SAN FRANCISCO SILENT FILM FESTIVAL Opening Night: Prix de beauté

By Lara Gabrielle Fowler

San Francisco’s Castro Theatre was packed last night, full of excited patrons who came to the theatre for the opening feature of the internationally renowned San Francisco Silent Film Festival. The festival is known for encouraging quality restorations of silent films, and last night’s presentation was Prix de beauté, a recently restored French film made in 1929 and starring American actress Louise Brooks.

1929 was an important year in cinema history. Though sound technology had been officially introduced into film in 1927, theater owners were at first reluctant to renovate their theaters to accommodate this new technology, as the appeal was thought to be fleeting and the expense of theater renovation could not be justified. By 1929, however, the novelty of sound films were continuing to capture the public’s attention, and many studios were beginning to film exclusively in sound to respond to the increasing public demand and the sky-high revenue sound films brought in. Despite the many benefits of switching to sound technology, many small-town theaters still could not afford to renovate their theaters and in recognition of this, many films were shot twice–once with sound, and once without to accommodate those theaters that had not yet switched to the new technology.

Such was the case with Prix de beauté. The silent version was made first, and the sound version premiered one year later with the voice of Louise Brooks dubbed into French. The sound version is much better known and more widely seen today, but last night the San Francisco Silent Film Festival presented the silent version that was recently restored by the Cineteca de Bologna.

Lucienne Fournier is the happily married wife of Andre, a printing press operator, living in the beach community of San Sebastien. When she hears that there is to be a beauty contest to choose “Miss France,” who will ultimately compete in the Miss Europe competition, she jumps at the opportunity despite her husband’s disdain for beauty contests. She secretly applies, and to her great surprise she ends up winning the competition. To compete in the “Miss Europe” pageant, she has to travel to Spain immediately without having the opportunity to break the news to her husband. When he finds out, he rushes to the train but Lucienne has already departed.

In Spain, Lucienne receives wild audience applause and hence is crowned “Miss Europe.” She receives many admirers, including a maharajah and a Russian prince named Prince Grabovsky, and is tempted by a rich and luxurious life. André finally shows up and gives her an ultimatum–return to France with him, or accept that their marriage is over. She makes the difficult decision to return to her husband and renounce her life as Miss Europe.

Lucienne is courted by the maharajah.

Back in France, Lucienne is miserable. She loves her husband, but feels restricted by life as a housewife. She becomes very depressed, but brightens when autograph requests come from people seeking a souvenir from Miss Europe. André is angered by the photos that come in the mail, and rips them up. “I hope to never hear about Miss Europe again,” read the intertitles. “Understood??” Lucienne breaks down in tears, and André is wracked by guilt. He begins to cry too, cuddles up to her, and they comfort each other.

Later, Prince Grabovsky tracks Lucienne down, offering her a contract for sound films. Recalling her earlier confrontation with her husband, she refuses it to Grabovsky’s face but still keeps the contract. Feeling temptation of which she knew her husband would not approve, Lucienne rips up the contract. She immediately regrets it and that night, she stares for a long time at the ripped pieces. She reflects for a long time, and ultimately writes the sleeping André a note telling him it is over between them. She emphasizes how much she loves him, but she take this contract. She leaves the house forever, signs the contract, and makes a screen test with Phonofilm.

When André wakes up she is gone. He reads the note and tracks her down at the Phonofilm company, where Lucienne is in the screening room watching her screen test. In his anger, he pulls out a gun and shoots Lucienne. As she lies dying, we hear her voice singing in the screen test.

Lucienne smiles as she watches her screen test.

I wasn’t sure what to expect with this movie. I had never seen the sound version, and I was half expecting a happy ending, as much of the movie is quite cheery. But instead the ending was a bit of a shock, and the viewer is left with a feeling of the fleeting nature of life. A woman who had so much in front of her is shot dead while watching her future unfold. One is also left with some questions unanswered, as we never know what happens to André, and we are reminded that a woman was very much at the mercy of her husband, in every way, during this era. One thing I noticed in this movie was the contrast between the opening scene and the ending scene. The movie begins on a sunny San Sebastien beach, where children are playing and adults laughing and talking with each other. We are set up for a happy movie, and we have every reason to believe that the characters will unfold that way. Instead, the movie ends in the dark, with a gruesome murder of one of those laughing, happy characters on the beach lying dead in a screening room. Very interesting film.

Today’s lineup consists of Amazing Tales from the Archives, The First Born, Tokyo Chorus, The Patsy, and The Golden Clown. I’ll be back tomorrow with a rundown! In the meantime, be sure to check Twitter, as I will be posting throughout the festival.

See you soon!

The San Francisco Silent Film Festival Kicks off Tonight!

By Lara Gabrielle Fowler

That’s right folks, tonight Backlots will be returning to the San Francisco Silent Film Festival as an official member of the press! This year, like every year, the festival will feature some of the most fascinating films, restorations and speakers from the world of silent film over the course of 4 days.

Louise Brooks in Prix de beauté, tonight’s opening night feature.

The festival schedule this year is as follows. Click the films you are interested in, and you will be taken to the film’s page on the San Francisco Silent Film Festival website for more information and showtimes!

Prix de Beaute

Opening Night Party!

Amazing Tales from the Archives

The First Born

Tokyo Chorus

The Patsy

The Golden Clown (Klovnen)

The Half-Breed

Legong: Dance of the Virgins

Gribiche

The House on Trubnaya Square

The Joyless Street (Die freudlose Gasse)

Kings of (Silent) Comedy

The Outlaw and His Wife (Berg-Ejvind och hans hustru)

The Last Edition

The Weavers (Die Weber)

Safety Last!

I will be following my standard method of covering festivals, with live tweets appearing on the site and a blog post following each day. It promises to be a wonderful festival, and if you are in the San Francisco area, please come join me and be sure to say hello!

Thanks for reading, and I hope to see you there!

Happy birthday Barbara Stanwyck!

By Lara Gabrielle Fowler

Today marks what would have been the 106th birthday of the legendarily versatile actress Barbara Stanwyck, who left her indelible mark on nearly every genre known to film. With a career spanning nearly 60 years, Stanwyck’s versatility proved to stretch beyond the confines of film and in later years she became equally at home on the small screen, starring in such projects as The Big Valley and the TV movie The Thorn Birds, along with her own hit television series.

She was born Ruby Catherine Stevens in Brooklyn, to a lower class family with 4 older children. When Ruby was 2, her mother was killed when a drunken stranger pushed her off a trolley car, and her father subsequently abandoned the family to dig the Panama Canal. With her older sister Millie as her guardian, Ruby lived a chaotic and poverty-stricken childhood in a series of foster homes, from which she often tried to escape. Her only comfort was in her brother, Malcolm Byron (called “Bert”). Bert later became a sometime actor, a troubled soul who was supported both financially and emotionally by his sister throughout his life, a devoted repayment for the comfort he provided her in their difficult childhood.

As a chorus girl, circa 1924.

Perhaps due to the chaotic nature of her childhood, Ruby was never a good student, and dropped out of school in the 7th grade to work as a package wrapper in a Brooklyn department store. After going through several different menial jobs, she finally landed a job as a chorus girl, taking after her sister Millie. She was spotted by the producer of a play called The Noose, and she was given a part in the play, under the new name of Barbara Stanwyck, and soon took another job in Burlesque. In later years, film actor Pat O’Brien, who had seen Stanwyck in Burlesque, recalled with sadness that “one of the greatest stage actresses of our time was embalmed in celluloid.” This is a testament to yet another dimension of Stanwyck’s versatility that would soon make itself apparent in motion pictures.

After marrying a volatile actor named Frank Fay, Stanwyck moved with her husband to Hollywood so that she could expand her horizons to film. She began in such small movies as Ladies of Leisure (1930),  Ten Cents a Dance (1931), and Shopworn (1932). From those early roles, one stands out–her magnificent performance in Baby Face (1932), which tells the story of a poor bartender’s daughter who escapes her life in a bar and moves to the big city, where she sleeps her way to the top. A monumental and risky film for its time, it stands out as one of Stanwyck’s best performances of her career, and was one of the main impetuses for the implementation of the Hays Code.

Baby Face.

Stanwyck’s career quickly took off, and by the middle part of the decade, she was a bona fide star. She consistently made wise career choices, and hence one is hard pressed to find a Barbara Stanwyck movie that is not top notch. Though most of her roles in the 1930’s were dramatic, solidifying her reputation as a skilled dramatic star, the 1940’s saw her taking marvelous comedic parts, and with such films as Ball of Fire and The Lady Eve, she proved to audiences that she was equally adept at comedy. She further expanded her horizons in 1944 when she accepted the role of murderous housewife Phyllis Dietrichson in Billy Wilder’s classic film noir Double Indemnity, securing her reputation as a noir actress. Her 4 Academy Award nominations are indicative of her myriad skills–her first nomination was in 1937 for Stella Dallas (a drama), followed by Ball of Fire (1941, comedy), Double Indemnity (1944, noir), and Sorry, Wrong Number (1948, suspense).

From Ball of Fire.

Stanwyck was known in Hollywood as one of the most likable actresses in the business. She developed a close friendship with William Holden when they acted together in Holden’s first film, Golden Boy, and he credited her with truly building his career to what it became. They remained lifelong friends.

She never distinguished herself or held herself above anyone else on her sets–crew members recall that she knew all of their names as well as their children’s names, and frequently asked about them. Marilyn Monroe said that Barbara Stanwyck was the only member of Hollywood’s Golden Age who helped her and was kind to her. She was known as “Missy” to her friends and coworkers, and often her chairs on the set said “Missy” instead of the standard “Miss Stanwyck.”

Her personal life was rocky at best. An early relationship to Al Jolson ended in lifelong physical and psychological damage to Stanwyck, and her marriage to Frank Fay dissolved due to intense abuse. She married actor Robert Taylor in 1939, and the marriage lasted until 1951, constituting arguably the longest relationship in her life. After her marriage to Robert Taylor, her film career began to decline and she turned to television with a series entitled The Barbara Stanwyck Show that lasted for 1 season. But television proved to be her forte in later years, with a starring role on The Big Valley and guest spots on numerous high ranking television shows in the 1960’s through 1980’s. Her role in The Thorn Birds earned her another Emmy, and proved to audience that after all these years, she still had it.

A smoker since the age of 9, Stanwyck’s health took a turn for the worse in the late 1980’s, and she died in 1990 from acute emphysema and congestive heart failure. She never won an Oscar, and has been called the greatest actress never to have done so. She was awarded an honorary statuette shortly before her death, and dedicated it to her lifelong friend William Holden.

Happy birthday, Missy!

Happy birthday, Olivia de Havilland!

Picture 34

Left: Olivia de Havilland in “Alice in Wonderland” at age 16, and right: Olivia recently at the César Awards in Paris.

By Lara Gabrielle Fowler

Today marks the 97th birthday of the wonderful Olivia de Havilland, one of the last surviving icons of Hollywood’s Golden Age and the last principal cast member of Gone With the Wind. The recipient of 5 Academy Award nominations and 2 Oscars (earned for her roles in To Each His Own in 1946 and The Heiress in 1949), the Presidential Medal of the Arts and, recently, the coveted Légion d’Honneur from former French president Nicolas Sarkozy, Olivia de Havilland is a true legend and a treasure to the industry.

The powerful final scene of The Heiress, which, in my opinion, singlehandedly won her the Oscar.

Born in Tokyo, she moved to the United States at the age of two and a half and grew up in Saratoga, CA. She acted in local plays before making her big break in a production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream produced by Max Reinhardt. Hollywood followed and she rose to stardom at Warner Brothers (with a loan out to David O. Selznick for a little picture called Gone With the Wind, earning her her first Oscar nomination for the portrayal of the mild and kind Melanie), subsequently breaking out of her contract via a landmark ruling that is still discussed in entertainment law books today, a ruling known as the de Havilland decision. Without a studio contract, she had the freedom to choose her own roles and chose wisely, accruing both of her Oscars after her tenure at Warner Brothers.

After a rocky marriage to the novelist Marcus Goodrich, Olivia relocated to Paris in 1953 with her 3-year-old son Benjamin. She wanted to pursue a fledgling romance with Pierre Galante, the editor of Paris Match, whom she had met at a film festival shortly before. They soon married and had a daughter, Gisèle, in 1956. Though the marriage ultimately didn’t last, Olivia and Pierre remained the best of friends and shared the same house for many years after the divorce. It was Olivia who was taking care of him when he died in her house in the 1990’s. Not long before, her son Benjamin had also passed away at her home, from complications from non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma.

With Benjamin, shortly after their move to Paris.

Contrary to the enormous fame she attained at the height of her stardom in the 1930’s and 1940’s, she maintains a relatively low profile nowadays, making her home in the same modest Paris townhouse that she has occupied since she first moved to Paris in 1953. Since the death of her son, she has been very involved with the American Cathedral in Paris, whom she credits with providing her enormous support in dealing with Benjamin’s long and difficult struggle with cancer. She is also enormously active in the Anglophone community as a whole, often hosting benefits and fundraisers at her home for the American Library and the American University in Paris.

As many of you know, I had the great pleasure to meet Ms. de Havilland at the American Library in Paris 2 years ago when she was introducing I Remember Better When I Paint, a documentary she recently narrated. I found her just the way I hoped she would be–sweet, modest, demonstrative (she held my hand as we talked), and incredibly beautiful. Age seems to have nothing on her, she looks just as beautiful now as she did in her Hollywood days. It was an indescribably great honor to meet her and she signed my copy of her memoir, Every Frenchman Has One, that she wrote in 1962. Always the social butterfly, she stayed long after the event was over, talking to people and ignoring the whispers in her ear that her taxi was outside. After a good 3 or 4 ignored whispers, the organizers finally told her that it really was time to go, and she disappointedly sighed “Oh, they’re making me leave!”

Well Olivia, we hope you never leave! Here’s to 97 more!

Hitchcock 9 Day 1: BLACKMAIL (1929)

By Lara Gabrielle Fowler

The Hitchcock 9 got underway at the Castro Theatre last night with a screening of the silent version of Blackmail (1929). San Francisco Silent Film Festival artistic director Anita Monga spoke before the screening, mentioning that Blackmail is the last of Hitchcock’s films restored by the BFI for this event, made just before Hitchcock made the official transition into sound. In fact, Blackmail was actually shot twice–once as a sound film (sound was just beginning to become the default choice for filmmakers) and once as a silent, intended for theatres not yet equipped for sound. The sound version is relatively frequently seen, while the silent version screened for this event is quite rare and thus was a particularly special treat for filmgoers.

Alice White (Anny Ondra) is going out with Frank (John Longden), a Scotland Yard detective, but he seems more interested in his work than in spending time with his girlfriend. She confronts him about this at a tea house, and they have a fight during which Frank walks out in anger. To spite Frank, Alice invites a young painter named Mr. Crewe over to her table and leaves with him, walking right by Frank, who fumes. The two go back to Mr. Crewe’s apartment for what starts out as a harmless evening of painting. Alice notices a painting of a laughing clown that is a bit eerie, but she ignores it. Eventually Mr. Crewe asks Alice to pose in a ballerina costume for a painting. When Alice tries to change back into her clothes, Mr. Crewe steals them and attacks her in an attempted rape. As Mr. Crewe attacks her, Alice desperately tries to escape but when Mr. Crewe proves too strong for her, she reaches for a bread knife and stabs Mr. Crewe to death.

In this clip, pay special attention to Anny Ondra’s complete transformation from the beginning to the end. She morphs from a sweet, friendly girl to a woman almost possessed. You can see the murder in her eyes, but also intense fear and shock at what she has done. This clip demonstrates what a magnificent actress Anny Ondra was, and what a stellar performance she gave in this movie.

The morning after the murder, the whole neighborhood is talking about Crewe’s death and who might have committed such a horrible crime. Scotland Yard goes to the house to investigate, and coincidentally, it is Frank who is assigned to the case. He finds a glove in the house that he recognizes as Alice’s. When he sees the face of the dead man, he remembers Alice leaving with him and begins to put the pieces together. He confronts Alice at her father’s tobacco shop about what happened, when another man named Tracey approaches them and tries to blackmail them with the other glove, which he has in his possession. However, it turns out that Tracey himself has a criminal record, so Frank turns the blackmail around and turns Tracey in to Scotland Yard. Tracey flees and is pursued by Scotland Yard in the British Museum, where he falls through a glass panel to his death.

Tracey tries to escape down a rope in the British Museum.

Meanwhile, Alice is wracked with guilt about pinning the murder on someone who didn’t do it. She decides to turn herself in. But when she goes to see the Chief Inspector, he is distracted by a phone call and asks Frank to talk to Alice. The film ends as Mr. Crewe’s laughing clown painting is carried past them.

The image of the laughing clown painting was clear irony, providing a contrast to the murder. But I thought it was only that, until I researched the sound version. In the sound version, it is made clear that the model for the clown was in fact Tracey. This clears up some vagueness in the movie, because this silent version never explains where Tracey came from or how he knew Mr. Crewe. This gives an extra dimension to the reappearance of the clown, and ties up some loose ends that I noticed in the movie.

Despite this, I thoroughly enjoyed the movie. It is unmistakeably Hitchcock, and the chase through the British Museum reminded me more than a little of the chase through the Symphony Hall in The Man Who Knew Too Much (1954). Another interesting trivia bit about this movie is that there are no intertitles at all for the first 15 minutes of the movie. The action is conveyed completely through facial expressions, but there is no plot lost. The acting is so good that the audience is aware of exactly what is going on, without relying on the use of words.

Blackmail also includes what is thought to be Hitchcock’s longest cameo in any of his movies. He is onscreen for 20 seconds, shown being tormented by a small boy on a bus.

Hitchcock’s cameo

The festival continues today with Champagne at 1:00, Downhill at 4:00, The Ring at 7:00, and The Manxman at 9:30. See you there!

Hitchcock 9 To Be Covered This Evening at the Castro Theatre, San Francisco, CA

 

Dear readers, I apologize profusely for my absence over the past 2 weeks. As many of you know, I am also a cellist, and have been occupied with preparing 2 very big pieces to be played at a master class next week. Hence, I’m afraid I will have to be absent some more next week–I will try to post at least once, but I’ll be very busy. There have been some significant classic film events that have happened since I’ve been gone, including our loss of the great Esther Williams and Judy Garland’s 91st birthday. I promise I will cover those, but it might be rather late. Stay tuned.

Tonight I will be going to San Francisco to cover the Hitchcock 9 Festival–a 2.5 day screening organized by the British Film Institute,  Rialto Pictures/Studiocanal, and Park Circus/ITV. The program consists of 9 Hitchcock silents newly restored by the British Film Institute. It promises to be quite a few days, and as usual, I will be live tweeting and blogging about the events. To see the complete program, click here.

Again, I apologize for my absence but I hope you will enjoy my coverage of Hitchcock 9 this weekend. See you soon!

The Double Identity of a Pop Culture Icon

Around age 14, circa 1940.

By Lara Gabrielle Fowler

On June 1, 2013, Marilyn Monroe would have turned 87 years old. It is difficult to imagine what the rest of her life would have been like, had she survived whatever took place on that mysterious night of her death at the age of 36. She was at the height of her fame professionally, but struggling with deep psychological problems that constantly threatened to derail her. At the height of her problems was an inability to reconcile two identities–the fatherless foster child Norma Jeane Baker, and the internationally famous sex symbol Marilyn Monroe. Eerily, her birthday falls under the astrological sign of Gemini, the twins. Maybe neither of these identities truly defined her. She strove desperately to improve herself as an actress, taking classes at the Actor’s Studio and earning considerable respect from Lee Strasberg, who called her one of the most naturally talented students ever to come through the studio. She fought for civil rights and was a particular champion of Ella Fitzgerald, securing her an engagement at the previously all-white Mocambo club by promising the owner that she would be there, in the front row, every night. She was a voracious reader, taking a special interest in biographies of Abraham Lincoln and was a devoted admirer of Albert Einstein. Perhaps she so passionately threw herself into these interests to cobble together her own, self-styled identity, to take the best of both worlds she had lived and put them together to create a mosaic of her own experience. I don’t often talk about Marilyn. I have too much respect for her and how she handled life to perpetuate this false myth of her as a goddess-like, immortal creature devoid of humanity. It is nearly impossible to mention her name without unconsciously perpetuating this iconic image that has landed her, tastelessly, on mugs and T-shirts and postcards and lunchboxes in every seedy tourist trap in town. But on her birthday, she deserves to be spoken of and remembered. Not as a pop culture legend, but as a woman and a real, flesh-and-blood human being. That is what I strive for when I do speak about her, and what I feel is my responsibility to her, as a person with a voice through my blog. So for her birthday, a day late, I am paying tribute to the woman as she was. These are the images that I think most represent the face of the real, natural person she strove to maintain against the current of crass commercialism. Happy birthday, Marilyn.

With her adored foster mother, “Aunt” Ana Lower, and family friends, circa 1938.

Rare video with another foster mother, Grace Goddard (also her legal guardian), who appears in the dark blue dress.

An early modeling shot.

A quiet moment with third husband Arthur Miller.

At her wedding to Miller. Monroe had converted to Judaism, and was a practicing Jew for the rest of her life.

Speaking to reporters after returning from studies at the Actor’s Studio.

CLFP: SWING HIGH, SWING LOW (1937)

carole lombard

 

By Lara Gabrielle Fowler

A mix of light comedy and dark drama defines Swing High, Swing Low, the third movie to team Carole Lombard and frequent co-star Fred MacMurray and the only one that might be classified as a drama. At the beginning we see what looks to be a screwball comedy in the vein of the team’s earlier Hands Across the Table, until the story takes a complete turn in the second half during which it proceeds to deal with large themes such as divorce, fallen stardom, and alcoholism in an unusually frank manner.

Maggie (Lombard), young stowaway on a ship to California via Panama is courted by Skip (MacMurray), a young soldier on his final day of the army, and she reluctantly agrees to go on a date with him at a local Panamanian bar. After a brawl between the soldier and a local caballero, they land in court and while humorously trying to break the language barrier they keep getting fined more and more money for contempt. During their struggle they hear Maggie’s boat leaving, and she is stuck in Panama and forced to move in with Skip and his musician roommate until the next boat. She discovers Skip’s talent for the trumpet and encourages him to play professionally. The three of them form a small group with the roommate playing the piano, Skip playing trumpet, and Maggie singing at the bar, where there is also a sensual dancer by the name of Anita Rodriguez (Dorothy Lamour) who has her eye on Skip. By this time, Skip and Maggie have fallen in love and marry, Maggie leaving her desire to stow away on the next ship to California.

Skip receives an offer to go to New York to play at the El Greco, and leaves a forlorn Maggie behind in Panama. She writes him every day, but never receives a reply. Eventually she sails to New York to find him, and learns that Anita also appears in Skip’s show at the El Greco. Suspecting infidelity, she calls Anita’s room at the hotel and her worst fears are confirmed when Skip answers the phone. She writes him a letter informing him of her intention to get a divorce, and this sends Skip into a deep depression. He loses his job at the El Greco, and turns to alcohol to numb his pain. He tries to rejoin the army, but they won’t take him due to his alcoholism. His old roommate tries to get his career back on track with a radio spot for their old band, and the program director contacts Maggie who has just returned from getting the divorce in Paris to see if she would help. Hearing Skip’s plight, Maggie goes to find him and the band plays together again with Skip leaning on Maggie for support, ending the film on a hopeful note for Skip’s future.

The issue of divorce was a tricky one in the 1930’s, and most movies that deal with divorce during that period end with the decree not going through. Swing High, Swing Low is different. Not only does Maggie obtain the divorce that she sought, but she does not romantically involve herself with Skip again in the end. Instead, Maggie is shown as a sympathetic character who was correct in filing for divorce from the man who wronged her, but who has the dignity and confidence to care for him when he is in need. This greatly surprised me as not only does it validate divorce, a very risky move under the code, but it also validates a woman’s judgment regarding the infidelity of a man and paints her as the man’s saving grace at the end, instead of the reverse.

This is certainly not the best of Lombard and MacMurray’s four pairings, but to me it may be the most interesting due to the thematic switch halfway through and the gender role reversal that ends the film. The acting by MacMurray is marvelous, and Carole Lombard is given the ability to show her talent for both screwball comedy and for drama. Given the versatility she showed in her movies I often think that if Carole Lombard had lived longer, she may have proven to be one of the most versatile actresses of her day, equal to the likes of Irene Dunne and Barbara Stanwyck. A poignant thought.

See you next time!

What Happened at the 23rd Academy Awards?

As the Academy Awards are broadcast from Hollywood, Gloria Swanson anxiously awaits the announcement of Best Actress.

By Lara Gabrielle Fowler

On a whim yesterday, I removed my trusty VHS of Sunset Boulevard from its spot in my movie library (organized alphabetically, by year) and put it in for an  impromptu viewing. Sunset Boulevard is one of those movies with everything–flawless plot, perfect script, skillful directing, and tour-de-force acting by Gloria Swanson, whose portrayal of fictional fallen screen star Norma Desmond, whose life has unraveled to the point of insanity, is one for the ages. As a friend of mine puts it, “Gloria Swanson tore her heart out and bled that role.”

Rightly, she was remembered in the Best Actress Oscar nominations for 1950, along with Bette Davis (All About Eve), Judy Holliday (Born Yesterday), Anne Baxter (All About Eve), and Eleanor Parker (Caged).

All About Eve is similar to Sunset Boulevard in many ways. Both were directed by writer-directors (Joseph L. Mankiewicz’s script for All About Eve is a phenomenal triumph, and Billy Wilder’s script with Charles Brackett for Sunset Boulevard is famous for being the pair’s last collaboration) and both deal brutally with the issues of stardom as one ages. The main characters are stubborn and vulnerable larger-than-life personalities. We are led to realize the unfairness in life that has been dealt to them–where Norma Desmond’s fragile mental state leads those close to her (namely her strangely devoted butler Max) to treat her with kid gloves, no one takes Margo’s guff and it is assumed that she can take care of herself–when in reality she is in desperate need of protection.

Hollywood loved its own. It was going to be either Bette Davis or Gloria Swanson, no one else had much of a chance.

But when the announcement was read, there was an upset.

So what happened?

I think the nomination of two actresses portraying similarly themed characters, both giving the performance of their respective careers, was too much for that year. The votes were split down the for Davis and Swanson, relegating each of them to the minority allowing Judy Holliday to win with the “outlier” votes. Essentially, 1950 was so good, it backfired.

Now don’t get me wrong, I think Judy Holliday was brilliant in Born Yesterday. It remains one of my favorite movies of 1950, and Judy Holliday was what made it. Check out this wonderful scene of her playing cards, and the subtle expressions and physical movements that drive the scene. I apologize for the poor quality, but it’s very much worth watching.

Had this been any other year, I would have applauded Holliday’s win, but it was an inappropriate result for a category that included Gloria Swanson in Sunset Boulevard and Bette Davis in All About Eve.

I would like to pose the question to you, readers–what are your opinions on the 23rd Academy Awards? Who do you think should have won? What do you think happened? Leave a comment in the comments section and let’s discuss it!

I look forward to reading your comments!

Remembering Katharine Hepburn

 

By Lara Gabrielle Fowler

Today, May 12, would have been the 106th birthday of the great Katharine Hepburn.

I often struggle trying to describe Katharine Hepburn, as mere adjectives don’t seem to suffice, and empty superlatives would have bored her. To say she was a woman ahead of her time would be stating the painfully obvious, and to say she was the best American actress of all time is something that has been stated again and again since her official inclusion on the American Film Institute’s “100 Years, 100 Stars” list, filling the #1 spot. I will not rehash any of that here, as it has all already been said.

People adore her, bow down to her, and put her on a cinematic pedestal as a standard to which we should all strive. I fear that if idolized to the point of mythology, the Katharine Hepburn who prided herself on being a real, grounded, salt-of-the-earth woman will cease to be. Hence, instead of tripping over myself trying to celebrate Katharine Hepburn in words, I will let her clips speak for her.

Happy birthday, Kate.

This is perhaps my favorite scene in any of Katharine Hepburn’s movies.

Despite winning a record 4 Academy Awards, this is Katharine Hepburn’s only appearance at the Oscars.

And here is one of Hepburn’s interviews, of which she had only a handful. Note in the first video that Hepburn is essentially overhauling the entire set, but no one complains. They are putty in the hands of a legend. I am hard pressed to think of someone today who could command this type of complete deference.