"BABY JANE" REVISITED

Bette Davis and Joan Crawford

WHAT EVER HAPPENED TO BABY JANE? (1962). Director: Robert Aldrich.

"I hope you can be kinder to Jane and your father then they are to you."

Former child star Baby Jane Hudson (Bette Davis, pictured) shares a mansion in Hollywood with her crippled sister, Blanche (Joan Crawford), who was a big movie star in her day. When they begin showing her old movies on television, Jane gets the idea of reviving her own act -- but first she has to keep Blanche from selling the house out from under her, leading to grim events and tragedy.

Joan Crawford and Maidie Norman

While the subject matter with its mental illness and physical abuse is distasteful, Baby Jane is still a mesmerizing film, adroitly directed by Aldrich, well-made, and well-acted by the entire cast. Davis is simply superb as Jane (especially good when she collapses into horrified tears in front of her mirror); Crawford is solid but has the less flamboyant role. Victor Buono and Marjorie Bennett are great as Edwin Flagg and his mother. Maidie Norman and Anna Lee are also fine as, respectively, the Hudson's maid, Elvira, and pleasant neighbor, Mrs. Bates. (Davis' witchy religious nut daughter, B.D. Hyman, is barely acceptable as Lee's teen aged daughter; she had no subsequent career as an actress.) Ernest Anderson, who had an important role in In This Our Life, has a brief scene with Davis near the end of the film when he plays a food vendor at the beach. Baby Jane? is beautifully photographed by Ernest Haller. Write-ups of this film always refer to the "decaying" mansion the Hudson sisters live in, but it doesn't seem to be "decaying" -- like Jane's mind -- at all.

2020 UPDATE: Aldrich could have built up more suspense in certain sequences. Crawford doesn't quite pull out all the stops in her final scene, but then we have to remember she's supposed to be at death's door. A bank teller is played by Maxine Cooper of Kiss Me Deadly. Remade as a TV movie with the Redgrave sisters in 1990.

Verdict: Grotesque -- but it works. ***1/2.

DARK VICTORY

Bette Davis and George Brent

DARK VICTORY (1939). Director: Edmund Goulding.

"You might fold up and I might fold up, but that horse has the breeding."

An outstanding performance by Bette Davis is the cornerstone of this tearjerker that deals with a dying wealthy woman who falls in love with her doctor. Judith Traherne (Davis) has headaches and vision problems, and is afraid to see anyone about it. Finally her family physician (Henry Travers) arranges for her to be examined by Dr. Fred Steele (George Brent), whose initial diagnosis is glioma [this is not a phony Hollywood word but is actually a general term for any tumor in the brain that arises in the supporting tissue]. Steele performs surgery on Judith, but learns that her illness will reoccur and there is nothing to be done to prevent her eventual death. A happy, unknowing Judith goes on planning her life while her doctors and secretary/best friend Ann (Geraldine Fitzgerald) try to keep the truth from her ... Dark Victory is what's known as a "well-mounted soaper" and it is graced by Davis in one of her best performances, a lovely Fitzgerald, and even Brent delivers with perhaps more sensitivity than usual. Ernest Haller's photography is also excellent. But like most soap operas, Dark Victory is terribly contrived at times, and its look at terminal illness is almost offensively stupid -- like most movies that treated the subject at this time, the sick person looks more beautiful the closer they come to dying, which is completely absurd. (Davis does look beautiful in the movie, however.) One of the stupider moments has Steele, without the slightest prelude, telling a terrified patient, Judith, "We have to operate!" just so the scene can be more dramatic. The whole business of Judith looking and feeling absolutely normal until just before her death is also ludicrous, but it means Davis can wear some striking evening wear throughout the movie. Humphrey Bogart isn't bad as the Traherne's horse trainer, and has one very interesting scene when he comes on to Judith in the stable. Ronald Regan makes virtually no impression as one of Judith's friends, but Dorothy Peterson as the nurse Miss Wainwright, and Virginia Brissac as the maid Martha, are more on the mark. "Give Me Time for Tenderness" is warbled -- and very nicely -- by Vera Van in a nightclub scene (although some sources say it was Mary Currier, who may have acted the part and been dubbed). One must assume Dr. Steele is rich because he seems to spend months doing nothing but attending to Judith (or else he gives her a mighty big bill). Dark Victory is very well directed by Edmund Goulding, who guided Davis to do some of her best work in pictures, The Old Maid being a case in point. Goulding also directed Davis and Brent in The Great Lie. This was remade 26 years later as Stolen Hours aka Summer Flight starring Susan Hayward.

Verdict: Yes, a "well-mounted soaper" with a splendid Davis. ***.

THE UNFAITHFUL

Zachary Scott and Ann Sheridan

THE UNFAITHFUL (1947). Director: Vincent Sherman.

While her husband is out of town, Chris Hunter (Ann Sheridan) returns from a party and is attacked in her home, ultimately killing her assailant. Chris tells her husband, Bob (Zachary Scott), as well as the police, that she never met the man, a sculptor named Tanner. But if that's the case, why did Tanner do a bust of a woman who looks exactly like Chris Hunter, and why are some people offering it to her husband for sale ..? This is an excellent Americanized variation on, and post-WW2 updating of, The Letter, but it takes awhile for the viewer to realize it as it has so many interesting elements of its own. Sheridan [Nora Prentiss] gives one of her best performances, and has an especially good moment when she has a heart to heart talk with her husband about things she did when he was overseas and why she did them. Zachary Scott [Ruthless] is also excellent, as is Lew Ayres [Damian: Omen 2] as the friend and lawyer who comes to the couple's assistance. Eve Arden certainly scores in the somewhat edgier-than-usual role of Bob's cousin, Paula, and the dialogue [by David Goodis and James Gunn] as she tries to explain Chris' wartime actions to Bob is trenchant and memorable. Marta Mitrovich is quietly effective as the angry widow, Mrs. Tanner; Steven Geray suitably oily as a kind of blackmailer and art dealer; Jerome Cowan appropriately wily as a prosecutor; and John Hoyt ever-grim as a suspicious police detective. This is probably director Vincent Sherman's [The Damned Don't Cry] finest hour and a half. A first-rate score by Max Steiner and fine Ernest Haller photography complete the ensemble.

Verdict: A snappy, sophisticated picture that on its own terms is nearly as good as the original ***1/2.

MILDRED PIERCE

MILDRED PIERCE (1945). Director: Michael Curtiz.

"I wish I could get that enthused about working." -- Monte

"You were probably frightened by a callus at an early age." -- Ida

Mildred Pierce (Joan Crawford) has to make it on her own after she throws her husband out, so she winds up as a waitress and eventually works her way up to owning a chain of restaurants. Her chief motivation is her older daughter, Veda (Ann Blyth), to whom she is devoted and whose love she desires more than anything. Unfortunately, Veda is "spoiled rotten" -- to put it mildly, and Mildred's second husband, Monte Beragon (Zachary Scott) is certainly no bargain, either. Barbara Stanwyck, who'd not only appeared in an earlier epic of mother love, Stella Dallas, but who'd also starred in Double Indemnity, another adaptation of a James M. Cain novel, wanted to star in this film and she probably would have been more appropriate. However, Crawford, who won an Oscar, is no slouch in the part, with her effective "Hollywoodish" acting reflecting the fact that the film is essentially a very well turned out melodrama [the murder that opens the film is not part of the novel]. Ann Blyth is so good as the venal Veda [was she ever again as notable?] that she practically steals the film from Crawford. Zachary Scott and Jack Carson are terrific as, respectively, Monte and Mildred's business partner; in fact Carson was probably never seen to better advantage. Eve Arden is her usual adept sarcastic self as Ida, who works for Mildred, and Butterfly McQueen is a sheer delight as Mildred's maid, Lottie, who's always saying "Beg pardon?". [There seems to be something going on with this character that was left on the cutting room floor.] Bruce Bennett is also notable as Mildred's first husband and Veda's father, and the always notable Lee Patrick appears briefly as a woman with whom he becomes involved. Moroni Olsen scores as the police inspector, as does little Jo Ann Marlowe as Mildred's tragic younger daughter, Kay. John Compton, who was uncredited as Veda's handsome temporary husband, Ted, appeared mostly on TV shows until the early sixties. Max Steiner's theme music is memorable, although one wonders why he recycled some of his famous Now, Voyager music elsewhere in the picture. Ernest Haller's photography is, as usual, first-rate. Frankly, there's quite a bit you could quibble with about this movie, but it's undeniably smooth, well-paced, well-directed by Curtiz, and boasts some great dialogue, an interesting plot and characters, and some very excellent performances. It's interesting that Crawford's real-life daughter, Christina, turned out to be much, much worse than Veda, with her pre-fabricated book attacking her mother that by now has been discredited by virtually every thinking person. NOTE: Mildred Pierce has been remade as a cable mini-series, written and directed by Todd Haynes, and starring Kate Winslet as Mildred, Guy Pearce as Monte, and Evan [sic] Rachel Wood as Veda.

Verdict: Not quite a masterpiece but definitely a classic. ***1/2.

A STOLEN LIFE

A STOLEN LIFE (1946). Director: Curtis Bernhardt.

Kate Bosworth (Bette Davis) falls for a handsome lighthouse keeper named Bill (Glenn Ford) but he finds that her twin sister Pat has a little more "frosting" on her and marries the latter, devastating Kate. This is an interesting study of unrequited love with a little melodrama thrown in for good measure. Despite some trenchant dialogue, this is essentially a pure soap opera and it's perfectly swell on that level. Davis is fine and successfully limns two separate personalities as Kate and Pat. Ford merely has to look cute and be pleasant and this he does adroitly. Walter Brennan is his usual peppery self as the other "elderly" lighthouse keeper (Brennan was only 52 at the time!) and Charlie Ruggles scores as the twins' wise and compassionate cousin. Dane Clark is okay as the bitter starving artist Karnock but frankly it would have been wiser to forget about him and show us scenes of domestic discord with Bill and Pat -- that certainly would have been more fun. Bruce Bennett has a small role as one of Pat's extracurricular interests. A bit on the slow side at times, but the photography by Sol Polito and Ernest Haller is excellent, as is Max Steiner's score. The FX blending the two sisters together -- Davis acting with herself (and doing very well!) -- are very well executed and seamless.

Verdict: Handsomely produced soaper. ***.

ALL THIS AND HEAVEN TOO

ALL THIS AND HEAVEN TOO (1940). Director: Anatol Litvak. NOTE: Important plot details are discussed in this review. 

In 19th century France, a young woman, Henriette (Bette Davis) becomes governess to the four children of the Duke Theo (Charles Boyer) and Duchess Frances (Barbara O'Neil) de Praslin. Frances is a neurotic woman who lacks the maternal instincts of Henriette, and her condition is worsened by her deepening suspicion that Henriette is trying to usurp her place in the affections of both children and husband. Henriette and Theo do fall in love, but their relationship never becomes intimate. This does not stop Frances from hating her rival with a passion matched only by Theo's hatred of his wife. Rachel Field based the novel upon which the film was based on a true story, making Henriette (to whom she was related) completely innocent, which was probably not true in real life. Casey Robinson's screenplay makes both Duke and Duchess so one-dimensional that it's hard to figure out the true reasons for why their marriage went so wrong and how much Theo contributed to his wife's emotional distress. Theo is supposed to be so noble, but is only -- in essence-- a gigolo who married Frances for her father's money. Frances is made almost entirely hateful so that the audience will be on Theo's side when he commits a frightful act late in the picture. Despite these unsatisfactory aspects, All This and Heaven Too is an entertaining, well-made film for the most part, and moves quickly for nearly two and a half hours. Bette Davis offers one of her loveliest, most subdued portrayals, and wisely doesn't try to compete with an excellent Barbara O'Neil for histrionics. (O'Neil sort of out-Bettes Bette.) Boyer is good, but during his big love scene with Davis he merely seems to be woodenly reciting lines -- where is the passion generated by Davis? Jeffrey Lynn does a nice job as a kind minister who offers Davis salvation -- and romance (and he's younger and better-looking than Boyer, wouldn't you know it? Only in Hollywood!) The movie is drenched in acceptable Max Steiner romantic music, and Ernest Haller's photography is good but not especially striking. There are a host of fine supporting players in the film, and little Richard Nichols nearly steals the show as the adorable youngster, Reynald. If you can watch the scene when the kid lies sick in his bed, near death, without getting a lump in your throat you're way tougher than I am. 

Verdict: Interesting version of historical incidents. ***.

IN THIS OUR LIFE

IN THIS OUR LIFE (1942). Director: John Huston.

Due to the participation of a flamboyant Bette Davis, not to mention that it was said to bowdlerize the Pulitzer Prize-winning novel it was based on (by the now-forgotten Ellen Glascow), this film has always been seen as a soap opera when it is really an outstanding drama. On the surface it is a study of two sisters – one good, one bad – and how the bad sister's selfish actions impact upon everyone else around her. Below the surface it is a trenchant study of compassion and personal accountability versus utterly self-centered venality. Stanley (Davis) and Roy (Olivia de Havilland) are the masculine-named daughters of a sensitive man (Frank Craven) who has basically been thrown out of his own business and turned into a mere employee by his own brother-in-law (Charles Coburn). Stanley, who takes after her Uncle William (Coburn), runs off with her sister's husband (Dennis Morgan), practically destroying her sister's faith in love. Nevertheless, Roy tries to start anew with Stanley's cast-off fiancee, a lawyer played by George Brent. Later a tipsy Stanley runs over a mother and young daughter, killing the latter, and flees the scene. Instead of confessing, she blames the accident on Parry (Ernest Anderson), the son of the family housekeeper (Hattie McDaniel). It ends in a somewhat melodramatic but satisfying fashion, and along the way there are some very powerful and lovely sequences. Howard Koch's screenplay is quite good, with dialogue that shows much insight into the human condition. [After Stanley runs away, a distraught Uncle William cries “After all I've done for that girl – after all I've done!” to which her father replies “It doesn't make much difference when a person wants something else.”] The movie is always on the verge of exploding.

In This Our Life was the first major Hollywood film to present an upwardly-mobile and highly positive black character. Parry is studying to be a lawyer. He talks frankly of how there aren't many opportunities for a man of his race. The sad irony is that despite his excellent performance in In This Our Life, Anderson's subsequent film appearances had him playing bit parts as porters and servants. Many years later he appeared with Davis in What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? He plays the vendor who gives Baby Jane an ice cream cone on the beach near the end of the film. Both films were photographed by Ernest Haller. When the George Brent character neglects his legal practice due to being dumped by Davis, de Havilland reminds him that he already has everything that Parry is struggling for.

In This Our Life has slowly gained the admiration of modern-day critics who have finally seen that it is much more than just a “Bette Davis Melodrama.” Much of the screen time, of course, is thrown to Davis, who is occasionally much too overwrought and pop-eyed – but always riveting. She is at her best in her scenes with Charles Coburn, who clearly fancies her in a much more than Uncle-like fashion. There are two very memorable scenes between the two in Uncle William's parlor. First, she “flirts” with him as he confesses his loneliness and asks her to come and live with him; then she confronts him after fleeing from the police and he tells her that he's dying. “You've lived your life,” she tells him, “but what about me?”

Olivia de Havilland gives one of her nicest performances in this film. So does George Brent, who initially seems miscast. The scenes with these two wounded souls are enriched by a lovely waltz love theme courtesy of Max Steiner. There are times, however, when Steiner matches Davis' hysterical histrionics note for note, and these fortunately brief moments lower the whole tone of the picture (otherwise it's a fine score). Frank Craven is exceptional as the father, Asa, and Billie Burke gives a well-crafted dramatic performance as the hypochondriacal and foolish mother. Hattie McDaniel and Lee Patrick are also right on the money, as usual. The weakest performance comes from song-and-dance man Dennis Morgan, but he gets an A for effort. This was only John Huston's second film after The Maltese Falcon. He directs in the same very brisk style, which may not be appropriate for the subject matter but certainly keeps the picture humming.

Verdict: In This Our Life is a near-masterpiece. ***1/2.