Here are the results of the poll:
1. Barbara Stanwack- Double Indemnity (33 votes)
2. Ingrid Bergman - Gaslight (14 votes)
3. Claudette Colbert - Since you went Away & Bette Davis - Mr. Skeffington (2 votes)
4. Greer Garson - Mrs. Parkington (1 vote)
Thanks to everyone for voting!
Showing posts with label 1944. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1944. Show all posts
11/10/2011
10/26/2011
Best Actress 1944: The resolution
After having watched and reviewed all five nominated performances, it's time to pick the winner!
5. Bette Davis in Mr. Skeffington
In her attempt to turn Fanny into a charming and lovely socialite while also showing her many flaws, Bette Davis crafted a most unfortunate creation, rid of any appeal or logic and that way unable to carry such a long and character-driven story. She clearly saw the tasks she was given with this role but her way of bringing this character to live is often a failure and sometimes even unbearable.
Claudette Colbert gives an effective, charming, sometimes moving, sometimes humorous performance that isn’t necessarily a great achievement in acting but still a delightful and memorable pierce of work, especially considering how underwritten and underused the character of Anne Hilton actually is.
Greer Garson may not truly create something otherworldly in her performance but the sheer energy and naturalness she shows in this part is enough to praise her for having done so much with so little. There is warmth, wisdom and strength in her portrayal and she also combines the woman of the present-day scenes perfectly with the woman of the flashback scenes.
2. Ingrid Bergman in Gaslight
Ingrid Bergman found a wonderful way to use an acting style that is both modern and ‘old Hollywood’ to give a performance that remains constantly impressive because of both the technical outside and the emotional, three-dimensional inside. She turns Gaslight into a dark and suspenseful ride, fulfilling the tasks of the story while adding her own personality and screen presence to craft a powerful and lasting presence.
Best Actress 1944: Claudette Colbert in "Since you went Away"
Almost all reviews of Since you went Away compare Selznick’s American home front sage to the Best Picture winner of 1942, the British home front saga Mrs. Miniver. And why not? Both movies take a look at families during World War II and both feature a strong mother-figure who must hold her family together. The big difference are the circumstances that these families and women have to endure – Mrs. Miniver had her husband by her side but she had to worry about her oldest son who had joined the Royal Air Force and she also had to capture a German pilot in her kitchen and suffer through various air-rids before the movie is over. Claudette Colbert’s Anne Hilton on the other hand benefits from an ocean between her home and the European battlefields so there need to be no worries about Nazis in her kitchen or bombs above her head. But unlike Mrs. Miniver, Anne Hilton has to mourn the absence of her husband who has gone to fight in the war and left her with her two daughters. For a movie, the story of Mrs. Miniver certainly offers much more interesting aspects and plots since war is a much more real and tangible presence. Since you went Away focuses on the day-to-day life of a family without a husband and father and had to include various subplots that feel rather unnecessary very often but without them the movie could never have achieved the running time of 172 minutes – which probably would have upset David O. Selznick very much since a long running time can only mean epic and epic can only mean Oscar. But in 1944, Academy voters were looking for in another direction and instead of war they voted for singing priests and instead of a strong and caring mother they voted for a wife slowly driven insane by her husband.
Since you went Away is certainly an interesting movie that serves as a time capsule for the time it was made in and therefore is presented with a lot of honesty and realism while also adding an expected amount of sentimentality and patriotism. But even though, the story mostly lacks focus when it comes to what it wants to present and very often the movie shifts from a story about a family during war time to a teenage romance or a comedy and it mostly guides its character and cast through overly constructed plots and situations. There is also a reason why Since you went Away is not called 'Mrs. Hilton' – it is a much stronger ensemble movie than Mrs. Miniver and does not present the character of Anne Hilton as its true center. Rather, Since you went Away focuses on Jennifer Jones as the oldest daughter of the family and it also never gives Claudette Colbert the same dramatic opportunities and moments as Mrs. Miniver did for Greer Garson. This lack of true depth or character development made it necessary to cast an actress in the role of Anne Hilton with enough earthy charm and personality to prevent the character from dropping too far into the background. And Claudette Colbert was certainly the right kind of actress for this kind of part.
Ten years after she won an Oscar for her role in the legendary comedy It happened one Night, Claudette Colbert received her third and final Oscar nomination for the much more conventional part of Anne Hilton. This character certainly benefited from Claudette Colbert’s screen personality even though it did not allow her any truly grand steps as an actress. In her part, Claudette Colbert is mostly reduced to re-acting, very seldom is she allowed to anchor any moments of the story and whenever she does find herself in the center of attention it is mostly for obligatory dramatic scenes. She does handle those scenes well, no question about it, but they never help her to make a bigger impact on the overall storyline. But all this does not mean that Claudette Colbert is invisible in Since you went Away – her strong screen presence and talent as an actress certainly prevent this but as the movie goes on, she does became a more and more fleeting presence even though she uses every bit of her screen time wisely. Claudette Colbert’s biggest misfortune is that the part of Anne Hilton not only offers no true challenge for her but the structure of Since you went Away also works in a way that makes her absence never truly noticeable – Anne Hilton is not the kind of character one misses when she not onscreen, rather she comes and goes without any changes in the overall tone of the movie.
Still, Claudette Colbert is a lovely and strong presence in Since you went Away and even though she may not be its emotional centre she still was able to craft a strong, loveable, caring and three-dimensional human being while gliding through the story with undeniable elegance and charm that helped her to add that little extra spark to Anne Hilton which also was visible in so many other of the characters she played. The husband of Anne Hilton, who is so sorely missed during the entire movie, is already gone when Since you went Away begins. In the movie’s first scene, Claudette Colbert shows Anne sorrows, worries and pains as she comes home after she said goodbye to her husband and has to face her house and her life without him. Claudette Colbert’s facial work in this moment is certainly excellent as she projects all the different emotions that Anne Hilton is experiencing at this moment but her voice-over during this scene is just a tad too melodramatic and sometimes rather distracts from the seriousness of the scene instead of emphasizing it. A crying scene when she is alone in her bedroom also does not truly work in the dramatic context it is supposed to do because her crying feels rather exaggerated, as if Claudette Colbert was still the spoiled Ellie Andrews, and the musical score also underlines the scene with a rather cheery melody as if the movie wants the audience to laugh about this woman because she is basically helpless without a man at her side.
Claudette Colbert improves her performance as the movie goes on, especially after Joseph Cotton entered it as a close friend who openly admits that he has more feelings than friendship. The plot itself may seem rather forced but Claudette Colbert and Joseph Cotton have a wonderful chemistry together and never exaggerate the drama in their scenes – instead, both actors treat their relationship with humor and dignity and the storyline allows Claudette Colbert to shine in what she does so well: be earthy, elegant, charming and real at the same time. She also works nicely with Jennifer Jones and Shirley Temple as her daughters, playing the kind of mother a lot of children can only dream of – understanding, loving, guiding and full of joy and life. Especially her scenes with Jennifer Jones provide Claudette Colbert with various dramatic moments that contrast nicely with her otherwise charming and humorous work – when she has to tell her daughter some terrible news, Claudette Colbert manages to be just as moving as Jennifer Jones, showing a mother experiencing all the pain of her daughter at this moment.
So, Claudette Colbert is always strong whenever she is on the screen and actually asked to do something with her character but overall the part suffers from the conventional storytelling that does not see in Anne Hilton anything more than a wise and caring mother (even though the storyline with Joseph Cotton adds some welcome ‘pep’ to the proceedings) and presents her only with limited opportunities and challenges. Claudette Colbert knows how to craft her character and how to show a woman who is simultaneously missing her husband, organizing her family, charming an old friend, worrying about money and the future and must keep up a façade of strength and courage for the sake of her children. But all this happens mostly scene by scene, always depending on what the screenplay actually asks of her. Claudette Colbert does leave the movie on a high note, so – the scene when she discovers a Christmas present from her husband and is overcome with emotions, joy and sadness, is a wonderful example of old Hollywood melodrama done completely right.
Overall, Claudette Colbert gives an effective, charming, sometimes moving, sometimes humorous performance that isn’t necessarily a great achievement in acting but still a delightful and memorable pierce of work, especially considering how underwritten and underused Anne Hilton actually is. For all this, Claudette Colbert receives
Since you went Away is certainly an interesting movie that serves as a time capsule for the time it was made in and therefore is presented with a lot of honesty and realism while also adding an expected amount of sentimentality and patriotism. But even though, the story mostly lacks focus when it comes to what it wants to present and very often the movie shifts from a story about a family during war time to a teenage romance or a comedy and it mostly guides its character and cast through overly constructed plots and situations. There is also a reason why Since you went Away is not called 'Mrs. Hilton' – it is a much stronger ensemble movie than Mrs. Miniver and does not present the character of Anne Hilton as its true center. Rather, Since you went Away focuses on Jennifer Jones as the oldest daughter of the family and it also never gives Claudette Colbert the same dramatic opportunities and moments as Mrs. Miniver did for Greer Garson. This lack of true depth or character development made it necessary to cast an actress in the role of Anne Hilton with enough earthy charm and personality to prevent the character from dropping too far into the background. And Claudette Colbert was certainly the right kind of actress for this kind of part.
Ten years after she won an Oscar for her role in the legendary comedy It happened one Night, Claudette Colbert received her third and final Oscar nomination for the much more conventional part of Anne Hilton. This character certainly benefited from Claudette Colbert’s screen personality even though it did not allow her any truly grand steps as an actress. In her part, Claudette Colbert is mostly reduced to re-acting, very seldom is she allowed to anchor any moments of the story and whenever she does find herself in the center of attention it is mostly for obligatory dramatic scenes. She does handle those scenes well, no question about it, but they never help her to make a bigger impact on the overall storyline. But all this does not mean that Claudette Colbert is invisible in Since you went Away – her strong screen presence and talent as an actress certainly prevent this but as the movie goes on, she does became a more and more fleeting presence even though she uses every bit of her screen time wisely. Claudette Colbert’s biggest misfortune is that the part of Anne Hilton not only offers no true challenge for her but the structure of Since you went Away also works in a way that makes her absence never truly noticeable – Anne Hilton is not the kind of character one misses when she not onscreen, rather she comes and goes without any changes in the overall tone of the movie. Still, Claudette Colbert is a lovely and strong presence in Since you went Away and even though she may not be its emotional centre she still was able to craft a strong, loveable, caring and three-dimensional human being while gliding through the story with undeniable elegance and charm that helped her to add that little extra spark to Anne Hilton which also was visible in so many other of the characters she played. The husband of Anne Hilton, who is so sorely missed during the entire movie, is already gone when Since you went Away begins. In the movie’s first scene, Claudette Colbert shows Anne sorrows, worries and pains as she comes home after she said goodbye to her husband and has to face her house and her life without him. Claudette Colbert’s facial work in this moment is certainly excellent as she projects all the different emotions that Anne Hilton is experiencing at this moment but her voice-over during this scene is just a tad too melodramatic and sometimes rather distracts from the seriousness of the scene instead of emphasizing it. A crying scene when she is alone in her bedroom also does not truly work in the dramatic context it is supposed to do because her crying feels rather exaggerated, as if Claudette Colbert was still the spoiled Ellie Andrews, and the musical score also underlines the scene with a rather cheery melody as if the movie wants the audience to laugh about this woman because she is basically helpless without a man at her side.
Claudette Colbert improves her performance as the movie goes on, especially after Joseph Cotton entered it as a close friend who openly admits that he has more feelings than friendship. The plot itself may seem rather forced but Claudette Colbert and Joseph Cotton have a wonderful chemistry together and never exaggerate the drama in their scenes – instead, both actors treat their relationship with humor and dignity and the storyline allows Claudette Colbert to shine in what she does so well: be earthy, elegant, charming and real at the same time. She also works nicely with Jennifer Jones and Shirley Temple as her daughters, playing the kind of mother a lot of children can only dream of – understanding, loving, guiding and full of joy and life. Especially her scenes with Jennifer Jones provide Claudette Colbert with various dramatic moments that contrast nicely with her otherwise charming and humorous work – when she has to tell her daughter some terrible news, Claudette Colbert manages to be just as moving as Jennifer Jones, showing a mother experiencing all the pain of her daughter at this moment.
So, Claudette Colbert is always strong whenever she is on the screen and actually asked to do something with her character but overall the part suffers from the conventional storytelling that does not see in Anne Hilton anything more than a wise and caring mother (even though the storyline with Joseph Cotton adds some welcome ‘pep’ to the proceedings) and presents her only with limited opportunities and challenges. Claudette Colbert knows how to craft her character and how to show a woman who is simultaneously missing her husband, organizing her family, charming an old friend, worrying about money and the future and must keep up a façade of strength and courage for the sake of her children. But all this happens mostly scene by scene, always depending on what the screenplay actually asks of her. Claudette Colbert does leave the movie on a high note, so – the scene when she discovers a Christmas present from her husband and is overcome with emotions, joy and sadness, is a wonderful example of old Hollywood melodrama done completely right.
Overall, Claudette Colbert gives an effective, charming, sometimes moving, sometimes humorous performance that isn’t necessarily a great achievement in acting but still a delightful and memorable pierce of work, especially considering how underwritten and underused Anne Hilton actually is. For all this, Claudette Colbert receives
10/24/2011
Best Actress 1944: Bette Davis in "Mr. Skeffington"
In 1943, Bette Davis’s husband collapsed while he walked down a street and died a few days later. It was revealed that his death was caused by a skull fracture and Hollywood’s biggest star had to testify before an inquest about her knowledge of an incident that might have caused his injury. Various sources report that Bette Davis did not know of any incident while others mention that she stated that her husband fell down a stair some time ago. A definite answer was never found and an incidental death was declared. Bette Davis apparently wanted some time off after this personal tragedy but was convinced by Jack Warner to start on her next film, Mr. Skeffington. Filming was unsurprisingly not easy for her – or for anyone else. The famous temperament of Bette Davis was apparently on full mood during this production and her outbursts, demands and complaints caused a lot of tension on the set. Such emotional tension might often lead to the creation of a brilliant performance but critics were not fully convinced this time – the Academy might have given her another nod for her work but Mr. Skeffington marked the end of her era as Hollywood’s most celebrated and powerful actress. She did not receive another nomination during this decade and slowly lost more and more of her fame and appeal until All about Eve brought her back into the spotlight.
All about Eve is actually a good place to start this review. You might wonder why since this movie was shot 6 years after Mr. Skeffington. But All about Eve is such a legendary and well-known movie which almost everybody has seen in their lifetime while Mr. Skeffington is a rather forgotten piece of work. And so, for all those who have not seen Mr. Skeffington and want to know more about Bette Davis’s performance in it, let me paint you a picture with the help of Margo Channing. There is a very famous scene in All about Eve in which Margo Channing finds out that Eve Harrington had been made her understudy without her knowledge. Margo storms into the theatre – but pretends not to know anything about Eve nor about the fact that she arrived much too late. But Margo Channing, even though a great actress, cannot fool anyone – her chirpy voice, her exaggerated smile, her big eyes all make clear that this woman is only pretending at this moment when she says things like ‘What’s all over?’ or ‘Eve? My understudy? I had no idea.’ Well, imagine Bette Davis using this acting style for 145 minutes – and you have her performance in Mr. Skeffington.
Pauline Kael famously wrote about Dustin Hoffman in Rain Man that he was ‘humping one note on a piano for two hours and eleven minutes.’ This review also perfectly sums up Bette Davis’s performance in Mr. Skeffington – with one big difference. In her case, she is humping the same wrong note on the piano. In my review of Maggie Smith in The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie I wrote that, in order to create a very eccentric, unusual and unconventional character an actress constantly has to walk a thin line between authentic and implausible, between larger-than-life and exaggerated, between domineering and oppressive. And while Maggie Smith did all this wonderfully right, Bette Davis did all this shockingly wrong. It’s easy to see what she was trying to archive – her Fanny is an empty-headed socialite, a woman who has no thought in her head apart from worrying about her looks and her beauty but Bette Davis so completely overdid her interpretation that she is not even able to see the line separating character and caricature anymore. Of course, an ignorant and gold-digging socialite could certainly be played in many different ways but Bette Davis for some reason decided to show Fanny as a collection of wide eyes and a high-pitched voice that delivers every line with an exaggerated naivety and that way made herself completely unable to create this character as the woman that is described, presented and supposed to carry this story. ‘She always look so…extreme’ – words from The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie but also very fitting for Bette Davis in Mr. Skeffington. But in the case of Maggie Smith they were used to describe a woman who does not fit into her conservative environment and were spoken by another movie character. In the case of Bette Davis they are spoken by me and they are not used to describe a character not fitting in but an actress not fitting in. I know that beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder but it’s simply shocking how Bette Davis could look so appalling only two years after she had done Now, Voyager and showed the world for always what a unique beauty she truly was. In Mr. Skeffington, her whole look is so unexplainably off-putting, a combination of Bette Davis’s own way of presenting her character and a make-up team that must have either been blind or on a personal vendetta against Bette Davis. In Now, Voyager, I could have accepted other characters calling her the prettiest girl in town, in Mr. Skeffington these words are only the top of a mountain full of problems. Considering that Bette Davis looks like Baby Jane in some early parts of the movie it simply cannot be taken seriously when other women want to look like her and wonder how she keeps so beautiful. As I said, beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder and I don’t blame Bette Davis for her looks in this movie since she looked so incredibly beautiful two years earlier but I blame her for exaggerating her acting so much that even her looks suffered from it since her facial work in Mr. Skeffington is very often almost grotesque – again, it’s commendable that she did not present Fanny as the typical Southern-belle-character and was not afraid to show her emptiness and shallowness without even trying to make her appealing in any way but by showing the true nature of Fanny to the audience she forgot to show a more pleasing, charming and winning side in the context of Mr. Skeffington. A high-pitched voice and big eyes may project all the internal flaws of Fanny but they don’t help to turn her into the most sought-after girl in town.
Bette Davis obviously wanted to show the superficiality of Fanny and to her defense, the character as written does exist of nothing else than superficiality. When her brother tells her that he is going to Europe, her answer is only a wondering ‘But isn’t there a war going on there?’. It is an incredibly challenging task for an actress to play such an empty-minded character in a way that is captivating the audience and it becomes even more challenging when the character is such a collection of fussy mannerisms and theatrical eccentricities – Bette Davis clearly saw the tasks she was given with this role but her way of bringing this character to live is often a failure and sometimes even unbearable. I always come back to Maggie Smith’s Jean Brodie because she’s such a perfect example of how to do right what Bette Davis did wrong – Maggie Smith knew where to stop, she know how to project that exaggerated acting style for an entire movie without ever losing the reality of her character. Bette Davis on the other hand lost the battle almost right from the start – her way of flirting with all the men at a party or later acting all coquettish with Mr. Skeffington to save the honor of her brother rather resembles a 40-year old Julie Marsden acting like a 12-year old on drugs. In her attempt to turn Fanny into a charming and lovely socialite while also showing her many flaws Bette Davis crafted a most unfortunate creation, one rid of any appeal or logic and that way unable to carry such a long and character-driven story. The movie makes you wonder if Bette Davis had become a parody of herself by 1944 – the big eyes, the eccentric behavior or her high-pitched voice all seem to indicate that she is running on auto-pilot, trusting on the effect of her performance and keeping the same tone in her voice, the same look in her eyes and the same delivery of her lines for the entire movie without any shades or nuances.
Bette Davis’s flat interpretation of this woman almost always comes at the expense of any true drama or character development. This superficial performance may seem very appropriate for such a superficial character – but Bette Davis’s unappealing performance does not consist of any noteworthy emotional honesty or depth which, even a character like this, needs to project in order to become believable. Bette Davis’s performance remains artificial even when it is supposed to be real. The biggest compliment she can receive is that she is at least consistent in her work because this makes it clear that Bette Davis certainly had a very clear idea of who Fanny was and how she wanted to present her – but as mentioned in the beginning, the challenge of the part lies in the ability to make Fanny both real and artificial and Bette Davis did not find this balance in her performance. She can be applauded for her decision to not go the easy route with Fanny but she cannot be applauded for the way she tried to realize this difficult route.
The part of Fanny is certainly an interesting one and offers an actress a lot of challenges – she goes from a beautiful socialite to an ugly, disease-ridden lonely woman who recognizes the truly important things in life while going along. And a role like this usually fits Bette Davis like a glove and there are some instances when she actually does find a human being underneath her own performance – but all these moments happen so rarely and are simply overshadowed by the dominant grotesque nature of her work which makes Geraldine Page appear tic-less. The frustrating truth of Bette Davis’s performance is the fact that her instincts are so often right – she shows the ugly sides of a supposedly beautiful woman until she shows the beautiful sides of a supposedly ugly woman. Her performance also becomes much more mannered as the movie goes along and again it makes sense that Fanny tries to maintain her youth with a coquettish behavior but all of Bette Davis’s instincts are never turned into a performance that bring them to life. It can be said that everything Bette Davis did was part of her character but, as mentioned before, she crossed the thin line between ‘success’ and ‘failure’ far too often.
I thought for a long time about the possible rating for this performance. Performances that receive a three are called ‘unsatisfying’ while performances with a 2,5 are called ‘disappointing’. And while I admire Bette Davis for doing something different with this role, all the aspects mentioned in this review are certainly a reason to call this performance a big disappointment. So, the grade for Bette Davis’s work is
All about Eve is actually a good place to start this review. You might wonder why since this movie was shot 6 years after Mr. Skeffington. But All about Eve is such a legendary and well-known movie which almost everybody has seen in their lifetime while Mr. Skeffington is a rather forgotten piece of work. And so, for all those who have not seen Mr. Skeffington and want to know more about Bette Davis’s performance in it, let me paint you a picture with the help of Margo Channing. There is a very famous scene in All about Eve in which Margo Channing finds out that Eve Harrington had been made her understudy without her knowledge. Margo storms into the theatre – but pretends not to know anything about Eve nor about the fact that she arrived much too late. But Margo Channing, even though a great actress, cannot fool anyone – her chirpy voice, her exaggerated smile, her big eyes all make clear that this woman is only pretending at this moment when she says things like ‘What’s all over?’ or ‘Eve? My understudy? I had no idea.’ Well, imagine Bette Davis using this acting style for 145 minutes – and you have her performance in Mr. Skeffington.
Pauline Kael famously wrote about Dustin Hoffman in Rain Man that he was ‘humping one note on a piano for two hours and eleven minutes.’ This review also perfectly sums up Bette Davis’s performance in Mr. Skeffington – with one big difference. In her case, she is humping the same wrong note on the piano. In my review of Maggie Smith in The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie I wrote that, in order to create a very eccentric, unusual and unconventional character an actress constantly has to walk a thin line between authentic and implausible, between larger-than-life and exaggerated, between domineering and oppressive. And while Maggie Smith did all this wonderfully right, Bette Davis did all this shockingly wrong. It’s easy to see what she was trying to archive – her Fanny is an empty-headed socialite, a woman who has no thought in her head apart from worrying about her looks and her beauty but Bette Davis so completely overdid her interpretation that she is not even able to see the line separating character and caricature anymore. Of course, an ignorant and gold-digging socialite could certainly be played in many different ways but Bette Davis for some reason decided to show Fanny as a collection of wide eyes and a high-pitched voice that delivers every line with an exaggerated naivety and that way made herself completely unable to create this character as the woman that is described, presented and supposed to carry this story. ‘She always look so…extreme’ – words from The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie but also very fitting for Bette Davis in Mr. Skeffington. But in the case of Maggie Smith they were used to describe a woman who does not fit into her conservative environment and were spoken by another movie character. In the case of Bette Davis they are spoken by me and they are not used to describe a character not fitting in but an actress not fitting in. I know that beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder but it’s simply shocking how Bette Davis could look so appalling only two years after she had done Now, Voyager and showed the world for always what a unique beauty she truly was. In Mr. Skeffington, her whole look is so unexplainably off-putting, a combination of Bette Davis’s own way of presenting her character and a make-up team that must have either been blind or on a personal vendetta against Bette Davis. In Now, Voyager, I could have accepted other characters calling her the prettiest girl in town, in Mr. Skeffington these words are only the top of a mountain full of problems. Considering that Bette Davis looks like Baby Jane in some early parts of the movie it simply cannot be taken seriously when other women want to look like her and wonder how she keeps so beautiful. As I said, beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder and I don’t blame Bette Davis for her looks in this movie since she looked so incredibly beautiful two years earlier but I blame her for exaggerating her acting so much that even her looks suffered from it since her facial work in Mr. Skeffington is very often almost grotesque – again, it’s commendable that she did not present Fanny as the typical Southern-belle-character and was not afraid to show her emptiness and shallowness without even trying to make her appealing in any way but by showing the true nature of Fanny to the audience she forgot to show a more pleasing, charming and winning side in the context of Mr. Skeffington. A high-pitched voice and big eyes may project all the internal flaws of Fanny but they don’t help to turn her into the most sought-after girl in town. Bette Davis obviously wanted to show the superficiality of Fanny and to her defense, the character as written does exist of nothing else than superficiality. When her brother tells her that he is going to Europe, her answer is only a wondering ‘But isn’t there a war going on there?’. It is an incredibly challenging task for an actress to play such an empty-minded character in a way that is captivating the audience and it becomes even more challenging when the character is such a collection of fussy mannerisms and theatrical eccentricities – Bette Davis clearly saw the tasks she was given with this role but her way of bringing this character to live is often a failure and sometimes even unbearable. I always come back to Maggie Smith’s Jean Brodie because she’s such a perfect example of how to do right what Bette Davis did wrong – Maggie Smith knew where to stop, she know how to project that exaggerated acting style for an entire movie without ever losing the reality of her character. Bette Davis on the other hand lost the battle almost right from the start – her way of flirting with all the men at a party or later acting all coquettish with Mr. Skeffington to save the honor of her brother rather resembles a 40-year old Julie Marsden acting like a 12-year old on drugs. In her attempt to turn Fanny into a charming and lovely socialite while also showing her many flaws Bette Davis crafted a most unfortunate creation, one rid of any appeal or logic and that way unable to carry such a long and character-driven story. The movie makes you wonder if Bette Davis had become a parody of herself by 1944 – the big eyes, the eccentric behavior or her high-pitched voice all seem to indicate that she is running on auto-pilot, trusting on the effect of her performance and keeping the same tone in her voice, the same look in her eyes and the same delivery of her lines for the entire movie without any shades or nuances.
Bette Davis’s flat interpretation of this woman almost always comes at the expense of any true drama or character development. This superficial performance may seem very appropriate for such a superficial character – but Bette Davis’s unappealing performance does not consist of any noteworthy emotional honesty or depth which, even a character like this, needs to project in order to become believable. Bette Davis’s performance remains artificial even when it is supposed to be real. The biggest compliment she can receive is that she is at least consistent in her work because this makes it clear that Bette Davis certainly had a very clear idea of who Fanny was and how she wanted to present her – but as mentioned in the beginning, the challenge of the part lies in the ability to make Fanny both real and artificial and Bette Davis did not find this balance in her performance. She can be applauded for her decision to not go the easy route with Fanny but she cannot be applauded for the way she tried to realize this difficult route.
The part of Fanny is certainly an interesting one and offers an actress a lot of challenges – she goes from a beautiful socialite to an ugly, disease-ridden lonely woman who recognizes the truly important things in life while going along. And a role like this usually fits Bette Davis like a glove and there are some instances when she actually does find a human being underneath her own performance – but all these moments happen so rarely and are simply overshadowed by the dominant grotesque nature of her work which makes Geraldine Page appear tic-less. The frustrating truth of Bette Davis’s performance is the fact that her instincts are so often right – she shows the ugly sides of a supposedly beautiful woman until she shows the beautiful sides of a supposedly ugly woman. Her performance also becomes much more mannered as the movie goes along and again it makes sense that Fanny tries to maintain her youth with a coquettish behavior but all of Bette Davis’s instincts are never turned into a performance that bring them to life. It can be said that everything Bette Davis did was part of her character but, as mentioned before, she crossed the thin line between ‘success’ and ‘failure’ far too often.
I thought for a long time about the possible rating for this performance. Performances that receive a three are called ‘unsatisfying’ while performances with a 2,5 are called ‘disappointing’. And while I admire Bette Davis for doing something different with this role, all the aspects mentioned in this review are certainly a reason to call this performance a big disappointment. So, the grade for Bette Davis’s work is
10/22/2011
Best Actress 1944: Greer Garson in "Mrs. Parkington"
Somehow, Greer Garson always seems like a perfect product of the 40s. Very often she projected that typical, rather dated acting style from those years, a certain melodrama that dominates her performances and includes long stares into the open space, very controlled body movements, a posing in front of the camera and a tendency to milk every scene for dramatic effect. But Greer Garson had one, no two important advantages over other actresses from that era that helped her to become a product of her time while appearing strangely timeless, too – namely the ability to combine her acting style with a certain naturalism that enabled her to appear surprisingly fresh and spontaneous and a huge amount of charm that carried most of her work and made it possible for her not to rely only on her talent for melodrama but also to fill her character with poise, sweetness and dignity. She never had to rely on over-the-top crying scenes or hysteric breakdowns to command the screen – the phrase ‘less is more’ was certainly the credo of her acting performances. And this combination of charm, naturalism, subtlety and obvious melodrama resulted in performances that are almost always entertaining and lovely to look at even though they may never truly appear like truly grand achievements. From a modern point-of-view, most of her work may appear rather harmless and limited, even though also satisfying enough to make it understandable that she used to be such an Oscar darling during her reign. But more than her old-fashioned acting style it is the quality of her movies has damaged the reputation of Greer Garson over the years. By 1944, she would probably have been nominated for reading the phone book – even though she was clearly capable of more. But for an actress of her status it does seem confusing that she was so seldom cast in movies that truly deserved her. Next to her, Bette Davis is the only other actress to have received 5 consecutive nominations for Best Actress. But Bette Davis starred in Jezebel, Dark Victory, The Letter, The Little Foxes and Now, Voyager – all of them classics in their own way and hardly forgotten. Greer Garson made her Oscar-run with Blossoms in the Dust, Mrs. Miniver, Madame Curie, Mrs. Parkington and Valley of Decision. Mrs. Miniver is at least a winner of the Best Picture award, even though a rather forgotten one, but the rest of these movies are standard melodrama without any true recommendable features apart from its leading lady. This does not mean that these movies resemble pictures like Sophie’s Choice or Monster which are also average movies but with overpowering lead performances. A Greer-Garson-movie is always a rather dated, lifeless and unremarkable experience, even with Greer Garson’s charming presence. And these dated and unremarkable movies also did hardly ever offer this actress truly challenging parts but mostly let her do what she did best – be gracious, charming, shed some tears and hold her head in the right angle in front of the camera.
This all sounds maybe rather confusing. Was she a good actress or a bad actress? Well, the answer is easy: definitely a good actress but she’s always caught in her own limited range and never as great as one might expect her to be, considering her overall 7 Best Actress nods. And what about her role as Susie Parkington in the not very cleverly titled Mrs. Parkington? Well, the movie itself is the average Greer-Garson-vehicle – and even among them it is rather sub-standard but it also offers the wonderful realization that Greer Garson could truly rise above her material sometimes even when she still did not move herself outside her own comfort zone. Mrs. Parkington receives all its energy and emotional content from Greer Garson and she single-handedly prevents the movie from collapsing under its own melodrama and pretentiousness. Mrs. Parkington only exists to supply the leading actress with a flashy part and so it forgot everything else – from a well-written screenplay to an appealing supporting cast (with one exception) to any other interesting characters (again, with one exception). So basically, her performance should not differ very much from most of her other turns, Oscar-nominated or not. And in a lot of ways it doesn’t – but there is something about Greer Garson’s work in Mrs. Parkington that somehow comes together so beautifully entertaining, moving and captivating that she and her performance, even though in no way unique or a step out of her comfort zone, feels somehow more impressive than it usually does. Again, this does not mean that this performance will secure her a place among the all-time greats but she does project such an admirable character out of paper-thin writing that it feels hard to deny her a little more respect than usually.
Mrs. Parkington, as mentioned before, is neither the height of sophistication nor of entertainment. It does what so many movies during the 40s did – tell the story of a woman’s life in flashbacks while the present challenges her with various serious problems and situations. Mrs. Parkington – the movie and the character – ask a lot of Greer Garson; she has to be a young, poor girl working in her mother's guest house who marries a wealthy Major from whom she begins to distance herself until she realizes in the end that she indeed loves him. All this while the present-day Susie has to deal with her spoiled children who certainly did not turn out the way she probably hoped they would have. The movie also covers a large part of Susie’s life – from her days as a young woman to an old grandmother. Yes, it is indeed a showy role and Greer Garson plays it with her usual mix of freshness and old-fashioned posing but still with a stronger emphasis on her natural and charming side than her melodramatic one. When Greer Garson first enters the movie, in her old-woman make-up, the whole performance basically depends on the first few seconds of her work – is she convincing and that way invites the audience to follow her story or does it all appear too unconvincing to be anything else than preposterous? Thankfully Greer Garson did everything right in this first moment – the way she nods at her family which is waiting for her downstairs is so different from her usual graceful self and in just a few moments communicates the feelings of a proud, loveable and lively woman, a woman who undoubtedly looks back at a long and eventful life. Greer Garson captured the spirit of this woman so well in this moment that she creates the foundation of everything to follow in this single scene.
In Mrs. Parkington, Greer Garson certainly faces one of the most curious dilemmas in movie history: she manages to be both too young and too old for her role. But as just mentioned, she solves the dilemma of the old Susie Parkington extremely well – there is warmth, wisdom and strength in her portrayal and she also combines the woman of the present-day scenes perfectly with the woman of the flashback scenes. There are obvious moments when the audience certainly has to wonder how her children could turn out to be such problems but Greer Garson manages to show that Susie is wondering the same, too, and therefore does not need to give an answer because there is none. Greer Garson’s performance does not work quite as well during her early flashback scenes – her age is far too visible in these moments and she sometimes simply lacks credibility as an unsophisticated woman growing up in the middle of nowhere. But Greer Garson again is much more relaxed, open and honest in her portrayal than usual – she does not speak for a long time after the inevitable Walter Pidgeon appeard but the lusty and fascinated looks she is throwing at him make her intentions perfectly clear. Greer Garson also did not overdo these scenes – she did not try to copy girlish charm or teenaged attraction but kept her characterization very low-key. The biggest problems in Greer Garson’s performance come during the early scenes with Walter Pidgeon but she is not to be blamed for them – in Pidgeon, she has an impossibly pompous screen partner, playing a purely despicable character. During what is certainly supposed to be a romantic scene when they are both talking at night on a balcony, they hear a man slap his wife which only causes Parkington to say ‘Ah, he must love her very much’ before he asks Susie if she would like to be thrashed by him. Even Greer Garson seems to be lost in this scene. Later, things get even worse when Susie’s mother dies – a death for which Parkington could be indirectly blamed. But Greer Garson reacts to the news of her mother’s death only with a stern look without any emotional content. But maybe she cannot believe that the script is actually forcing her to listen to Parkington trying to cheer her up by telling her she must come to New York with him. Again, maybe Greer Garson’s lost expression is her inability to find any kind of emotional outlet for a horrible scene like this and it’s hard to blame her but she could have at least tried…Later, she suddenly finds an unexpected shining moment among this insulting plotline. The scene in which Parkington proposes to her is again almost offensive but her delivery of the line ‘Oh, Major Parkington’, which is basically her agreement to his proposal, is as good as it gets under the circumstances, maybe even better. She finds the right amount of surprise, delight, doubt and fear in this short sentence without any sentimental exaggeration.
Later, the chemistry between both actors improves especially because they never play the love between their characters as something pure, unique and eternal – instead, they give a realistic portrayal of a marriage that was half out of love and halt out of convenience while these two different personalities get used to each other. Greer Garson also shows the growth in Susie with slow, logical steps – it’s an inevitable process as Susie needs to find her place in New York’s society and deal with the behavior of her husband which is causing unhappiness and ruin around them. Her sad, painful looks during a ruined dinner party and later the scene when she leaves him because she cannot stand his behavior anymore are done very movingly by Greer Garson. Overall, it’s very impressive to watch how she takes Susie from the naïve, inexperienced girl to a woman who takes her life into her own hands, intervened with the scenes of a wise and loving grandmother.
Greer Garson’s chemistry with Walter Pidgeon may sometimes lack the necessary spark and plausibility but she always works extremely well with Agnes Mooreheard – the aforementioned exception to the unimpressive supporting cast. As a French aristocrat, she gives new life and energy into the movie whenever the two leads lack too much of it. In her relationship to the Baroness, Greer Garson again shows a constant growth in Susie – first, she does not know if she can trust this woman who used to be an important part in the life of her husband and then, step by step, develops a true and meaningful friendship with her.
Greer Garson may not truly create something otherworldly in her performance but the sheer energy and naturalness she shows in this part is enough to praise her for having done so much with so little. The way she constantly blows her hair out her face is maybe a simple and banal characteristic that often comes at the expense of more important emotional reactions but she does it with so much vitality and so often contrasts with her usual screen personality while never leaving her comfort zone that it’s quite simply much more intriguing and entertaining than expected. The audience certainly wonders how a woman who found so much strength insider herself during the run of the movie could accept such behavior from her children – and so the final scene of Mrs. Parkington, when the older Susie suddenly finds her youthful spirit again and decides to act the way she thinks is best, brings the whole character of Susie to full circle. For all this, Greer Garson receives
This all sounds maybe rather confusing. Was she a good actress or a bad actress? Well, the answer is easy: definitely a good actress but she’s always caught in her own limited range and never as great as one might expect her to be, considering her overall 7 Best Actress nods. And what about her role as Susie Parkington in the not very cleverly titled Mrs. Parkington? Well, the movie itself is the average Greer-Garson-vehicle – and even among them it is rather sub-standard but it also offers the wonderful realization that Greer Garson could truly rise above her material sometimes even when she still did not move herself outside her own comfort zone. Mrs. Parkington receives all its energy and emotional content from Greer Garson and she single-handedly prevents the movie from collapsing under its own melodrama and pretentiousness. Mrs. Parkington only exists to supply the leading actress with a flashy part and so it forgot everything else – from a well-written screenplay to an appealing supporting cast (with one exception) to any other interesting characters (again, with one exception). So basically, her performance should not differ very much from most of her other turns, Oscar-nominated or not. And in a lot of ways it doesn’t – but there is something about Greer Garson’s work in Mrs. Parkington that somehow comes together so beautifully entertaining, moving and captivating that she and her performance, even though in no way unique or a step out of her comfort zone, feels somehow more impressive than it usually does. Again, this does not mean that this performance will secure her a place among the all-time greats but she does project such an admirable character out of paper-thin writing that it feels hard to deny her a little more respect than usually.
Mrs. Parkington, as mentioned before, is neither the height of sophistication nor of entertainment. It does what so many movies during the 40s did – tell the story of a woman’s life in flashbacks while the present challenges her with various serious problems and situations. Mrs. Parkington – the movie and the character – ask a lot of Greer Garson; she has to be a young, poor girl working in her mother's guest house who marries a wealthy Major from whom she begins to distance herself until she realizes in the end that she indeed loves him. All this while the present-day Susie has to deal with her spoiled children who certainly did not turn out the way she probably hoped they would have. The movie also covers a large part of Susie’s life – from her days as a young woman to an old grandmother. Yes, it is indeed a showy role and Greer Garson plays it with her usual mix of freshness and old-fashioned posing but still with a stronger emphasis on her natural and charming side than her melodramatic one. When Greer Garson first enters the movie, in her old-woman make-up, the whole performance basically depends on the first few seconds of her work – is she convincing and that way invites the audience to follow her story or does it all appear too unconvincing to be anything else than preposterous? Thankfully Greer Garson did everything right in this first moment – the way she nods at her family which is waiting for her downstairs is so different from her usual graceful self and in just a few moments communicates the feelings of a proud, loveable and lively woman, a woman who undoubtedly looks back at a long and eventful life. Greer Garson captured the spirit of this woman so well in this moment that she creates the foundation of everything to follow in this single scene. In Mrs. Parkington, Greer Garson certainly faces one of the most curious dilemmas in movie history: she manages to be both too young and too old for her role. But as just mentioned, she solves the dilemma of the old Susie Parkington extremely well – there is warmth, wisdom and strength in her portrayal and she also combines the woman of the present-day scenes perfectly with the woman of the flashback scenes. There are obvious moments when the audience certainly has to wonder how her children could turn out to be such problems but Greer Garson manages to show that Susie is wondering the same, too, and therefore does not need to give an answer because there is none. Greer Garson’s performance does not work quite as well during her early flashback scenes – her age is far too visible in these moments and she sometimes simply lacks credibility as an unsophisticated woman growing up in the middle of nowhere. But Greer Garson again is much more relaxed, open and honest in her portrayal than usual – she does not speak for a long time after the inevitable Walter Pidgeon appeard but the lusty and fascinated looks she is throwing at him make her intentions perfectly clear. Greer Garson also did not overdo these scenes – she did not try to copy girlish charm or teenaged attraction but kept her characterization very low-key. The biggest problems in Greer Garson’s performance come during the early scenes with Walter Pidgeon but she is not to be blamed for them – in Pidgeon, she has an impossibly pompous screen partner, playing a purely despicable character. During what is certainly supposed to be a romantic scene when they are both talking at night on a balcony, they hear a man slap his wife which only causes Parkington to say ‘Ah, he must love her very much’ before he asks Susie if she would like to be thrashed by him. Even Greer Garson seems to be lost in this scene. Later, things get even worse when Susie’s mother dies – a death for which Parkington could be indirectly blamed. But Greer Garson reacts to the news of her mother’s death only with a stern look without any emotional content. But maybe she cannot believe that the script is actually forcing her to listen to Parkington trying to cheer her up by telling her she must come to New York with him. Again, maybe Greer Garson’s lost expression is her inability to find any kind of emotional outlet for a horrible scene like this and it’s hard to blame her but she could have at least tried…Later, she suddenly finds an unexpected shining moment among this insulting plotline. The scene in which Parkington proposes to her is again almost offensive but her delivery of the line ‘Oh, Major Parkington’, which is basically her agreement to his proposal, is as good as it gets under the circumstances, maybe even better. She finds the right amount of surprise, delight, doubt and fear in this short sentence without any sentimental exaggeration.
Later, the chemistry between both actors improves especially because they never play the love between their characters as something pure, unique and eternal – instead, they give a realistic portrayal of a marriage that was half out of love and halt out of convenience while these two different personalities get used to each other. Greer Garson also shows the growth in Susie with slow, logical steps – it’s an inevitable process as Susie needs to find her place in New York’s society and deal with the behavior of her husband which is causing unhappiness and ruin around them. Her sad, painful looks during a ruined dinner party and later the scene when she leaves him because she cannot stand his behavior anymore are done very movingly by Greer Garson. Overall, it’s very impressive to watch how she takes Susie from the naïve, inexperienced girl to a woman who takes her life into her own hands, intervened with the scenes of a wise and loving grandmother.
Greer Garson’s chemistry with Walter Pidgeon may sometimes lack the necessary spark and plausibility but she always works extremely well with Agnes Mooreheard – the aforementioned exception to the unimpressive supporting cast. As a French aristocrat, she gives new life and energy into the movie whenever the two leads lack too much of it. In her relationship to the Baroness, Greer Garson again shows a constant growth in Susie – first, she does not know if she can trust this woman who used to be an important part in the life of her husband and then, step by step, develops a true and meaningful friendship with her.
Greer Garson may not truly create something otherworldly in her performance but the sheer energy and naturalness she shows in this part is enough to praise her for having done so much with so little. The way she constantly blows her hair out her face is maybe a simple and banal characteristic that often comes at the expense of more important emotional reactions but she does it with so much vitality and so often contrasts with her usual screen personality while never leaving her comfort zone that it’s quite simply much more intriguing and entertaining than expected. The audience certainly wonders how a woman who found so much strength insider herself during the run of the movie could accept such behavior from her children – and so the final scene of Mrs. Parkington, when the older Susie suddenly finds her youthful spirit again and decides to act the way she thinks is best, brings the whole character of Susie to full circle. For all this, Greer Garson receives
10/18/2011
Best Actress 1944: Barbara Stanwyck in "Double Indemnity"
The trivia regarding Barbara Stanwyck’s participation in Billy Wilder’s Double Indemnity is certainly one of the most interesting and well-known in Hollywood-history. After the actress expressed her doubts about the role since it was so different from the characters she usually played, Billy Wilder simply asked her ‘Well, are you a mouse or an actress?’ Definitely a wonderful question that should have been asked much more often in the old days of Hollywood when so many actors and actresses were afraid to play roles outside of their carefully constructed screen image. And so, Barbara Stanwyck said yes to what would become the signature performance of her career in Hollywood’s most famous film-noir.
Barbara Stanwyck is an actress who doesn’t have the same lasting effect as other actresses from her era, like Bette Davis, Katharine Hepburn or Ingrid Bergman. But the reason is not that she didn’t offer the same amount of talent – because, oh, she did! – but because there was never something truly ‘Barbara-Stanwyck’-like about her. Bette Davis and Katharine Hepburn had such strong personalities which they brought to every role they played – no matter how deeply they sunk into their parts, their performances are always a ‘Bette-Davis-performance’ or a ‘Katharine-Hepburn-performance’. This does not mean that they couldn’t disappear into their parts – because, oh, they did – but it means that they always left their mark on the characters they played. Barbara Stanwyck was different simply because she lacked that strong, unmistakable screen presence – don’t get me wrong, she possessed a lot of strength on the screen but she never felt truly unique or one-of-a-kind. Because of this, she was able to disappear into her parts like very few actresses from her time did – she could be a supportive mother, a sassy moll, a terrified murder victim or a cold, manipulative femme fatale. Of course, the success of all these performances varied – some are strong, some are weak – but Barbara Stanwyck always became one with the character she was playing. There is a reason why so many people can easily imitate Bette Davis, Audrey Hepburn, Katharine Hepburn or Ingrid Bergman – but how would you imitate Barbara Stanwyck? And so Barbara Stanwyck might have been nervous about playing a role like Phyllis Dietrichson, a cold woman convincing an insurance salesman to help her kill her husband, but it was no surprise that she was fully up to the task adjusting her own acting style to the character she was playing and the movie she was appearing in. Well, but how did she use this ability in regards to actually crafting and playing this character?
Double Indemnity is a movie that not necessarily makes it easy for the actors appearing in it. The script follows a very clever idea but it suffers from the fact that the dialogue is sometimes almost unbearably exaggerated in the way it constantly presents clever one-liners, double entendres, tough talk and much, much more. On top of that, the characters in Double Indemnity rather resemble a cardboard, missing true life and recognizable humanity. So, the screenplay of Double Indemnity could easy have ruined the entire experience – if there hadn’t been an outstanding director and actors who were able to give the characters the life and depth they missed on the page. Billy Wilder created the perfect atmosphere to make the story of Phyllis Dietrichson and Walter Neff believable – that undeniable ‘film noir’-atmosphere, an aura that isn’t real but a stylized creation. And if a director is able to achieve the tasks the screenplay has given him, then it results in a perfect symbiosis – and then also the screenplay, that exaggerated, undeveloped screenplay, turns into something wonderful. The trick is that only if the atmosphere of a film noir has been successfully created the screenplay can unfold its magic – if the director is not up to the task, everything will only seem like a cheap melodrama from the 40s instead of a timeless classic. Well, as mentioned before, Billy Wilder was certainly up to the task of creating this unique world of Double Indemnity – so what about the actors? Were they able to take their thin characters and play them in a way that turned them into human beings that are both real but simultaneously just as surreal as their environment? Thankfully yes. Fred MacMurray and Edward G. Robinson both perfectly understood their material, the screenplay’s guidelines and Billy Wilder’s vision and that way delivered very strong performances that wonderfully contributed to the success of the movie. And, of course, Barbara Stanwyck did so, too.
In her work, Barbara Stanwyck perfectly combined the realism of her own acting with a very stylized approach – everything about her, from the way she uses her eyes right down to the movement of her body, works together to create a woman that can be seen as both: realistic and surreal, able to stand as a rational creation while appearing to be something right out of a dark fairy tale. With her performance, she was able to combine the need for realism to carry the plot with the need for stylized substance to carry the style of the movie. Phyllis Dietrichson is a character that can exist in the world of Double Indemnity just as well as in a more realistic, authentic context. But even beyond that, she inserted various different interpretations into Phyllis Dietrichson and was able to project them all the same time. She never tried to turn this woman into something extraordinary, a cold-blooded symbol of evil, but instead always keeps her extremely ordinary, even appalling as the story moves along. She is not an elegant and mysterious Lady McBeth but rather a spoiled and lazy woman who wants her own comfort above everything else. And it’s thrilling to see how Barbara Stanwyck gives reason after reason why this woman should neither be trusted nor be admired while also turning her into an endlessly fascinating creation. The fact that Barbara Stanwyck could make this woman completely common and unique at the same time is surely a grand achievement that helped to turn Double Indemnity into such a classic. Because Barbara Stanwyck does not only present these two point-of-views on her character at the same time, but she also develops them both as the movie moves forward. Phyllis Dietrichson may appear extremely fascinating at first but the more one watches her, the more she turns into a repellent creation – but mysteriously Barbara Stanwyck herself remains strangely unaffected by that. Phyllis Dietrichson may appear common and loathly but Barbara Stanwyck always remains completely watchable and captivating as she has complete control over Phyllis, her transformation into her and her distance from her. This is also shown by Barbara Stanwyck’s ability to make Phyllis so incredibly…ungifted. When she fist tries to seduce Walter or especially during her scene at the insurance agency after the death of her husband, it becomes clear that Phyllis is not a woman who can hide her true feelings completely. Her complaints about the treatment she receives at the agency are done by Barbara Stanwyck with a brilliant double-meaning as she acts in a way that always makes it clear that Phyllis is hiding something but this is only clear because the audience knows the truth. At the same time, she tries her best to be as convincing as possible at this moment but it's understandable if the character of Edward G. Robinson senses that something is not right. Barbara Stanwyck manages to always make Phyllis an amateur, maybe a very gifted one but still an amateur, an impatient woman trying her best to get her wishes fulfilled but often too simple and obvious, unable to deliver all the necessary techniques for the aims she wants to achieve. She doesn’t make her intentions a secret when she meets Walter as Barbara Stanwyck shows that Phyllis is naïve enough to believe that she could either fool Walter or win him over in a few seconds. Everything about her Phyllis seems like a cover – but there isn’t much underneath it. Barbara Stanwyck is not afraid to show how empty Phyllis Dietrichson really is. Phyllis isn’t a woman that is trying to hide the deeper truth inside her because there is not much depth or truth inside of her. Barbara Stanwyck lets Phyllis become much more authentic whenever she is acting according to her own instincts, free from danger, judgment or even view – her facial work during the scene in which she is hiding behind a door is an outstanding sight that perfectly mirrors the tension of the scene while somehow also showing how much Phyllis is enjoying this moment, the thrill of the danger and the intimacy of the crime that bound her together with Walter.
As already mentioned, the screenplay offers the biggest obstacle for Barbara Stanwyck – not only is the character of Phyllis strangely underdeveloped and presented as a woman that only exists to hate her husband but Double Indemnity also puts her into various situations that could easily destroy almost any performance. A lot of times movies want to make the audience believe that two people could fall in love at first sight – by now, this cliché has been presented so many times in so many different movies that it somehow became believable. But Double Indemnity asks of Barbara Stanwyck not only to make Fred MacMacMurray’s Walter fall in love with her but becomes obsessed with her and accept her proposal to kill her husband – all pretty much during the first scenes of the movie. No actress should be able to make such a plot believable – but if the story lacks credibility here, Barbara Stanwyck does not. She does not try to make the premise of the plot believable at this point but instead focuses on the interconnection between herself and Fred MacMurray. And again, both actors are able to completely merge in the atmosphere of their movie and that way create a credibility in their story that a lot of actors would have failed to do. Barbara Stanwyck’s Phyllis is not sexy in the traditional meaning of the word – the horrible wig, the strangely cut cloths, her hardened face that never appears truly soft all create a woman that is almost rid of any true admirable features but Barbara Stanwyck managed to find a level of mature eroticism in Phyllis that allowed her to make everything about her plausible. She doesn't need to be sexy because she is actually much mure. She and Fred MacMurray basically turned the first half of Double Indemnity in one long sexual act – from their foreplay to their first intimacies to the growing heat and tension of the plot. And if their plan develops like an sexual intercourse, then Barbara Stanwyck’s face during the scene in the car tells very clearly when Phyllis reaches her climax. That little smile, that satisfied look in her eyes, that complete pleasure, projected with so much subtlety, is an unforgettable moment. During the whole movie, Barbara Stanwyck knows how to use her face most effectively to display desire, sneer, hate and lust. With this, she always underlines the tension of Double Indemnity perfectly.
It’s easy to see why this performance became a role model for all femme fatales to follow while never having been copied – Barbara Stanwyck added the needed mysteriousness and eroticism to the role but she was not afraid to show a more vulgar and common side in her character which helped her to achieve a much more realistic and three-dimensional performance. She lies to the audience about Phyllis while telling them the truth at the same time. A very engaging, dangerous and spellbinding performance that receives
Barbara Stanwyck is an actress who doesn’t have the same lasting effect as other actresses from her era, like Bette Davis, Katharine Hepburn or Ingrid Bergman. But the reason is not that she didn’t offer the same amount of talent – because, oh, she did! – but because there was never something truly ‘Barbara-Stanwyck’-like about her. Bette Davis and Katharine Hepburn had such strong personalities which they brought to every role they played – no matter how deeply they sunk into their parts, their performances are always a ‘Bette-Davis-performance’ or a ‘Katharine-Hepburn-performance’. This does not mean that they couldn’t disappear into their parts – because, oh, they did – but it means that they always left their mark on the characters they played. Barbara Stanwyck was different simply because she lacked that strong, unmistakable screen presence – don’t get me wrong, she possessed a lot of strength on the screen but she never felt truly unique or one-of-a-kind. Because of this, she was able to disappear into her parts like very few actresses from her time did – she could be a supportive mother, a sassy moll, a terrified murder victim or a cold, manipulative femme fatale. Of course, the success of all these performances varied – some are strong, some are weak – but Barbara Stanwyck always became one with the character she was playing. There is a reason why so many people can easily imitate Bette Davis, Audrey Hepburn, Katharine Hepburn or Ingrid Bergman – but how would you imitate Barbara Stanwyck? And so Barbara Stanwyck might have been nervous about playing a role like Phyllis Dietrichson, a cold woman convincing an insurance salesman to help her kill her husband, but it was no surprise that she was fully up to the task adjusting her own acting style to the character she was playing and the movie she was appearing in. Well, but how did she use this ability in regards to actually crafting and playing this character?
Double Indemnity is a movie that not necessarily makes it easy for the actors appearing in it. The script follows a very clever idea but it suffers from the fact that the dialogue is sometimes almost unbearably exaggerated in the way it constantly presents clever one-liners, double entendres, tough talk and much, much more. On top of that, the characters in Double Indemnity rather resemble a cardboard, missing true life and recognizable humanity. So, the screenplay of Double Indemnity could easy have ruined the entire experience – if there hadn’t been an outstanding director and actors who were able to give the characters the life and depth they missed on the page. Billy Wilder created the perfect atmosphere to make the story of Phyllis Dietrichson and Walter Neff believable – that undeniable ‘film noir’-atmosphere, an aura that isn’t real but a stylized creation. And if a director is able to achieve the tasks the screenplay has given him, then it results in a perfect symbiosis – and then also the screenplay, that exaggerated, undeveloped screenplay, turns into something wonderful. The trick is that only if the atmosphere of a film noir has been successfully created the screenplay can unfold its magic – if the director is not up to the task, everything will only seem like a cheap melodrama from the 40s instead of a timeless classic. Well, as mentioned before, Billy Wilder was certainly up to the task of creating this unique world of Double Indemnity – so what about the actors? Were they able to take their thin characters and play them in a way that turned them into human beings that are both real but simultaneously just as surreal as their environment? Thankfully yes. Fred MacMurray and Edward G. Robinson both perfectly understood their material, the screenplay’s guidelines and Billy Wilder’s vision and that way delivered very strong performances that wonderfully contributed to the success of the movie. And, of course, Barbara Stanwyck did so, too. In her work, Barbara Stanwyck perfectly combined the realism of her own acting with a very stylized approach – everything about her, from the way she uses her eyes right down to the movement of her body, works together to create a woman that can be seen as both: realistic and surreal, able to stand as a rational creation while appearing to be something right out of a dark fairy tale. With her performance, she was able to combine the need for realism to carry the plot with the need for stylized substance to carry the style of the movie. Phyllis Dietrichson is a character that can exist in the world of Double Indemnity just as well as in a more realistic, authentic context. But even beyond that, she inserted various different interpretations into Phyllis Dietrichson and was able to project them all the same time. She never tried to turn this woman into something extraordinary, a cold-blooded symbol of evil, but instead always keeps her extremely ordinary, even appalling as the story moves along. She is not an elegant and mysterious Lady McBeth but rather a spoiled and lazy woman who wants her own comfort above everything else. And it’s thrilling to see how Barbara Stanwyck gives reason after reason why this woman should neither be trusted nor be admired while also turning her into an endlessly fascinating creation. The fact that Barbara Stanwyck could make this woman completely common and unique at the same time is surely a grand achievement that helped to turn Double Indemnity into such a classic. Because Barbara Stanwyck does not only present these two point-of-views on her character at the same time, but she also develops them both as the movie moves forward. Phyllis Dietrichson may appear extremely fascinating at first but the more one watches her, the more she turns into a repellent creation – but mysteriously Barbara Stanwyck herself remains strangely unaffected by that. Phyllis Dietrichson may appear common and loathly but Barbara Stanwyck always remains completely watchable and captivating as she has complete control over Phyllis, her transformation into her and her distance from her. This is also shown by Barbara Stanwyck’s ability to make Phyllis so incredibly…ungifted. When she fist tries to seduce Walter or especially during her scene at the insurance agency after the death of her husband, it becomes clear that Phyllis is not a woman who can hide her true feelings completely. Her complaints about the treatment she receives at the agency are done by Barbara Stanwyck with a brilliant double-meaning as she acts in a way that always makes it clear that Phyllis is hiding something but this is only clear because the audience knows the truth. At the same time, she tries her best to be as convincing as possible at this moment but it's understandable if the character of Edward G. Robinson senses that something is not right. Barbara Stanwyck manages to always make Phyllis an amateur, maybe a very gifted one but still an amateur, an impatient woman trying her best to get her wishes fulfilled but often too simple and obvious, unable to deliver all the necessary techniques for the aims she wants to achieve. She doesn’t make her intentions a secret when she meets Walter as Barbara Stanwyck shows that Phyllis is naïve enough to believe that she could either fool Walter or win him over in a few seconds. Everything about her Phyllis seems like a cover – but there isn’t much underneath it. Barbara Stanwyck is not afraid to show how empty Phyllis Dietrichson really is. Phyllis isn’t a woman that is trying to hide the deeper truth inside her because there is not much depth or truth inside of her. Barbara Stanwyck lets Phyllis become much more authentic whenever she is acting according to her own instincts, free from danger, judgment or even view – her facial work during the scene in which she is hiding behind a door is an outstanding sight that perfectly mirrors the tension of the scene while somehow also showing how much Phyllis is enjoying this moment, the thrill of the danger and the intimacy of the crime that bound her together with Walter.
As already mentioned, the screenplay offers the biggest obstacle for Barbara Stanwyck – not only is the character of Phyllis strangely underdeveloped and presented as a woman that only exists to hate her husband but Double Indemnity also puts her into various situations that could easily destroy almost any performance. A lot of times movies want to make the audience believe that two people could fall in love at first sight – by now, this cliché has been presented so many times in so many different movies that it somehow became believable. But Double Indemnity asks of Barbara Stanwyck not only to make Fred MacMacMurray’s Walter fall in love with her but becomes obsessed with her and accept her proposal to kill her husband – all pretty much during the first scenes of the movie. No actress should be able to make such a plot believable – but if the story lacks credibility here, Barbara Stanwyck does not. She does not try to make the premise of the plot believable at this point but instead focuses on the interconnection between herself and Fred MacMurray. And again, both actors are able to completely merge in the atmosphere of their movie and that way create a credibility in their story that a lot of actors would have failed to do. Barbara Stanwyck’s Phyllis is not sexy in the traditional meaning of the word – the horrible wig, the strangely cut cloths, her hardened face that never appears truly soft all create a woman that is almost rid of any true admirable features but Barbara Stanwyck managed to find a level of mature eroticism in Phyllis that allowed her to make everything about her plausible. She doesn't need to be sexy because she is actually much mure. She and Fred MacMurray basically turned the first half of Double Indemnity in one long sexual act – from their foreplay to their first intimacies to the growing heat and tension of the plot. And if their plan develops like an sexual intercourse, then Barbara Stanwyck’s face during the scene in the car tells very clearly when Phyllis reaches her climax. That little smile, that satisfied look in her eyes, that complete pleasure, projected with so much subtlety, is an unforgettable moment. During the whole movie, Barbara Stanwyck knows how to use her face most effectively to display desire, sneer, hate and lust. With this, she always underlines the tension of Double Indemnity perfectly.
It’s easy to see why this performance became a role model for all femme fatales to follow while never having been copied – Barbara Stanwyck added the needed mysteriousness and eroticism to the role but she was not afraid to show a more vulgar and common side in her character which helped her to achieve a much more realistic and three-dimensional performance. She lies to the audience about Phyllis while telling them the truth at the same time. A very engaging, dangerous and spellbinding performance that receives
10/13/2011
Best Actress 1944: Ingrid Bergman in "Gaslight"
Even though Ingrid Bergman did not win an Oscar for her work during 1945, this year was always considered the peak of her Hollywood career. Her work in The Bells of St. Mary’s, Spellbound and Saratoga Trunk only further cemented her reputation as Hollywood’s biggest and most celebrated star. But in some ways, 1944 was the essential Ingrid-Bergman-year. After her roles as Lisa in the Best-Picture-winner Casablanca and as Maria in the movie version of Ernest Hemmingway’s For Whom the Bell tolls failed to win her the golden statuette in 1943, she probably would have won for any kind of role in 1944 as Academy members must have been dying to honour her for her talent, her charming personality and her status as one of Hollywood’s most shining stars. But in 1944, Ingrid Bergman did not just offer any kind of role to the Oscar voters but probably one of the showiest in movie history as a woman who is haunted by the dark memories of her aunt’s murder and then slowly starting to lose her mind after she moved into her aunt’s old home. Very seldom must an Oscar win have been such a done deal as in this case – the combination of Ingrid Bergman’s popularity and the nature of her role made her an easy Oscar winner and it’s hard to imagine that past champions Claudette Colbert, Bette Davis and Greer Garson or the Oscar-less Barbara Stanwyck had a true chance for the win.
Gaslight is a movie that wants to be a lot – a psychological thriller, a crime story, a love story, a character study, a domestic drama, sometimes even a comedy. Such a mix of many different genres could usually leave actors rather helpless about what they are actually supposed to do with their character, especially if the movie itself doesn’t know how to handle its different genres. But thankfully Gaslight is a masterful and perfectly realized piece of work, a movie that develops like a slow nightmare, becoming more and more surreal and threatening as the story movies along. A lot of this is owed to George Cukor’s direction and the dark and gloomy atmosphere with which Number 9, Thornton Square, has been created but most of all, Gaslight is a character-driven story in which the tone and the mood of the story almost completely depend on the performances by the two central actors. And among these two central actors, it is Ingrid Bergman who really lifts Gaslight to such a high level of excellence, developing a co-dependence in which she constantly benefits from the strong material she is given while creating a feeling of desperation, helplessness and lost innocence that haunts and improves the entire movie from start to finish. In her performance, she does not only serve the tension of Gaslight but also develops something beneath the suspense, a believable character, a true and honest creation that fits into the aura of the movie but beyond that also exists as an independent foundation for a less suspenseful and more authentic and human focus. In other words, her character is not only a flat device in service of the movie’s aims but became a full circle, complete from all angles. Ingrid Bergman created Paula Alquist as a woman who is much more than a scared, fearful and obedient creature – thanks to her strong screen presence, her performance became very dominant despite the nature of the role and that way she turned the fight of Paul Alquist, her fight against her own mind, into a much more intriguing, shocking and memorable odyssey than other actresses might have. The 1940 version of Gaslight showed that the role of Paula may be extremely showy but this does not mean that a performance automatically turns into something special – Diana Wynyard’s mousy, hectic, lost and often weak performance feels too calculated, too pale and too uninterested, even for a character who is basically all these things. Ingrid Bergman on the other hand filled her performance with a vast amount of energy, even in Paula’s weakest moments, and always kept a tight grip on her and her intentions – it may be a calculated performance in some parts but Ingrid Bergman’s acting style always feels so spontaneous, so ‘in-the-moment’ and so unaffected that she is never in danger of appearing like the puppet master who is pulling Paula’s strings, leaving this role to Charles Boyer as her husband.
The role of Paula demands of Ingrid Bergman to give a performance that is both very emotional but also very technical. And she manages not only to succeed in both parts but also combine them. Her wide eyes, her fearful whisper, the panic slowly creeping into her eyes when she begins to hear footsteps above her head are all done masterfully but these technical aspects never turn her performance into a masque because she always makes Paula’s emotions perfectly clear – not only her fear, but also her doubt, her search for explanation and ultimately her growing suspicion. With small steps, Ingrid Bergman shows how Paula slowly changes from fearing the past to fearing an unknown present and finally to fearing a very well-known person. When Joseph Cotton’s character tells her that she knows very well who is making the noise above her, Ingrid Bergman doesn’t let Paula react with fierce disbelief but rather a helpless denial, a last try to hide the truth she already knows because just as much as she fears her own decline she also fears the consequences of the truth since it would smash her life into pieces and shows that everything she used to believe was only a lie. In this way, Ingrid Bergman does not forget that Gaslight is not only the story of a woman who believes that she is going insane but also the story of a false marriage, of misused trust and betrayal. In all these aspects, Ingrid Bergman has a wonderful screen partner in Charles Boyer with whom she also shares just the right chemistry – what starts as love soon becomes a child-like dependence, mistrust, suspicion, fear and even hate. Of course, Charles Boyer’s performance never makes it a secret what is going on in Number 9, Thornton Place, which was a very wise decision not only by him but also by the screenplay since it gives the story a psychologically much more interesting angle - Gaslight never asks ‘Who?’ but instead focuses on Paula’s personal battle for survival and the loss of love she is experiencing.
Right from the start, Ingrid Bergman’s performance creates the suspension of Gaslight – even though her acting style never feels calculated, she still has a lot of control over her character. And she uses this to demonstrate how Paula is constantly suffering from the memories of her aunt’s murder and how these memories slowly begin to torture her. During the first half of the movie, Ingrid Bergman beautifully demonstrates how Paul is trying to find a different life even though she is unable to forget the past, still sensing that her past is not finished with her. Later, Ingrid Bergman shows a certain change in Paula, she seems to become more relaxed as happiness and love begin to fill her life. And then, step by step, she again changes her – first, she develops a certain nervousness, a shyness that prevents her from leaving the house she both fears and loves as it offers her security but is haunting her at the same time. Paula is caught in a vicious circle in which she is constantly being told that she is losing her mind until she believes it, too. It could be very easy to dismiss Paula as a character simply because she comes from a time when a woman could be such an easy and almost willing victim for a man simply because she believes his words more than her own thoughts – but Ingrid Bergman’s performance makes it almost impossible not to be absorbed by Paula’s fate.
Ingrid Bergman also made the admirable choice not to let Paula appear like a deer caught in a trap to win the audience’s sympathy. She lets Paula’s fears and terrors always be very private since they happen so secluded in the privateness of her own home. She also never lets Paula appear weak by nature – she actually shows that there is a lot of strength in her but she is being mentally attacked exactly at her one single weakness, her fear of her house and the memories she has of it. Because of this, her final confrontation scene is easily the highpoint in her whole performance simply because it sums up everything about Paula so perfectly. The combination of Ingrid Bergman’s technical strength with her emotional clarity creates a fascinating finale to this exhausting journey.
In this performance, Ingrid Bergman did a lot more than rely of the effects of her technical brilliance. She gave a reason to Paula’s actions and fears, makes it understandable why she fears her maid and even begins to doubt herself. Nothing that Paula apparently does makes any sense and so it’s only logical to see her struggling with her illogical actions. Ingrid Bergman underlines this with a lot of acting choices that might be expected but are still thrilling to watch – her break-down at the piano party, her inability to read a book as she keeps hearing the voice of her husband in her head, her quiet walk, her half-closed eyes, her own voice that turns more and more into a whisper as she herself turns into a mere shadow of herself – it’s all done with marvellous determination that is equally shocking, entertaining, fascinating and worrying. She runs a vast scale of emotions, often in just a few seconds – she can change between begging her husband like a child not leave her only to explode with fear just a few moments later, she can laugh and dance like a little girl only to be terrorized by the thought of having taken down a picture from the wall the next moment. Ingrid Bergman took a very passive part and turned it into the motor of the story – nothing that Paula does seems to be by her own will but she is still the most deciding character in the movie thanks to Ingrid Bergman’s ability to give a fervid characterization of such an introvert woman.
Overall, Ingrid Bergman found a wonderful way to use an acting style that is both modern and ‘old Hollywood’ to give a performance that remains constantly impressive because of both the technical outside and the emotional, three-dimensional inside. She turns Gaslight into a dark and suspenseful ride, fulfilling the tasks of the story while adding her own personality and screen presence to craft a powerful and lasting presence. For this she receives
Gaslight is a movie that wants to be a lot – a psychological thriller, a crime story, a love story, a character study, a domestic drama, sometimes even a comedy. Such a mix of many different genres could usually leave actors rather helpless about what they are actually supposed to do with their character, especially if the movie itself doesn’t know how to handle its different genres. But thankfully Gaslight is a masterful and perfectly realized piece of work, a movie that develops like a slow nightmare, becoming more and more surreal and threatening as the story movies along. A lot of this is owed to George Cukor’s direction and the dark and gloomy atmosphere with which Number 9, Thornton Square, has been created but most of all, Gaslight is a character-driven story in which the tone and the mood of the story almost completely depend on the performances by the two central actors. And among these two central actors, it is Ingrid Bergman who really lifts Gaslight to such a high level of excellence, developing a co-dependence in which she constantly benefits from the strong material she is given while creating a feeling of desperation, helplessness and lost innocence that haunts and improves the entire movie from start to finish. In her performance, she does not only serve the tension of Gaslight but also develops something beneath the suspense, a believable character, a true and honest creation that fits into the aura of the movie but beyond that also exists as an independent foundation for a less suspenseful and more authentic and human focus. In other words, her character is not only a flat device in service of the movie’s aims but became a full circle, complete from all angles. Ingrid Bergman created Paula Alquist as a woman who is much more than a scared, fearful and obedient creature – thanks to her strong screen presence, her performance became very dominant despite the nature of the role and that way she turned the fight of Paul Alquist, her fight against her own mind, into a much more intriguing, shocking and memorable odyssey than other actresses might have. The 1940 version of Gaslight showed that the role of Paula may be extremely showy but this does not mean that a performance automatically turns into something special – Diana Wynyard’s mousy, hectic, lost and often weak performance feels too calculated, too pale and too uninterested, even for a character who is basically all these things. Ingrid Bergman on the other hand filled her performance with a vast amount of energy, even in Paula’s weakest moments, and always kept a tight grip on her and her intentions – it may be a calculated performance in some parts but Ingrid Bergman’s acting style always feels so spontaneous, so ‘in-the-moment’ and so unaffected that she is never in danger of appearing like the puppet master who is pulling Paula’s strings, leaving this role to Charles Boyer as her husband.
The role of Paula demands of Ingrid Bergman to give a performance that is both very emotional but also very technical. And she manages not only to succeed in both parts but also combine them. Her wide eyes, her fearful whisper, the panic slowly creeping into her eyes when she begins to hear footsteps above her head are all done masterfully but these technical aspects never turn her performance into a masque because she always makes Paula’s emotions perfectly clear – not only her fear, but also her doubt, her search for explanation and ultimately her growing suspicion. With small steps, Ingrid Bergman shows how Paula slowly changes from fearing the past to fearing an unknown present and finally to fearing a very well-known person. When Joseph Cotton’s character tells her that she knows very well who is making the noise above her, Ingrid Bergman doesn’t let Paula react with fierce disbelief but rather a helpless denial, a last try to hide the truth she already knows because just as much as she fears her own decline she also fears the consequences of the truth since it would smash her life into pieces and shows that everything she used to believe was only a lie. In this way, Ingrid Bergman does not forget that Gaslight is not only the story of a woman who believes that she is going insane but also the story of a false marriage, of misused trust and betrayal. In all these aspects, Ingrid Bergman has a wonderful screen partner in Charles Boyer with whom she also shares just the right chemistry – what starts as love soon becomes a child-like dependence, mistrust, suspicion, fear and even hate. Of course, Charles Boyer’s performance never makes it a secret what is going on in Number 9, Thornton Place, which was a very wise decision not only by him but also by the screenplay since it gives the story a psychologically much more interesting angle - Gaslight never asks ‘Who?’ but instead focuses on Paula’s personal battle for survival and the loss of love she is experiencing. Right from the start, Ingrid Bergman’s performance creates the suspension of Gaslight – even though her acting style never feels calculated, she still has a lot of control over her character. And she uses this to demonstrate how Paula is constantly suffering from the memories of her aunt’s murder and how these memories slowly begin to torture her. During the first half of the movie, Ingrid Bergman beautifully demonstrates how Paul is trying to find a different life even though she is unable to forget the past, still sensing that her past is not finished with her. Later, Ingrid Bergman shows a certain change in Paula, she seems to become more relaxed as happiness and love begin to fill her life. And then, step by step, she again changes her – first, she develops a certain nervousness, a shyness that prevents her from leaving the house she both fears and loves as it offers her security but is haunting her at the same time. Paula is caught in a vicious circle in which she is constantly being told that she is losing her mind until she believes it, too. It could be very easy to dismiss Paula as a character simply because she comes from a time when a woman could be such an easy and almost willing victim for a man simply because she believes his words more than her own thoughts – but Ingrid Bergman’s performance makes it almost impossible not to be absorbed by Paula’s fate.
Ingrid Bergman also made the admirable choice not to let Paula appear like a deer caught in a trap to win the audience’s sympathy. She lets Paula’s fears and terrors always be very private since they happen so secluded in the privateness of her own home. She also never lets Paula appear weak by nature – she actually shows that there is a lot of strength in her but she is being mentally attacked exactly at her one single weakness, her fear of her house and the memories she has of it. Because of this, her final confrontation scene is easily the highpoint in her whole performance simply because it sums up everything about Paula so perfectly. The combination of Ingrid Bergman’s technical strength with her emotional clarity creates a fascinating finale to this exhausting journey.
In this performance, Ingrid Bergman did a lot more than rely of the effects of her technical brilliance. She gave a reason to Paula’s actions and fears, makes it understandable why she fears her maid and even begins to doubt herself. Nothing that Paula apparently does makes any sense and so it’s only logical to see her struggling with her illogical actions. Ingrid Bergman underlines this with a lot of acting choices that might be expected but are still thrilling to watch – her break-down at the piano party, her inability to read a book as she keeps hearing the voice of her husband in her head, her quiet walk, her half-closed eyes, her own voice that turns more and more into a whisper as she herself turns into a mere shadow of herself – it’s all done with marvellous determination that is equally shocking, entertaining, fascinating and worrying. She runs a vast scale of emotions, often in just a few seconds – she can change between begging her husband like a child not leave her only to explode with fear just a few moments later, she can laugh and dance like a little girl only to be terrorized by the thought of having taken down a picture from the wall the next moment. Ingrid Bergman took a very passive part and turned it into the motor of the story – nothing that Paula does seems to be by her own will but she is still the most deciding character in the movie thanks to Ingrid Bergman’s ability to give a fervid characterization of such an introvert woman.
Overall, Ingrid Bergman found a wonderful way to use an acting style that is both modern and ‘old Hollywood’ to give a performance that remains constantly impressive because of both the technical outside and the emotional, three-dimensional inside. She turns Gaslight into a dark and suspenseful ride, fulfilling the tasks of the story while adding her own personality and screen presence to craft a powerful and lasting presence. For this she receives
10/01/2011
Best Actress 1944
The next year will be 1944 and the nominees were
Ingrid Bergman in Gaslight
Claudette Colbert in Since you went Away
Bette Davis in Mr. Skeffington
Greer Garson in Mrs. Parkington
Barbara Stanwyck in Double Indemnity
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