their twilight years made for television, despite neither of them having a major cache with younger audiences in the way that, say, James Dean or Marilyn Monroe have today.  It's a miracle that the show was made at all, and really cool.  I love the idea that we can venture into a slice-of-life biopic for a television miniseries in such a way, and in particular about two of my favorite actresses.

I just wish it had been better made.  I haven't, admittedly, seen The People vs. OJ Simpson (which I hear just marvelous things about), but biopics are tough for television.  We know how they're going to go, so there's few surprises, and particularly with Murphy there, you can't stray that far from the ostentatious nature of the series into flights-of-fancy, which has been his raison d'ĂȘtre.  Love or hate shows like American Horror Story or Glee, but they don't let reality get in the way of a bold idea, and I frequently felt like he either repeated himself as a creator on Feud, or he made the series too muted. Take the constant back-and-forth between Crawford and Davis throughout the show.  What initially was trashy fun became boring after so many weeks-it would have helped, perhaps, if we'd occasionally gotten out of their cocoon (seen other relics of Hollywood from their era and what was happening to them at the time like Greta Garbo or Loretta Young), but the tight lens on Crawford (and to a lesser extent Davis) got boring after a while, and you mostly wanted to see where things landed rather than enjoy the ride.

2. The Leads are a Big Part of the Problem.

One of the biggest problems in the show may have been the two leading ladies.  For a while I thought the show might get around the age gap (Crawford and Davis were both considerably younger than Lange or Sarandon in real life, making it seem more urgent for them to keep working), and largely it wasn't a problem, but other things got in the way instead with this specific casting.

For starters, Lange played Joan Crawford the same way she played Fiona Goode or Elsa Mars-a woman looking back on the regrets of her life through the lens of lost youth.  The way she played Crawford, it was hard to fathom that at one time she was at the top of her field and a major movie star force.  This is partially the writer's problem-Crawford as written seemed to only get her power through her movie star beauty, not through talent or sheer determination, but that wasn't true in real life, and more importantly it doesn't really work with some of the things she demands later in the picture.  Forget for a second that she doesn't look or sound or act anything like the meticulous but always glamorous Crawford (the scene where she tells off a fan stuck in my craw as Crawford was unusually devoted to her fans to the end), and think instead about how she's constantly struggling with vanity, and yet has the audacity to march into Jack Warner's office or meet with her agents and tell them all to go to hell.  It's an easy out to blame it on her drinking, but she's hardly a believable figure, someone who has to be constantly reassured of her worth, and Lange plays her the same as she plays every other Ryan Murphy creation.  She's giving a good performance (Lange is a very good actress, and Murphy has stumbled upon an aspect of her talents that I hadn't expected based on her cinematic work), but we've been here before-this is not Lange stretching any muscles.  I won't quibble with an Emmy nomination, but the idea that she's doing something that's anywhere as close to what Reese Witherspoon or Nicole Kidman were doing in Big Little Lies is absurd.  If she beats either it will be a travesty.

Sarandon, on the other hand, is not giving a great performance.  I admittedly am sour on her after the election, and don't know if I'm going to gain back the respect I had for her, but only a fool would say the woman can't act-in the 1990's she was consistently mesmerizing.  But here she can't quite find Davis-she alternates between actually playing her (doing the voice, the walk, the very distinctive Davis persona) and then randomly throwing it out the window.  She, again, isn't helped by the writers (I didn't like her relationship with BD Hyman, and Kiernan Shipka has been better before...not to mention the writers' really want this to be the Joan Crawford Story so her screentime is oddly inconsistent), but this is more on her than them.  She can't seem to find her opinions of her daughter, herself, her costar-Sarandon is a movie star whatever else may be said about her, and that sometimes carries the day, but most of the time she was just dull in the role.  Also, the role really hinges on Davis being the talent, but not the beauty, and, well, Sarandon at 70 is still intensely attractive and foxy in a way that Davis, though lovely, never was.  It hurts your argument when she's repeatedly being called "not the glamorous one" when Sarandon herself always looks glamorous.

With neither she nor Lange really carrying the show to a special place, and the writers' slacking off during stretches of time, the show is difficult to save.  However, there is one special performer who will deserve the plaudits coming her way...

3. Judy Davis is the Best Thing about Feud

This is hardly a revelatory surprise, but man is Judy Davis so much better than pretty much everything else happening in Feud.  Davis at once gets the weird balancing problem between straight drama, melodrama, and camp that Murphy is unsuccessfully juggling, and says "to hell with that" vamping onto the screen and making Hopper into an actual character by playing her initially as a cartoon.

Seriously-the best structured scenes of the show are around Davis's Hopper instigating mischief.  It's a pity that the show didn't use that, quite frankly, as a framing device, or simply made a Hedda Hopper miniseries instead, as Davis's character seems to have enough skeletons and delusions come out that Murphy's initial idea about the cruelty of Hollywood could have been filmed through her lens (plus, her legendary feud with Louella Parsons would have gone along with the title).  We get hints from Davis that Hopper is aware that her glory days are over, that she can no longer compete with the teenybopper set and is instead using the fall of her former friends to stay in the limelight, but unlike Lange or Sarandon, she knows what Hopper's public and private faces look like, and is always keeping them separate.  She hasn't survived in Hollywood all of these years giving out information like chewing gum, or not being willing to stab a friend in the back one day and ask them for a favor the next.

No one else approaches Davis.  I quite liked Alison Wright's Pauline, even though she felt underwritten and only came out as a convenient plot point to move Joan Crawford along in one direction or the other.  Dominic Burgess was initially aces as Victor Buono, giving us perhaps the most Ryan Murphy moment of the show (the XXX theater where he says that Dylan Wittrock has "loads of potential" made me do a spit take...and also start following Dylan Wittrock on Instagram), but he's never as fun or saucy as he was in that initial appearance, and the writers quickly forget about him when he isn't feeding plot change ideas to Davis.  Stanley Tucci and Alfred Molina have their moments, but neither win you over quite like Davis does-there's not enough fire or time spent with them for us to see something special happening.  That being said, no one is as bad as a pair of actresses who should know better.

4. The Interview Aspect of the Show Was Abysmal

Interviews as narrational devices are lazy, and have become aggravating in recent years (The Office was an actual documentary, something they acknowledged within the confines of the plot, unlike Parks and Recreation and Modern Family).  Here it's a part of the plot, but totally unnecessary.  All it did was frame up the story, which the writers could have done anyway, and took away from building on supporting players like Buono or Pauline that might have made the experience a little bit fuller.

It has to be said, as well, that Kathy Bates and Catherine Zeta-Jones (playing Joan Blondell and Olivia de Havilland, respectively) are dreadful in their parts.  Bates seems to have become contractually obligated to appear in all Murphy shows, but what was the point of having Joan Blondell even in the series other than to show off that the writers have heard of her?  We never get a background look at her, she's not in Baby Jane or Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte-hell, why not have Bates play Agnes Moorehead instead?  It made zilch sense, and she phones in the role, never really breathing any extra life into it even though you can hardly blame her since the writers don't seem to care.

CZJ at least has a character that factors into the plot, but man is she out-of-practice.  She's beautiful, and arguably the only person playing someone relatively age appropriate of the leading ladies (de Havilland and Zeta-Jones both being in their mid-to-late forties for pivotal scenes in the picture), but she finds nothing in de Havilland other than what is on the paper.  It gets so bad that when she does her Lady in a Cage impression it's hard to tell whether or not she's acting poorly on-purpose to mock the film or whether this is her actually acting.  For someone who has (and earned) her Oscar, this is a travesty-if she wants to continue working, I'd honestly recommend a tune-up with an acting coach of some sorts.

It wasn't all bad in this department-some one-scene-wonders played quite well within the context of the show.  I liked Sarah Paulson's work as Geraldine Page, even if she played it a bit too naively for a woman who had been working in Hollywood for a decade, and Serinda Swan nailed Anne Bancroft's "serious actress" bit with Crawford, in what I'd argue was the best scene featuring Lange outside of the finale. But these weren't consistent roles, and felt necessary to the writing.  The fact that Bates and Zeta-Jones had so many extra lines was infuriating, and made me wonder if they were cast before Murphy had an idea of what he was going to do with the show.

5. The Show Never Solves the "Biopic Problem"

I have never been a fan of a biopic, and that's because only the best of biopics can overcome the "I know what will happen" angle.  The finest biopics, in my opinion (think something like The Social Network and Wild) aren't afraid of making their subject seem more human, more flawed, and manage to be so interesting you forget that you know how this is going to end.  Most biopics, however, don't achieve this and simply strive for accuracy and imitation, but to me that's not interesting, particularly when it comes to television where "what comes next" is so vitally important to keep you tuned in week after week.

With the exception of Judy Davis's comic relief, this problem is never overcome.  You can claim that most audience members aren't going to know the minutia of whether or not Davis won that Oscar or if Crawford would stay on at Charlotte, but let's be honest here: me (gay, cinema-loving me) was Ryan Murphy's intended audience here, and I knew what was coming.  Despite this, the film never focused enough on things I wouldn't know the resolution to when it came to its cliffhangers and plot points.  Even when it fudged with the truth (Davis and Aldrich's imaginary affair), it didn't do so in a way that helped add drama or tension to the actual plot.  Putting more unknowable things (perhaps making Pauline's struggle a bigger part of the show) would have solved this problem, but mostly I felt listless, knowing that Crawford's film Trog would be a huge black-eye on her career, or that neither of these women would ever really have a major comeback chance after Baby Jane.

All-in-all, then, I left Feud underwhelmed.  I can't say I disliked it, because I would have given up on it if I had, but the intrigue factor (and the occasionally light moments) were really all that kept me going.  When Murphy next season tackles the Charles/Diana feud (a more recent affair, and one that has a lot more chances to be needlessly tacky and controversial considering how Diana died and how many people featured in it are still alive) I'll be sitting that one out, as the show didn't have me hooked.  But I'd still like to discuss if you have thoughts-share them below in the comments section!