Best Actress 1949: Deborah Kerr in "Edward, my Son"

What qualifies an actor or an actress to become one of Oscar’s biggest losers? It certainly can’t be a lack of talent – after all, a lot of nominations are necessary to be among the biggest losers and nominations need to be earned just as much as the actual win. For the same reason it also cannot be described as a case of lack of admiration by Academy members. The most obvious reason is clearly the simple fact that Academy members never considered any of the nominated performances in an actor’s career as the best of the year – this is basically also the reason for any Oscar loss but there need to be some other factors that can explain why an actor or an actress was able to collect and impressive number of nominations but simply was never able to turn one of them into a win. Besides the feeling that none of the nominated performances were ever the best of the year it must have been a case of wrong timing plus a lack of sentiment and attention at the crucial time – some actors can be seen as overdue when they receive their second nomination, others can be a five-time loser and still don’t become a factor in the race. Of course, the status ‘overdue’ should not be the main token when Academy members fill out their ballots but the truth is that more than one Oscar winner benefitted from a surge of ‘isn’t it time?’ feeling among Oscar voters, irrespective of the quality of their performances which might either have been strong enough to actually merit an Oscar by themselves and received only additional support by this sentimentality or which would most likely not have taken home the award without it. But how does this sentiment arise in some cases and fail to emerge in others? Surely the impact that the actor made during those previous losses plays an important part in this – how close was this person ever to winning and how satisfied are Academy members with the actual choices they made those years? Were the previous losses a surprise or had they been expected? And even if the sentiment for an overdue award is strong, the nominated performance still needs to provide some kind of artistic or popular appeal to convince Academy members to give their vote to an actor or actress whom they might have ignored otherwise. Obviously, all of this is pure speculation but it provides an interesting look at the fate of Deborah Kerr, with six losses over a time span of 11 years between 1949 and 1960 the biggest loser in the Best Actress category before she finally received her blessing from the Academy with an Honorary Award in 1993. Why was she never able to turn one of her nominations into an actual win? Again, the most obvious answer appears to be that Academy members simply never considered her performances the best of the year but why was there never a surge of sympathy or support that maybe could have turned her into an Oscar winner when so many other performers were able to finally triumph after a couple of unsuccessful nominations? Overall, her misfortune during those 11 years can most likely be explained as a combination of all different circumstances – the constant presence of an overwhelming frontrunner or at least strong co-favorite made her losses always expected and therefore less noticeable during all those years, sentimental reasons that might have existed were constantly overshadowed by even more sentimental reasons for the actual winner and her performances maybe qualified as ideal nominees but lacked the overall impact that most other Oscar winners during those years provided. But why was this? Unlike many other performers, Deborah Kerr was able to secure a nomination for the most iconic role of her career – the adulterous wife who makes love to Burt Lancaster on the beach in From Here to Eternity. Considering the popularity of From Here to Eternity, which was the first movie to tie the overall Oscar record of Gone with the Wind, and her change of image from a constant display of lady-like dignity to a bitter and unfaithful retaliator, Deborah Kerr could have been a strong contender for the Oscar trophy but the appearance of Audrey Hepburn on the international movie scene with her praised and award-winning first major film performance as a lugubrious princess in Roman Holiday made a win for her out of the question rather quickly. Besides this, Deborah Kerr's part in From Here to Eternity lacked the screentime and importance of other leading ladies during that year and contributed no more to the overall tone of the movie than Donna Reed’s Oscar-winning supporting role which most likely also prevented an Oscar win for her in 1953. Three years later Deborah Kerr won her next Oscar nomination for her performance in the musical The King and I which was a popular blockbuster with audiences and critics alike and had already brought a Tony Award to Getrude Lawrence for her work in the same role on the Broadway stage. The King and I was also popular enough to gain an Oscar for leading man Yul Brynner but co-star Deborah Kerr again faced a definite frontrunner as Ingrid Bergman’s performance in Anastasia had not only been hailed and awarded by critics but also marked her official return to Hollywood after her ‘exile’ in Italy which was caused by her extramartial affair with director Roberto Rossellini. Of course, it’s impossible to say how the race would have turned out without Ingrid Bergman in the running but it’s easy to imagine that Deborah Ker might have had a legitimate chance for the Oscar since the performances and movies of Nancy Kelly or Carroll Baker had most likely been too controversial for most Academy members and surely no one was eager to give Katharine Hepburn a second Oscar for her third nominated lonely spinster in The Rainmaker. The following year provided another good chance for Deborah Kerr to win an Oscar for her work as a stranded nun in Heaven knows, Mr. Allison – it was her fourth nomination, she had previously received the New York Film Critics Awards and she must have slowly been starting to appear as an ‘Oscar waiting to happen’. But Deborah Kerr always faced either a seasoned veteran or a promising newcomer who gave the kind of performance that the Academy loves to honor – and in 1957, newcomer Joanne Woodward played the part of a woman who was haunted by three different personalities which was surely an almost engraved invitation to an Academy Award and had therefore turned her into a likely winner on Oscar night. The following year, Deborah Kerr received not only her fifth nomination overall but also her third in a row – two facts that would usually put a lot of attention on her and her work but the circumstances of the race were again against her. Just like in From Here to Eternity, Deborah Kerr was again nominated for a role that could be described as supporting and again lacked the necessary impact to benefit from any sentiment that might have been on her side. But more than that, 1958 also saw the fifth nomination of Susan Hayward who had never made any secret out of her desire for an Oscar and, after several losses for playing drunk, drunk and singing or wholesome and singing women finally took the last step and dared Academy members to deny her the award for portraying a woman walking innocently into the gas chamber in I want to live! But Susan Hayward’s performance not only overshadowed the work of Deborah Kerr like Joanne Woodward did the year before – her previous losses had also been much more noteworthy and she was most likely a close second in 1955 and the only alternative to Shirley Booth in 1952, making her win in 1958 an almost sure thing even with other overdue contenders like Deborah Kerr and Rosalind Russell in the race. And when Deborah Kerr received her sixth and final nomination, it was the beginning of a new decade, the consolidation of new talent and a change of style which makes it’s debatable how much Academy members were actually still paying attention to her career – maybe her sixth nomination could have created a sense of sentiment and considering that her performance had won Deborah Kerr a record-breaking third award from the New York Film Critics, a vote for her work would not have been a purely sentimental choice but her losses and nominations had been so quiet over the years that it’s unlikely that she could have turned into a serious threat for the win now, especially since the ceremony in 1961 was completely overshadowed by the longing of the Academy to bestow the honor on Elizabeth Taylor whose tragic illness turned her critically panned work in BUtterfield 8 into a sure victory on Oscar night. After this last nomination, Deborah Kerr continued to deliver noteworthy performances but the Academy had moved on – Deborah Kerr had just not been its true love but rather a good friend with whom it had spent a couple of years but dropped after a while when its taste and interest shifted. So basically, Deborah Kerr combined all the factors that were needed to turn herself into the biggest loser in the Best Actress category – her losses were never surprising nor considered undeserved in their days which also led to little attention to her overdue status and her performances simply did not offer enough impact to convince Academy members to bypass the strong frontrunners or obvious choices she was competing against. At the end all the favorites took home the gold, the missions were accomplished and casualties are to be expected. Promising newcomers and seasoned veterans won the awards over Deborah Kerr and she somehow never managed to be either of them. But her maybe biggest misfortune at the Oscars was most likely the fact that she might have had the best chance to win during her career in 1947 – her work in Black Narcissus was honored by the New York Film Critics and it was also generally considered one of the weaker years for Best Actress which might have allowed her an actual win but the Academy did not nominate this particular performance but waited another two years before they recognized her for the first time for her role as the suffering wife of Spencer Tracy in the movie version of the stage play Edward, my Son. This first nomination has not been mentioned yet in the look at Deborah Kerr’s Oscar nominations and again it’s easy to state that there has been little chance for her to win the award as Olivia de Havilland was the overwhelming frontrunner due to her universally acclaimed transformation from a shy, introvert girl into a remorseless spinster in the Best Picture nominee The Heiress. Of course, this look at Deborah Kerr’s Oscar chances over the years is based on the trends of the time, what is known about the respective races and how her performances were perceived during their time and not any kind of indication of the quality of her actual work, if her losses were underserved or justified and it also doesn’t mean that she would have easily won without the actual winners in the competition – but this review of the nominated performance that started her relationship with the Academy seems like an ideal opportunity to speculate why she never benefitted from a surge of sympathy during her career like so many other performers did and how close she actually ever was to win the coveted award. But an actual analysis of her efforts needs more careful consideration and it is also not meant as a mere comparison of different performances but an appreciation of her work judged by itself. So the question is not if Deborah Kerr’s performance in Edward, my Son was actually more deserving than that of winner Olivia de Havilland but rather how strong it was, irrespective of her competition or any other circumstances.

Most of the talk on the Best Actress lineup of 1949 seems to focus on the aforementioned transformation of Olivia de Havilland’s character in The Heiress – but the year actually saw two equally drastic changes in the category that were equally caused by bitterness, desperation and regret but shaped more strongly by the influence of alcohol which turned Susan Hayward’s Eloise from lovelorn college girl into a bitter and regretful drunk in My Foolish Heart and Deborah Kerr’s Evelyn from a supportive wife to a desperate and lonely shell of her former self in Edward, my Son. In the case of Deborah Kerr, it’s a change that doesn’t come over a short period of time but actually slowly develops over the course of many years, from the birth of her beloved son Edward to his ultimate death as a young man at the beginning of World War II. It’s a character arc that can be viewed in clear, distinctive steps during Edward, my Son – the character of Evelyn is not of secondary importance in the story but she is still a secondary role compared to Spencer Tracy’s Arnold who drives the story forward with his desire to spoil his son and giving him everything humanly possible with means that are both legal and illegal and ruins more than one life during the run of the story. His wife Evelyn appears in various, almost closed chapters that constantly display a different side to the character and show her way to a destruction that is both self-inflicted and caused by her husband in precise steps. The part could be considered supporting but unlike From Here to Eternity and Separate Tables, the two other movies that won Deborah Kerr leading nominations for comparatively small roles, Edward, my Son does not feature another prominent female character and the struggle between Evelyn and her husband is the main emotional center of the movie, even if Evelyn constantly drops out of the story which focuses more strongly on the character of Arnold anyway. Interestingly enough, the most important character in Edward, my Son remains an invisible influence – like Sebastian in Suddenly, Last Summer, Edward is the constant reference point of the story, the constant subject of conversation, the reason for the action of all other characters and the only thought in the life of his mother and father but also like Sebastian, he always remains unseen and unheard, only existing through the reflections of his parents, friends and acquaintances. Their thoughts and ideas on Edward differ drastically and while Arnold worships his son and is willing to do everything to get him ahead, his mother cannot overlook the faults of his characters even if they are mostly caused by the actions of her husband – the money, influence and actions of his father have apparently gone to his head and turned him into a spoiled and careless young man who treats other people with the same lack of respect as his father does. It is ultimately the combination of these two men that will cause the downfall of Evelyn – her inability to shape her son according to her own ideas and teach him the meanings of such values as respect, self-responsibility or humility and the hate of her husband who is even willing to destroy his own wife as long as he can keep his influence over his son lead to her decline and downward spiral of despair, surrender and alcohol. It’s a surely drastic and unlikely character arc and the lack of screentime could easily have resulted in an exaggerated development but the role benefits from a clear presentation at each state of this arc, making the different steps in the life of Evelyn both believable and memorable. Still, a character like Evelyn Boult seems to be strangely unprobable for an actress like Deborah Kerr – even in her most unusual parts she always possessed a rare charisma of poise and elegance and while Evelyn was allowed to display those qualities in some parts of the story, the role mostly asked Deborah Kerr to be exactly the opposite of those features and appear completely ordinary in the beginning and broken-down and washed-up in the end. Most of all, the role of Evelyn stands as a symbol for all the damage that her husband is causing – like a vessel that has to accept and absorb all the pain he is inflicting on others and herself, Evelyn Boult stands as the constant reflection of her husband’s actions. She doesn’t benefit from his way to the financial top and has clearly never been more happy in her life than when she and Arnold were an ordinary couple without a large amount of money but still happy around each other and adoring their little baby boy without knowing yet how he would turn out as a young man – she is the living reflection of her husband’s amorality, being destroyed more and more as he sinks lower and lower on the scale of moral behavior even if his actions are not always directed against herself. But Evelyn accepts her burdens and maybe creates even new ones for herself – the story and her husband leave the opportunity to accept her life as it is and make the best out of it but Evelyn’s arc leads right into a mere existence of pity and self-pity, wondering where everything went wrong while doing nothing to try to set it right. All this makes the role of Evelyn Boult both exhausting and exciting because the rise from housewife to trophy wife and subsequent decline to bitter drunk while also presenting the movie’s sole conscience is thrilling and impressive but the passive nature of the part and the little influence it presents in the story also make it difficult for an actress to not let the tragedy completely overshadow her own intentions. Deborah Kerr’s own interpretation of the role made it possible for Evelyn Boult to fulfill all the tasks of the story and she successfully adds the emotional intensity to both her role and the picture to become a contrasting mirror for her husband’s actions but she could not avoid all the traps of the role, especially in the final parts of the movie which show that she was not always comfortable outside of her usual acting style.

If the appearances of Deborah Kerr in Edward, my Son are single chapters, then the first one would likely be titled ‘happy housewife’ – but maybe the word ‘happy’ is already too strong because even if Deborah Kerr is showing her character at her most carefree and relaxed, she still already showed hints of her inability to fully grasp all of her husband’s ideas and intentions and is not able or willing to understand all of his plans for their future life and his business. But even more noticeable in those moments is how much Deborah Kerr is unlike her usual screen-personality, letting the normality of the character shine with little but still intriguing acting choices like silently quieting her husband down so that he won’t wake up their baby boy or quickly cleaning up the room before a visitor comes to their son’s birthday party. She also portrays Evelyn as a woman who is more than content with the life she is leading, telling her husband how happy she is with the way things are for them right now but she again injects this moment with a certain worry as if Evelyn is trying to prevent her husband from doing anything that might damage their life, apparently already sensing his determination to get ahead for the sake of his son and consequently ruining those around him. But even with those frail hints at the movie’s later scenes, Deborah Kerr also uses this first scene to display the passiveness of her role and shows how Evelyn is constantly willing to accept her husband’s plans and behaviors as long as it benefits their son and how she is already completely focusing her life on her child, letting Evelyn react with a mixture of delight and implicitness to her husband’s announcement that their new baby carriage was the best in the store. The next appearence of Evelyn might be titled ‘suffering mother’ as she and her husband learn of their child’s threatening condition but the scene itself does not allow Deborah Kerr more than a display of tears and worries and she also tends to be slightly overdramatic in those moments, emphasizing the sorrow of her character too strongly without finding the right balance to her more quite and dignified screen personality. Her maybe strongest impression comes in her next two chapters which could be called ‘trophy wife’ and ‘rebellious wife’. After her husband has managed to turn himself into a rich, influential but morally more and more dubious character, Evelyn constantly rejects his decision for Edward and the life he is giving him while taking that exact lifestyle also for granted. She cannot stop herself from quietly mocking and blaming Arnold for organizing an extravagant skiing trip for Edward but accepts those opportunities and possibilities for herself apparently without thinking about it. Nevertheless, Deborah Kerr adds another intriguing layer to this character by hinting at the fact that Evelyn is very much aware of her own status and of her dependence from her husband but also the benefits she gets to enjoy – but she fears that her son might turn out to be just like her and Deborah Kerr movingly shows a woman who has apparently given up hope for herself but still thinks that her child can be different and find a way of life that she could not. When she asks an old friend to talk to Arnold about Edward and tell him that one can kill somebody else by not treating that person as a human being, there is little doubt that she is talking on her own behalf just as much as on that of her son – but that scene also stands as a symbol for the major problem that draws through her performance, namely that of a melodramatic tendency that lets her acting style appear too stylized and exaggerated in certain moments. But it’s also a testament to the strength of Deborah Kerr’s screen presence that even if those moments always become clearly obvious she still avoids to ruin the effect of her performance by crafting the tone of that moment in perfect harmony with the tone of her own intentions – she might be exaggerating her emotions or staring too strongly into the open space in certain moments but she still always adds the necessary amount of gravitas and pathos to her scenes without either letting any opportunities pass by or overdoing them. Even if her acting style might somehow be too melodramatic, the melodrama itself always finds the right balance, becoming a part of the story instead of interrupting it. Her whole appearance in this scene is an effective and intriguing display of a woman who beings to doubt everything she has achieved in life so far but is not able yet to try to direct her will in a different direction. But Deborah Kerr laid another foundation in this scene for her next chapter ‘rebellious wife’ in which the marriage between Arnold and Evelyn has turned into open despise and she openly questions the character of her son, fearing that the influence of her husband will destroy his morals completely. The whole scene is dominated by the theme ‘will she or won’t she?’ which Deborah Kerr handles with both plausibility and ambiguity. Even despite the fact that her Evelyn clearly enjoys the privileges that come from her husband’s wealth, making trips around the world with her son and having no worries except how this son is being raised, her plan to abandon Arnold and his money together with Edward to teach him the importance of earning money himself and living a life away from prosperity and bravado feels plausible and believable and in this constant struggle between husband and wife both actors make it very easy to let the audience sympathize with Evelyn and her intentions. Deborah Kerr’s delivery of the line that Arnold’s carelessness about the wrong-doings of their son is the most terrible aspect of this whole situation summarizes the whole relationship with her husband and her son and shows that she hasn’t given up her hopes yet completely. But on the other hand, Deborah Kerr doesn’t let Evelyn talk about her plans with too strong emphasize and she gives up those same plans almost too quickly again after her husband defies and openly threats her – obviously the structure of the movie doesn’t leave a lot of room for Evelyn’s character to develop and therefore often has no other choices but reduce her to a passive and accepting victim to get the story and its message across but Deborah Kerr’s acting makes those shortcomings plausible by doubting if Evelyn would really ever possess the strength to turn her plans into reality or if she actually hadn’t expected that her plans would not succeed in the first place. But she also avoids letting Evelyn appear too weak in those moments – instead, her performance always works as the aforementioned reflection of her husband’s emotional cruelty and she effectively and touchingly shows a woman whose entire life and existence is turned to ruins by the actions of her husband and own inability to reject those actions. In the end, her final chapters ‘drunken wife’ summarize this whole destruction when Evelyn has turned into a bitter and delusional drunkard, finding no other solution to cope with her daily life anymore. In those moments, Deborah Kerr clearly suffers from two things – the fact that her make-up and costumes too much exaggerate her appearance but also her own acting which turns Evelyn too often from character to caricature, portraying the intoxication with a stumbling speech and shaky body movements that again could easily distract from the situation. But in those final scenes Deborah Kerr again fulfills the task of being the movie’s conscience, showing a woman standing in front of the ruins of her own existence, desperately shouting that she doesn’t know why it all went wrong and not able to find any use anymore of the company of her old friend Larry with whom she might have had the happy marriage that she couldn’t find with Arnold. Her acting does become too overdone too many times in those moments and she clearly plays the sort of drunk she and the movie imagine a drunk would be like but she still knows how much the camera can take and how far she has to go to fulfill the movie’s message and she even adds some unexpected humor when she wants to get out of a social event by pretending to have a headache and Arnold demands of her to go anyway and she slyly thanks him for curing her so fast. And most of all, Deborah Kerr provides the single most haunting moment of the story when Evelyn finally stands up against Arnold, positioning herself opposite him for the first time and telling him that he can pretend all he wants but that he himself, too, has lost every sense of direction – it’s a moment that Deborah Kerr portrays with the spontaneity of a drunk who just gave in to a sudden urge and with an impression of careful preparation, of finally wanting to say what should have been said for far too long.

In the end, it’s an almost confusing performance – Deborah Kerr always improves Edward, my Son whenever she appears but the effect of her performance is always diminished when she leaves the screen for too many scenes and even years. Edward, my Son does not show the process of her transformation but only the results and Deborah Kerr’s acting style feels clearly out of her comfort zone during her final moments. But even with all those problems she still makes the transformation of Evelyn completely believable and she manages to find the story’s most moving and memorable moments in her performance, avoiding to let Evelyn appear too constructed by making her suffering and downfall a plausible consequence of her husband’s actions. And even her final scenes which could have been easily destroyed by her slightly unadjusted acting style still manage to dominate the movie and bring it to a haunting and devastating conclusion that evokes the overwhelming feeling of a wasted life and missed opportunities. A moving, occasionally heartbreaking and intriguing performance that maybe could have achieved more but still came to life with haunting reality.

Best Actress 1949: Loretta Young in "Come to the Stable"

The Best Actress category of 1949 appeared to have all the ingredients to become a perfect copy of the previous race in 1947 – both years featured an overwhelming frontrunner in a praised and award-winning dramatic performance that received accolades from critics and industry insiders and was sure to win the Oscar without any serious threat from the four remaining nominees who both times included rising star Susan Hayward, twice nominated as a woman facing the consequences of her alcoholism as she looks at the ruins of her own life and popular, endearing leading lady Loretta Young who received her two career nominations for light and charming performances in crowd-pleasing dramadies, one time as a housemaid running for congress and later as a nun determined to build a children’s hospital in New England. But the main difference between these two occasions was the fact that in 1950, Oscar favorite Olivia de Havilland did indeed and expectedly win the award over Susan Hayward, Loretta Young, Jeanne Crain and Deborah Kerr for her acclaimed performance as a shy young girl who experiences rejection and betrayal in director William Wyler’s The Heiress, becoming the first overwhelming frontrunner in the Best Actress category to actually win the Oscar in the end – contrary, the year 1948 saw one of the biggest upsets ever in Oscar history when Rosalind Russell’s work as Lavinia in the movie adaptation of Eugene O’Neill’s Mourning Becomes Electra lost the Best Actress Award to Loretta Young for her performance as Katie Holstrom in The Farmer’s Daughter. So, both years had many of the same premises but saw strikingly different results – and a loss for Olivia de Havilland might have been an even bigger upset than the past loss of Rosalind Russell who maybe received strong praise for her performance in Mourning Becomes Electra but the movie itself was met with little critical acclaim and, as legend has it, even made the head of her PR campaign fall asleep during a screening, while The Heiress, despite disappointing box office results, was one of the most acclaimed movies of the year and one of the five contenders for the Best Picture Award. And furthermore Rosalind Russell hadn’t established herself as the same kind of admired and respected thespian like Olivia de Havilland even if she was among the biggest stars in Hollywood and constantly made a smooth transition between drama and comedy, finding success in both genres quite easily – but Olivia de Havilland received an undeniable amount of appreciation from critics and the Academy for her change from admired movie star to respected character actress and her willingness to constantly challenge herself as an artist during the second half of the decade, making an upset win by Susan Hayward, Deborah Kerr or Jean Crain even more unlikely. And just as unlikely must have been another upset win for Loretta Young – after her Oscar for The Farmer’s Daughter, she found herself again nodded for a similarly innocent and reserved role, showing that Academy members clearly responded to this phase and these parts of her career but a second Oscar in three years appeared rather improbable, not only because of Olivia de Havilland’s dominance in the race but also because Come to the Stable is an even less likely ‘Oscar movie’ than the already harmless and very often rather unaspiring The Farmer’s Daughter, even if this story of two nuns who collect money to build a children’s hospital was among the most-nominated movies of 1949, proving that Oscar voters obviously reacted very well to the positive message and sentimentality of the plot which tells how never-ending faith, honest decency and goodness can create little miracles and help those around to find a new and deeper meaning in life. But Katie Holstrom, despite the guileless and simple execution of The Farmer’s Daughter, gave Loretta Young a character that maybe lacked complexity and depth but still remained the sole focus of the picture’s attention, allowing her to charm and beguile audiences and she took full advantage of her frank nature and combined it with a sparkling personality and an amusing accent that enabled her to turn the role into a characteristic ‘star vehicle’ that lived from the mild comedy and an engaging love story, making it easy for audiences to appreciate Loretta Young both as a star and a lightweight comedienne and character actress. In contrast, the role of the dedicated and more serious Sister Margaret in Come to the Stable asked for a much more straightforward approach, both in context of the story but also in Loretta Young’s demands towards her own performance to carry the picture without taking away from the overall storyline – Loretta Young was among the most famous members of the Catholic Church in Hollywood, a devout Christian who liked to set up swear jars on movie sets and apparently more than once annoyed co-star Celeste Holm by telling her to act and behave more like a nun during the filming of Come to the Stable and considering the rare opportunity to find a role that so wholeheartedly embraces personal faith, it is likely to imagine that Loretta Young’s inner beliefs also influenced her work and her approach to the role. But even if Loretta Young did not win another Oscar for her work in Come to the Stable, the project itself and the character of Sister Margaret were most likely much closer to her heart than Katie Holstrom and The Farmer’s Daughter, giving her the chance to realize her religious feelings on the screen and presenting audiences with a warm and touching story that embraced the idea of Christian virtues and its power to change the world for the better. Come to the Stable must therefore have been a true ‘passion project’ for Loretta Young – but one that lived from its simplicity, modesty and her own willingness to play a role that offers no vanity or artistic challenges as the movie never turns into an actor’s showcase since the characters are always of secondary importance to the mawkishness of the plot and its uplifting message. And so Come to the Stable became a passion project without being a star vehicle, asking Loretta Young to reduce her own star presence for the sake of her character’s humility and devotion, letting her carry the significance of goodness and decency without actively asking her to shape a three-dimensional person underneath the habit – it was a task that came certainly easy to Loretta Young and she implemented her part with the right style and tone but Sister Margaret was still a part that put its limitations too visibly and strongly on her performance. But even if the role did not allow Loretta Young a precise characterization, she still found some room to add a spark of personality and individuality, avoiding the risk to become a mere symbol of Christianity and successfully combined her star qualities with the demands of the script, giving a performance that fulfilled the task of existing behind the overall storyline but also realized that its sentimentality and positivity still depended on the cast to be brought to live and be filled with reason and character.

While the tone and style of Come to the Stable may have been created in regards to a serious topic, the movie itself still aimed for a lighter approach, trying to achieve a goal that would be described as ‘heartwarming’ and ‘enchanting’ and balancing an honest earnestness with a facetious overtone – an execution that was not only realized by the screenplay and the direction but especially by the cast which had to craft these different aspects and circumstances into the presented characters and performances, balancing a light playfulness, a slight touch of humor with a visible seriousness and dedication. Considering Loretta Young’s own dedication to the Christian faith, it is not surprising that her Sister Margaret stood for a more serious and thoughtful approach, one that moves the story along and fills it with the necessary solemnity and determination while her co-star Celeste Holm provided the lighter, more humorous moments of the story as her companion Sister Scholastica, a nun who is characterized by the same amount of faith and goodness but lacks the same determination and experience, following Sister Margaret in her quest and often adding unexpected wit with her naivety and frankness. These separate additions that both actresses provided to the story further underlined the contrariness of a movie that did not give its actors any complex or profound material, often asking them to reduce their own presence to the point of becoming a vessel for the story’s own intentions while depending on the commitment of these actors to carry its message nonetheless and work in harmony with its own modesty and simplicity to insert a variety of distinct personalities into the happenings. This already indicates that Loretta Young could not rest on her star appeal in the role of Sister Margaret and that she was also not offered any kind of challenging material that would have asked her to add unexpected layers to a rather flat character but as the story’s main link between its different principles, she nonetheless needed to find the right rhythm and tonality in her performance that would give the picture a grounded sense of reality but would also leave room for a more fairytale-like interpretation, using the simplicity of her role to give a performance that subtly suggested and hinted at something more beneath the surface and to inject her character not only with the message of the screenplay but a life of its own. It’s a task that did not find its solution in a multifaceted portrayal but rather in a straightforward presentation of goodness and gentleness as Loretta Young’s work left little doubt about the honesty of Sister Margaret’s intentions and the seriousness of her ambitions – and while Loretta Young put those limitations in the context of the story, moving the character within the boundaries of the screenplay and giving it the needed sincerity to support Come to the Stable in its aims to both entertain and move the audience with its edifying structure, the overall result was nonetheless a performance with clear limitations and an often distinct superficiality since carrying a picture with a role that only exists in connection with a constant focus on an undying goodness is a task that can easily create a sense of repetition and unimaginativeness. Loretta Young might sometimes have benefitted from the script of Come to the Stable since the struggle of Sister Margaret to raise money for her hospital is its major storyline and presents a constant array of different obstacles and challenges that need her guidance and consideration, giving both Sister Margaret and Loretta Young the chance to find new or maybe even unexpected sides in themselves but Come to the Stable is also a movie that never truly dives into its broader issues and constantly stays on the surface of its own presentation. It therefore never offers obstacles that truly endanger the mission of Sister Margaret or finds her doubting her own abilities but rather only presents contemporary setbacks, always maintaining the sentimentality of the story and never trying to add a darker or more demanding angle to the proceedings as all outcomes and twists are already expected long before they happen and Come to the Stable very often becomes more noteworthy for its parts instead of its whole, letting single moments become more engaging for small incidents within instead for their results as even the task of getting land for the hospital from what appears to be well-known criminal is only a matter of minutes for these two persistent nuns. Come to the Stable obviously never intended to challenge itself or the audience, providing light entertainment instead of deeper social questions or a closer look at the different roles of religion in the life of its various characters – this also signifies that all actors in the picture suffered from the thin writing and the underdeveloped templates they are asked to play but Loretta Young is actually the cast member who faced the most severe problems in this aspect as the presence of her co-star Celeste Holm but also Elsa Lanchaster, as a slightly confused but goodhearted painter of religious pictures, is primarily needed to contribute a charming and comedic touch to Come to the Stable, an exercise they both fulfilled adequately and with the required facileness but this ultimately shows that their performances are mostly defined by being a counterbalance to Loretta Young and their restrained and secondary parts also allowed them to stay more decisively within the frames of the script since they mostly added to the story without having to carry it. Loretta Young, on the other hand, needed to be the more plausible character, the one who drives all events and therefore had to shape Come to the Stable with a balance of sentimentality and realism, focusing more strongly on the serious moments of the script – and all this while actually starring in a movie that is not truly offering such moments since Sister Margaret’s fight for the hospital is always done in the most harmless but also heartwarming way, resulting in moments of quiet desperation that never feel as grand as they would like to be. All this unfortunately leaves Loretta Young with little else to do than present the aforementioned display of goodness and warmth without any shades or any look at the inner personality of Sister Margaret. And this thinness of the central part makes Loretta Young’s performance also one of the most peculiar in the history of the Best Actress category – seldom has a nomination been given for a role that so completely lacks every bit of character, every bit of wider life outside a single mission, every bit of depth and even the smallest kind of development or storyline that is not solely focused on the major plot. It’s a performance that can be praised for being heartwarming and doing nothing wrong and at the same time be criticized for doing nothing at all – and both statements are true. The role of Sister Margaret is indeed almost completely empty – but thankfully Loretta Young’s performance isn’t and like Come to the Stable itself, it is more noteworthy for smaller details than its entirety. Her performance undoubtedly shows how close the overall theme of Come to the Stable had been to her heart and how strongly she connected to the role of Sister Margaret, willing to accept all limitations for the sake of the greater theme – which was certainly a noble choice, further underlining the importance of this passion project for her own beliefs, but consequently also denied her the possibility to give a truly multidimensional piece of work.

As mentioned above, the performance of Loretta Young in Come to the Stable mostly impresses with its attention to detail and her ability to find small suggestions at the inner core of a character that was written without any depth at all. Such small moments show that Loretta Young was always in full control of Sister Margaret and understood that the story’s aim to entertain rested on Celeste Holm’s charm and lightweight acting style while its credibility depended on her own ability to bring a certain level of deeper understanding to her role and let her appear not only optimistic and faithful but also give her a sense of pragmatism and everyday capabilities. She is not only the main force who pushes the story forward but also a woman who is much more aware of the world than initially expected, who naturally takes charge and to whom others often turn for guidance and support. Celeste Holm’s Sister Scholastica might share equal screen time but she is always a companion who goes along without ever stepping into the foreground, who is often mostly defined by her naivety and who lacks the same kind of determination and leadership qualities even if both women might be equal in their faith and their human spirits – but the acting of Celeste Holm and the presentation of her character nonetheless supported Loretta Young in her own work thanks to the creation of an entertaining and charming contrast, showing how both actresses carefully constructed their work in relation to each other. Loretta Young maybe suffered from the fact that her performance, more than all the others in the picture, had nowhere to go but she still fulfilled the task of personalizing the story’s overall theme and motives, using only her rich and distinct voice and her bright face in a characterization that is never deep or truly challenging but serves the movie’s purpose and adds the necessary amount of honesty and sincerity without feeling either too forced or too exaggerated. It's a natural friendliness and honesty that was eagerly embraced by Academy members – 30 years had passed between her film debut and her first Oscar nomination for The Farmer's Daughter, making it seem that Oscar voters did not pay attention to her work in comedies of the sexes, romances or dramas but waited until Loretta Young re-invented her personality and turned herself into a symbol of decent wholesomeness in the later parts of her career. Her Katie Holstrom displayed strong inner beliefs despite a certain naivety while her Sister Margaret is much more worldly-wise, despite the contrary ideas of those around her, but both women always believed in a greater good and the general benevolence and kindness of people that needed to be supported against darker influences. In the case of Sister Margaret, this display faced a much stronger danger of becoming repetitive very soon since the character had significantly less personality than her Katie who was not only following a single goal but still had to find her place in society but Come to the Stable was smart enough to let the two central characters constantly counterbalance each other for the sake of the overall story arc – both Loretta Young and Celeste Holm faced limited characters but the combination of humor and sincerity made it possible to let both parts appear more dimensional than they really are and the chemistry between both actresses helped to underline the friendship and respect that these two Sisters share while letting the different aspects of their work intertwine in effective harmony as the humor of Celeste Holm lets Loretta Young appear less straightforward and limited while the seriousness of Loretta Young gives Celeste Holm's performance more maturity and sincerity than the role itself intended to. It's an effect that both actresses wisely used to their own advantages and that helped to keep the viewer's interest in these two characters alive throughout the story and gave Loretta Young the chance to demonstrate that Sister Margaret’s innocence and sincerity are more often than once just weapons that she uses precisely at the right moment to get what she wants – but Loretta Young is still honest enough in her performance to prevent the character from becoming calculating or slyly in the process and there are little scenes during which she is able to emphasize the character of Sister Margaret a little more than the script actually asked her to. It is certainly easy to overrate Loretta Young's work whenever it finds any chances to suggest the inner character of Sister Margaret because these kinds of small successes appear grander than they really are in the context of a role that only exists to express unlimited optimism and trust in the help of God and Loretta Young was also not able to insert Sister Margaret with a true inner depth or an identity of her own – but what she did was still crafting her as a believable and strangely complete character who maybe only exists for a single purpose but her performance and strong personality made it appear that there could be many untold stories about Sister Margaret even if the picture decided not to tell them this time. When she informs Sister Scholastica that this is not the right time to ask a man for a donation or that they cannot ask for more support from Mr. Rossi, Loretta Young adds a friendly yet decisive guidance to her role and again fulfills the task of giving plausibility to the story of two nuns who are able to get everything they want not just by persistence and faith but also their own kind of wisdom and social competence. Obviously it is rather likely that many other actress would have realized the same kind of small successes in this role, too, but Loretta Young’s strong screen personality, even if it was not permitted to truly shine, still added a special aura and sincerity to Sister Margaret since her personal connection to the part most likely caused an even more precise consideration of the role and its characteristics. And so it is not surprising that her most memorable moment on the screen comes when this honest concern and thoughtfulness is at its most effective display – when Sister Margaret learns that the son of Mr. Rossi used to fight at Normandy, she tells him that he and his wife must be very proud and prepares to leave before she turns around again and asks, with a sensible tone of care, ‘Mr. Rossi, your son did come back, didn’t he?` When his answer turns out to be negative, Loretta Young’s face expresses the right amount of sorrow and condolement and her answer ‘How sad for you and your wife’ is as straightforward as possible, neither trying to give him any comfort when she knows that she can’t and also not trying to add even more pathos to the moment. But while Loretta Young occasionally found a beautiful immediacy in her character, she let various moments that would have allowed a more personal realization quietly gone by, again underlining her determination to carry the sentimentality of the story without adding any complexity but a deeper look at her character would have been possible during certain moments, even within the thin writing, and would have opened her interpretation without throwing the movie off-balance – when Sister Margaret begins to reveal her reasons for her determination to build a hospital and talks about her experiences in Normandy during the war when the hospital in which she worked was close to being destroyed during a military attack, Loretta Young wisely avoided any sentimentality, reminiscing about this time in a way that emphasizes her positive outlook on life as she only wants to remember the positive events she experienced but also does not want to burden Ms. Potts with her personal backstory, further underlining the lack of darker aspects within the story, but with this approach Loretta Young also avoided all possibilities that could have shown how this time shaped and influenced her character, how she truly feels about these memories and what they ultimately mean for her apart from her desire to thank God by coming to America and build a hospital herself. A later scene repeats Loretta Young’s neglect of a more widened look at her own part when Sister Margaret learns from Mr. Mason, a musician next door, that he knows the city in Normandy where Sister Margaret used to work, and she only replies with a bright ‘Oh, how nice’ – Loretta Young may be not to blame for the dialogue in this moment but since the audience knows what this expression means and it also knows that Sister Margaret must understand the deeper meaning of these words, too, she could have used this moment to show more than just kindness but also to communicate her own experience and the connection between herself and Mr. Mason at this deciding moment. So while Loretta Young deserves a certain recognition for letting the kindness and gentleness of Sister Margaret dominate her performance without overbearing it, she also missed the chances to inject more shades into this character – as small as these chances might have been.

Overall, Loretta Young’s performance serves the movie well by never contradicting its intentions and it is also noteworthy that she is not only believable as a women of kindness and decency but also as a nun – scenes of her praying or praising God seem to flow naturally from her body and her spirit and demonstrate the closeness between herself and her character as well as her personal belief in the production and its wider theme. But even if Loretta Young made many right or sometimes even intelligent choices in her performance, the role of Sister Margaret never allowed a multilayered approach – and Come to the Stable also did not need it, only existing on a carefully defined surface without any deeper emotions. Therefore, Loretta Young clearly understood her material and the simplicity of her work is beautiful to look at but her work is nevertheless often shockingly empty even if it provides occasional moments of grace and love. In the end, Loretta Young’s distinctive screen presence and her ability to radiate warmth and kindness leave a maybe not lasting but often satisfying impression that never symbolizes an outstanding artistic achievement but fulfills its overall goals nonetheless.

Best Actress 1949

The next year will be 1949 and the nominees were

Jeanne Crain in Pinky

Olivia de Havilland in The Heiress

Susan Hayward in My Foolish Heart

Deborah Kerr in Edward, My Son

Loretta Young in Come to the Stable

YOUR Best Actress of 1945

Here are the results of the poll:

1. Joan Crawford - Mildred Pierce (28 votes)

2. Gene Tierney - Leave her to Heaven (13 votes)

3. Ingrid Bergman- The Bells of St. Mary's (4 votes)

4. Jennifer Jones- Love Letters (3 vote)

5. Greer Garson - The Valley of Decision (0 votes)

Thanks to everyone for voting!

Ranking System

 Here is an overview of my ranking system

and what the different grades mean

---------------------------------------------------------

Best of the Best

Fantastic

Great

Strong

 

Very Good

 

Good

Acceptable

Unsatisfying

Disappointing

Bad

Some fun stats...

Just for fun, here are some statistics:


Most wins: Meryl Streep & Vivien Leigh (2 times each)

Most losses without a win: Greer Garson (4 times)

Most losses overall: Katharine Hepburn (6 times, but 1 win)

Most reviewed: Katharine Hepburn (7 times)

Most 5-star reviews: Bette Davis, Vivien Leigh & Meryl Streep (2 times each)

Most last places: Katharine Hepburn (3 times)

Most runner-ups: Bette Davis, Katharine Hepburn & Renée Zellweger (2 times each)

Best Actress 1945 - The resolution

After having watched and reviewed all five nominated performances, it's time to pick the winner!

5. Jennifer Jones in Love Letters

Jennifer Jones is mostly hold back by the script but her shortcomings as an actress, that can be very obvious whenever a role is not truly in her comfort zone, are often visible, too. Still, whenever she is allowed to shine and a scene allows her to display her own mysteriousness with the needed subtlety, Jennifer Jones truly creates some unforgettable and beautiful moments.

4. Greer Garson in Valley of Decision

                     

It seems that Greer Garson's talent was simply both too big and too small for movies like this – because on the one hand the role does not offer her anything to truly work with apart from feeling torn apart between different people and groups but at the same time she seems lost with the low quality of her material, unable to rise above it and only able to retreat to her own comfort zone which unfortunately too often contradicted the intentions of the script.

3. Ingrid Bergman in The Bells of St. Mary's

There are many moments in Ingrid Bergman's performance that never reach above average but she created something otherworldly during her final scenes and if she had been allowed to be on this high level all the time, then her performance would definitely have been much stronger and memorable. As it is, the strength of the final scenes does not help her to overcome the limitations of the script but she still leaves a lasting, heartwarming impression.

2. Joan Crawford in Mildred Pierce

Joan Crawford’s work in Mildred Pierce is one of the strangest ones in this category – she so obviously lacks many important qualities that the part needed but she also feels so right in the role, so irreplaceable and so satisfying that it’s hard to deny her the respect she obviously demands. And she clearly fulfills the task of carrying the picture and turning it into a captivating and intense experience, making not only the flaws of her own work but even those of the script seem forgettable.                

1. Gene Tierney in Leave her to Heaven

Gene Tierney gave a chilling and noteworthy performance that perfectly fulfilled all the tasks of the script even if it sometimes remained too limited. Still, her ability to show Ellen’s slow descent into the darkness of her own mind, her inability to stop her actions to be completely alone with the man she loves and her way of beautifully underplaying all the madness and demons that haunt her results in various unforgettable scenes.

Best Actress 1945: Gene Tierney in "Leave her to Heaven"

What is a film noir? There seem to be a lot of answers to this questions but what a film noir basically always requires are a collection of dubious characters, some kind of mysterious, dangerous woman, stylized dialogue and actions, sexual tension around almost every corner and a combination of crime and lust. Does Leave her to Heaven fit into all this? Well, it probably fits into this template enough to quality for the title – the movie is undoubtedly extremely stylized, lust and desire drive the plot and Gene Tierney’s Ellen Harland certainly deserves to be called ‘dangerous’ even if she is not a typical femme fatale. In this way, Leave her to Heaven certainly resembles other classics from its era, most notably Double Indemnity which caused a whole series of movies telling a fatal, tragic and criminal story in flashbacks (even in the same year Mildred Pierce did just the same). Yes, Leave her to Heaven does have what it takes to be called a film noir, most notably the kind of artificial action and dialogue which very often is extremely superficial but, when done right, creates a whole world of its own in which everything makes sense, in which sexual tension believable influences a character’s decision in a few minutes and which not only exists despite all its stylized elements but actually because of it. And, of course, there are the other ingredients of film noir – a grim black and white cinematography, dark figures hiding in foggy alleys, crimes committed in the emptiness of a sullen street, a world that almost knows no sunlight. And obviously, this is the one aspect in which Leave her to Heaven couldn’t be more different – instead of darkness and gloom it gives the viewer an array of colors that would put Douglas Sirk to shame, blue skies and green trees dominate the landscape, a crime is committed in open daylight on a wide, beautiful lake, everything is covered with a bright, light and beautiful surface – but underneath, Leave her to Heaven hides the same kind of dark secrets that its brothers in black and white offer, a horrible truth behind respectful facades. This stark contrast between exterior and interior crafts a strikingly undecided atmosphere and presents a place that should be quiet and peaceful but is constantly haunted by tragedy and thus is maybe the biggest asset of Leave her to Heaven – or actually rather its second-biggest asset since the greatest aspect of Leave her to Haven is undoubtedly its leading lady who plays a role that maybe makes it very easy to leave a lasting impression since the actions and deeds of such a woman are impossible to forget but also has to be played with careful attention to remain probable enough on its own but also fits into its stylized surroundings.

Martin Scorsese apparently called Gene Tierney one of the most underrated actresses of the Golden Era – I cannot comment on this since my knowledge of her filmography is not extended enough for this but she was certainly much more than a pretty face and never afraid to show a dark, off-putting and arrogant side in her characters. And the words ‘more than a pretty face’ not only refer to her talents as an actress but also to the fact that the word ‘pretty’ doesn’t even begin to describe her riveting and transcendent beauty which maybe sometimes made it hard for her to get the credit as an actress she deserved but wonderfully helped her to overcome various problems in Leave her to Heaven’s script. Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder and there are various different kind of beauties that have lightened up the movie screens over the years – there is the unique, sometimes sharp beauty of actresses like Katharine Hepburn or Bette Davis, the exotic and mysterious beauty of Greta Garbo or Marlene Dietrich, the sex-filled but also innocence looks of Marilyn Monroe, the elfin beauty of Audrey Hepburn or the timeless elegance and flawless looks of Grace Kelly. Most of all, Gene Tierney seems to fit into the category of Grace Kelly, a flawless and elegant beauty but she also possessed an exotic, even more obvious pulchritude that made her an almost surreal presence in her pictures. In black and white, Gene Tierney could glow and shine even in the darkest settings, in color she almost looked like a painting. Whenever she is given one of Leave her to Heaven’s long, wordless close-up, the strong, rich colors of the picture make her appear like a creature out of a fairy-tale – unreal and mystical but Gene Tierney’s face also knows a certain hardness and bitterness that helped her to always show the danger and rage hiding behind her eyes. Her beauty, despite its elegance and style, never appears innocent or soft – instead, she could explore various shades and layers in her characters, turning her face more than once into a window to her inner feelings and this way extend the women she played beyond her own beauty. As just mentioned, she could portray women who were charming and graceful but also spoiled, mean-spirited, arrogant and self-righteous. This was never displayed better than in The Razor’s Edge in which she constantly pushed the character of her alcoholic friend to the edge of her own mental and physical stability to regain her influence over the man she loved her whole life but rejected too many times. It’s a realistic portrayal in which Gene Tierney was willing to create a strongly off-putting but still intriguing character. This unlikable, ignorant quality somehow was very often visible in the women she played – and Gene Tierney’s voice, her elegant but also hard face, her representation of the feeling of constant superiority helped her immensely in her creation of Ellen Harland, a woman who slowly, step by step, reveals her obsessive nature and a feeling to have the right to sacrifice the existence of others for her own happiness.

In Leave her to Heaven, Gene Tierney’s beauty helped to cover various simplifications in the plot but her own interpretation of Ellen Harlan always goes beyond this and crafts this women with a clear, sometimes limited but still captivating determination. The truth is that the screenplay of Leave her to Haven offers Gene Tierney much less than what could be expected based on the premise of the part. Ellen Harland may be the movie’s centre and most vigorous character but she only exists on the surface and the role is almost a cliché, created only as a vessel for the movie’s plot and filled with all the expected ingredients – hidden moments of obsession, child-like innocence mixed with murderous energy, a constant change of mood and all the other aspects expected from such a character. Furthermore, the screenplay also never invests any time in the relationship between Ellen and Richard. The idea that Ellen’s obsession comes from Richard’s resemblance to her beloved, idealized father may offer some interesting thoughts but is mostly too flat and stereotypical for any deeper observations. Because of all this, Leave her to Heaven mostly rests on the fascination that it thinks Ellen Harland can evoke in its audience – but this concept only works if the actress actually possesses this fascination. In this aspect, Gene Tierney was certainly the right choice for the role as her unique, fascinating beauty and ability to be so completely engaging from the first moment on helped to make the sudden romance between Ellen and Richard believable and also created the following tone of the story in which Ellen more and more showed her true nature but still possessed enough appeal and charm to keep Richard close to her. But while Gene Tierney certainly made the most of her role, the script unfortunately did not allow her to find more subtle shades in Ellen, give more reason to her love and her obsession beyond the clichés of the script. This is why Ellen Harland, as stated before, is not the typical femme fatale – she does not seem to act out of her own decision but rather seems controlled by her own obsession. The part of Ellen Harland does not allow Gene Tierney the same playfulness and risks as Double Indemnity did Barbara Stanwyck – both had to face the difficulty of portraying characters that had to be strangely unreal in the context of her story but also believably enough to capture the audience’s attention. Both actresses succeeded in this part but Barbara Stanwyck’s Phyllis Dietrichson was still a woman who was very much the master of her own mind and could therefore show a whole amount of subtle hints at the thoughts going on inside her head. Gene Tierney’s Ellen Harland did not give her the same chances because she had to follow a certain formula and could not truly invest in any deeper layers because Ellen only exists as a woman driven by her own madness.

So, Gene Tierney was given the luxury of a scene-stealing and unforgettable part but she was not allowed to act beyond the tight guidelines of the script and had to play a psychopath with all the expected moves and actions. But miraculously, Gene Tierney still came out of this battle victorious since her embodiment of this woman, predictable as it may seem sometimes, works surprisingly well – Ellen may be a predictable character but Gene Tierney knows how to keep her surprising, making Ellen’s desperateness, her constant change of moods, the unfriendliness and hate that becomes more and more apparent with every day she cannot have Richard for herself extremely disturbing and memorable. Right from the start, Gene Tierney knows how to establish Ellen as an unforgettable presence before she even opens her mouth during the first seconds of her appearance thanks to her dark, mysterious beauty which is so immensely helped by the stark colors of the movie. And when she finally does open her mouth, the effect is staggering – instead of a deep and husky voice, Gene Tierney sounds almost like a little girl, saying the words ‘Thank you’ without any hint at a mature, experienced and self-assured beauty. Gene Tierney apparently started smoking to lower the sound of her voice, stating that she sounds like an angry Minnie Mouse but this soft and slightly child-like sound only added to her portrayal of a woman who acts with the determination of a spoiled child. In later scenes, she unfortunately sometimes overdoes the effect of her voice, reducing her lines to a dramatic whisper even when there is no need to do it. But what Gene Tierney does not overdo in those early moments of Leave her to Heaven is the slow process during which Ellen becomes more and more obsessed with Richard – only in small steps she begins to reveal Ellen's true nature. Her remarks how much Richard resembles her father might seem like the sorrow of a devoted daughter, her attempts to prevent Richard’s little brother from living with them already feel rather peculiar (even though Gene Tierney wonderfully displayed a refreshing honesty in Ellen, both in the scenes opposite Danny whom she clearly loves as long he does not come between her and Richard and opposite Danny’s doctor whom she unsuccessfully tries to convince that Danny should not come with them) and finally her open hate opposite her family which is disturbing her quiet life with Richard fully materializes the woman that Ellen truly is.

It’s intriguing that neither Leave her to Heaven nor Gene Tierney really decided on the character of Ellen – Ellen may constantly seem lost but Gene Tierney isn’t, even when she is keepng her character in the dark. Most of all, her Ellen is not a psychopathic mastermind – rather she crafts her as a women who doesn’t know when to stop, who is unable to see the world beyond her obsessive love and is therefore mostly a pitiful creation, dangerous as she may be. She never seems to be truly satisfied about her deeds but doesn’t regret them either. This way, she perfectly manages to make the viewer wonder and shiver at the same time. And when Ellen finally decides for herself to take a tragic step to have Richard all for herself, Gene Tierney creates the most unforgettable scenes of 1945 – when she sits in a little boat, just waiting for ‘her problem to solve itself’, Gene Tierney is able to communicate all of Ellen’s feelings even through a large pair of sunglasses, moving her lips and distorting her lower face without truly moving a single muscle. It’s the wonder of Gene Tierney’s beauty that she is able to look so completely off-putting in this scene, displaying her hate on her face without ever losing her classic elegance. But instead of turning Ellen into a symbol of evil, Gene Tierney more than once finds the child-like innocence in Ellen again, making it visible how desperate, lost and lonely she feels and that she cannot find an escape from her own obsessions. Gene Tierney thankfully doesn’t use these moments to try to evoke sympathy for Ellen or her actions but instead tries to give reason to unreasonable deeds. She even seems to regret her own doings before she started them, trying to convince Richard’s brother to leave them alone and almost showing a feeling of regret when she does not succeed – regret not for herself but even more for him. In the following scenes, Gene Tierney again underlines the child-like nature of Ellen as she is unable to connect to Richard again after what happened – nor can she stop her ever increasing jealously from further alienating herself from everyone around her. Gene Tierney manages to never turn Ellen into the kind of stereotypical villain that deserves the audiences’ hate but rather creates her as a victim of her own obsessions, unable to keep control over herself, acting more out of fear than anything else. But even in the child-like innocence, Gene Tierney also finds an almost shocking amount of truth when she lets Ellen speak so depreciatory about her unborn child. Gene Tierney intensifies both Ellen’s desperation for her own situation and open disdain for everything that is not Richard and constantly lets these emotions clash with each other to further and further destroy the balance in Ellen’s life and mind. The look on her face when she is standing at the top of the staircase is a perfect combination of determination, doubt, hatred, seclusion – and madness.

Overall, Gene Tierney gave a chilling and noteworthy performance that perfectly fulfilled all the tasks of the script even if it sometimes remained too limited. Still, her ability to show Ellen’s slow descent into the darkness of her own mind, her inability to stop her actions to be completely alone with the man she loves and her way of beautifully underplaying all the madness and demons that haunt her results in various unforgettable scenes for which she receives

Best Actress 1945: Greer Garson in "The Valley of Decision"

By 1946, Greer Garson had turned herself into an undeniable force and constant presence in the Best Actress category as her nomination for her work as an Irish maid who falls in love with the son of her employers was her fifth consecutive recognition in this category, following her nominations for Blossoms in the Dust, Mrs. Miniver, Madame Curie and Mrs. Parkington and it was also her overall sixth nomination in only seven years – after her Oscar-nominated film debut in Goodbye, Mr. Chips, Oscar voters clearly wanted to show that their affection for the charming and engaging wife of a shy school teacher was not a short-lived experience and eagerly embraced her work year after year. In fact, 1941 was the only time between 1940 and 1946 when the Academy did not include her among the five best actresses of the year and her later Oscar win for her career-defining performance as the title character in the World War II drama Mrs. Miniver combined her high reputation among audiences and critics with an honest acknowledgement from the industry, too, and her win became an ultimate symbol of an actress who reached the highpoint of her artistic acclaim with the peak of her popularity – the year 1942 was the year of Greer Garson, dominated not only by her work in Mrs. Miniver but also the romantic drama Random Harvest and both movies turned her into the first lady of the screen, further confirming her immediate success only three years earlier and also building the foundation for her ongoing stardom in the following years during which she was not only frequently honored by the Academy but single-handedly turned her displays of noble suffering and quiet dignity into some of the financially most successful movies of their respective years. Five consecutive nominations in a row are an indisputable tribute by the Academy to an actress who achieved high esteem with both critics and audiences and who managed to fulfill her own premise year after year, continuously delivering performances that met or exceeded all expectations – just like Bette Davis, the first actress who was able to receive five consecutive Best Actress nominations just a couple of years earlier, Greer Garson found herself in a situation where everything she did turned into gold and both actresses used their high reputation and influence to secure roles that appealed to their professional ambitions and personal preferences. But despite their equal recognition by the Academy with such a unique honor and constant acclaim, the careers and artistic expressions of Bette Davis and Greer Garson were overall more strongly defined by their differences than their similarities and therefore their nominations display the always-present affection of Oscar voters for different styles and personalities, shaped by certain habits and varied developments and both actresses stand for the diversity that characterized the most popular and successful stars and artists of the time. Bette Davis entered Hollywood without causing any kind of interest and she had to fight long and hard to not only overcome doubts about her abilities to carry a picture and turn it into a success but also to defy prevailing ideas of beauty and star qualities, finally gaining attention by playing characters that other actresses refused and winning nationwide popularity due to her unusual and unprecedented willingness to portray a wide array of human chasms with absorbing intensity and uncompromising dedication. Greer Garson, on the other hand, enjoyed a much smoother route to success – Louis B. Mayer himself discovered her in London and convinced her to sign a contract with MGM but she would decline all parts she was offered until she finally made her film debut in Goodbye, Mr. Chips which was accompanied by enthusiastic reviews and her first Oscar nomination and audiences were also immediately enchanted by her warm elegance and charming personality, turning her debut into the beginning of a distinguished career that would dominate the years to come. But the careers of Bette Davis and Greer Garson did not only display strong differences in their beginnings but continued to show their distinct characteristics despite their similar success and were constantly formed by the diverse personalities behind the popular facades. After her first Oscar win, Bette Davis again found herself cast in various unsatisfying parts and it wasn’t until she started an unsuccessful trial against her employers and then won her second award for Jezebel that she truly established herself as a popular force on the screen. But critics would become disappointed by her work in the succeeding half of the decade and after a while audiences followed, too, and even if A Stolen Life became one of the biggest hits of Bette Davis’s career, she still had to experience a professional decline that saw this career almost coming to an end – but Bette Davis had always shown her strong determination to fight and survive and her artistic life would continue to be shaped by an ongoing up and down as movies like All about Eve and Whatever happened to Baby Jane? again revived her career in the future but simultaneously also stood at the beginning of further setbacks that would bring another array of undemanding roles in unsatisfying pictures. It was an overall stormy but also very unique career but it shared the similarity with Greer Garson that both actresses had to experience a slow decrease of fame and acclaim after having reached an indisputable popularity with audiences and Oscar voters – after her sixth Best Actress nomination for The Valley of Decision, Greer Garson was still in high demand, starring as Clark Gable’s love interest in his first movie after World War II and she continued to appear in various pictures that followed the formula which had made her performances initially so popular but audiences and Oscar voters finally moved on and began to look for different stars and critics, too, seemed to stop caring about her work even if they did not react in the same negative way as they did to Bette Davis during the same time. But like Bette Davis, Greer Garson was able to return to the Oscar game another time even if her nod for her performance in Sunrise at Campobello did not turn into her own All about Eve or Whatever happened to Baby Jane? and remained a final acknowledgement of her artistry without influencing the further course of her remaining career. So, a look at the professional paths of these two actresses shows that they may have both enjoyed a high popularity with Academy members and audiences for a certain time but also that there was not any true consensus in their work or their developments beyond that – Bette Davis had to struggle and fight to achieve what came to Greer Garson so easily but she in turn had to see her success and popularity drop much faster than Bette Davis who, even though her career might have seen various ups and downs, enjoyed a lasting longevity and a reputation as one of the greatest actresses of the 20th century. And in the context of Greer Garson’s overall career as well as in a comparison with Bette Davis as the only other actress who enjoyed the same kind of admiration by the Academy during the same time, her nomination for The Valley of Decision is one of the most interesting in the history of the Best Actress category: on the one hand it showed an actress at the height of her power, receiving her fifth nomination in a row for being the leading character in one of the most successful movies of the year, further emphasizing her status and reputation in Hollywood, but at the same time it also appears to be her swan song and the picture that stands at the end of her short but influential reign – she might have done more movies and received another Oscar nomination in the future but this undeniable period of her career was over and she would also never again attract the same amount of admiration and respect that came to her so easily and massively in the subsequent years after her film debut. But why did the Academy suddenly forget about Greer Garson after it had constantly nominated her year after year? Why was she not able to achieve the same kind of longevity as Bette Davis since the triumphs of both actresses appeared to be so similar during this era? It is certainly not difficult to understand Greer Garson’s quick rise to stardom since her British charm and elegance that constantly displayed a youthful charm and a noble simplicity, combining both down-to-earth and aristocratic features that she elegantly combined in her work, made her an easily accessible presence on the screen and furthermore almost turned her into a symbol of Britain itself, giving a voice to a country that was fighting for its existence and almost becoming an ambassador for her home country during its struggle against Nazi Germany, culminating with her role as a housewife who tries to keep her family intact during the time of the Blitz and it therefore appears only logical that this would also turn out to be signature role of her career, combing her personality, her background and her time and it seems that her five consecutive nominations were less a tribute to her ongoing success but rather a testament to her peak in 1942 which allowed her to continue her popularity for the next years, turning her into an integral component of the Best Actress category – until the war was over. It is an interesting fact that Greer Garson’s success exactly paralleled the time of World War II but her movies actually rarely concerned themselves with her home country and its battle for survival, finding acclaim instead with stories set in pre-War times and ranging from Britain to France and to Texas and even if Kay.Miniver seems to be the part that fit to her personality the most she still pleased viewers with stories that did not focus on war and current politics but rather on love and the overcoming of different obstacles, may it be hidden radioactive elements, the laws of Texas or another woman, and she always came out as the winner at the end, having morals and righteousness on her side. So even if her acclaim reached its highpoint during the years of World War II, her drop of popularity cannot be attributed to a sudden disinterest in topics relating to England or Great Britain after the war was won – and therefore rather needs to be explained by a disinterest in Greer Garson herself. It seems that movie goers and critics moved on after the war, looking for new stars and performers and losing interest in the kind of roles that Greer Garson had specialized in during the years before. Critics and audiences might have turned away from Bette Davis when the quality of her performances and her movies decreased – but in the case of Greer Garson it is likely that they turned away because she stayed the same. The quality of her work might not have decreased during this time in the same way as that of Bette Davis but even if her performances always met the expectations they never surpassed them – by 1946 Greer Garson had basically perfected her screen persona, the noble, dignified, elegant woman, sometimes shy but confident in the end and always a symbol of style and grace, filling all her characters with the same features, no matter if they were a British housewife, an American campaigner for children’s rights, a French scientist or an Irish maid. And so her creations were often strangely similar despite their different backgrounds or even nationalities as her roles may have varied on the surface but most of the time presented the same essence – Greer Garson created a warm familiarity among audiences with her acting style and engaging personality that gave a feeling of stability and certainty but in this process she unfortunately lacked the surprise, the eagerness to experiment, the willingness to change her image which other actresses of her time displayed, making it therefore understandable why the time came when this familiarity lost its sparkle and caused her sudden disappearance from the Best Actress category as well as the top of the box office. The sentimentality and structure of her movies and characters were precisely what audiences wanted to see during World War II– and stopped wanting to see when the war was over, making it harder for Greer Garson to find the kind of roles that had fitted her so nicely. Overall, this shows that the careers of Bette Davis and Greer Garson were shaped by their diverse personalities, acting styles and acting choices and therefore created a different effect and sustainability – while Greer Garson established her elegant but ultimately repetitive screen persona with precise accentuation, Bette Davis found a wide variety of different roles as she played suffering heroines and unforgiving tyrants with the same dedication and meticulousness, never being comfortable with any kind of overall screen personality, constantly displaying her willingness to refuse any sympathy or gentleness in her parts. And also other contemporary leading female stars ensured their permanence by widening their artistic horizon – Katharine Hepburn may be mostly remembered for her creation of strong, independent women but she still found a wide array of human conditions beyond this and never threatened to just repeat herself, very often re-inventing her screen personality during her career while Barbara Stanwyck never allowed herself to be identified with any kind of specific part or role and also other popular actresses during these years like Olivia de Havilland, Rosalind Russell or Ingrid Bergman found different women, stories and fates in their own acting and personalities. So looking back at the careers of Bette Davis and Greer Garson, it does not seem surprising that they took such different paths even if the acclaim by Academy members reached the same level during their primes. But even if Greer Garson did often not display the same kind of versatility as her contemporaries, it is a testament to her undeniable amount of charisma and charm that was so honestly youthful, charming, appealing and very often heartwarming while also preserving a grace and style that come to her so easily, that she was able to become such a force on the screen and that could turn rather simple tales and movies into crowd-pleasing hits. But the wind of change that arrived with the end of World War II and portrays the end of an era also influenced the route of her professional live as tastes and appreciation shifted and other actresses became the first choice for roles that she might have gotten a couple of years earlier. And The Valley of Decision appears to be standing right in the middle of this transition period – it represents her final nod during her prime, an infinite proof that the Academy still adored her work year after year but also unknowingly signaled the end of her true movie stardom and constant praise. But does this performance truly stand in the tradition of her familiar work, proceeding her style and personality and presenting a familiarity that made Oscar voters quickly feel comfortable, or did it offer something else, something that went beyond the usual display of elegant grace and benign depiction and that caused the Academy to recognize her a fifth time in a row?

In 1945, the whole world was affected by the end of World War II and Hollywood, too, experienced the end of a precise time and phase – European movies would soon threaten the success of American productions and audiences began to ask for stories that were defined by realism instead of sentimentality, causing a shift of styles and themes that affected actors as well as artists behind the camera. And so the personal transition period of Greer Garson happened in the context and was caused by a larger change of direction – and The Valley of Decision, too, stands within this transition period and mixes political topics and themes into the love story between the two leading characters, something that had been carefully avoided previously in Greer Garson’s Madame Curie, posing questions on class relations and social justice, trying to achieve a certain level of realism and contemporariness even if the story itself is set in the late 19th century. But even with these ambitions, The Valley of Decision has problems to combine these social issues with the sentimentality of the love story at its center, feeling unnecessary sweetened even in darker moments, clearly focusing most of its energy on Greer Garson’s central performance while also trying to balance it with a larger message and opportunities for rising leading man Gregory Peck to shine, too. Overall, the story deals with its topic in a hardened, more threatening way and the differences and hate between opposing classes are addressed with less romance and simplicity than in Greer Garson’s Mrs. Miniver where its purpose was not to present a situation as it is but rather as it should be but these issues are constantly overshadowed by the story’s focus on the central relationship and furthermore pushed aside by the simplicity of Greer Garson’s character Mary Rafferty who emphasizes the mawkishness of the story and only occasionally adds to its broader themes. In 1945, such an uneven combination was still exciting and new enough to turn The Valley of Decision into one of the most popular movies of the year but the question is if this box office success was only caused by the presence of Greer Garson or if other factors had caused the interest of American audiences – so far, Greer Garson had turned movies that only depended on her performances into financial successes and very often her pairing with frequent co-star Walter Pidgeon was enough to attract movie goers nationwide but after Madame Curie and Mrs. Parkington, The Valley of Decision put a stronger emphasis on her surrounding environment, filling small parts with recognizable supporting players but most of all switched the omnipresent Walter Pidgeon with the upcoming star Gregory Peck who appeared in only his third motion picture overall and would also win hist first Best Actor nomination the same year, dominating the upcoming Academy Awards almost with the same strength as Greer Garson used to do, even if he needed to wait longer for his own Oscar triumph. Did movie producers in 1945 maybe fear that the pairing of Greer Garson and Walter Pidgeon would not be sufficient any more to turn The Valley of Decision into a success or did they want to capitalize on Gregory Peck’s new-found fame and popularity which would have made the movie not only a star-vehicle for Greer Garson but for her leading men, too, something that had never happened in the past with Walter Pidgeon who, even though he received Oscar-nominations for two of his performances opposite Greer Garson, was always a follower in his parts, accepting his position behind Greer Garson and never tried to steal any attention away from his co-star. So it seems that The Valley of Decision was already a new territory for Greer Garson where her performance remained the center of attention but was no longer the sole raison d’être and the sentimental tone of her work could not alone carry the picture any more, sometimes even contradicting its intentions – mostly because the screenplay was not completely sure just how to insert Mary Rafferty into her own story or rather how to truly equate the main plotlines and develop the central character. As an actress, Greer Garson always closely followed the materials she were given, never leaving the pre-defined courses of the screenplays and only added complexity or depth to her work whenever her characters asked her to do so – in The Valley of Decision this unfortunately happens too rarely as the role is mostly defined by her sweet-natured character and her willingness to let things happen without questioning them until Greer Garson is lastly allowed to display a captivating array of determination and strength in the final parts of the story. But while her work often effectively combined a certain sentimental quality with intelligent emotions, her performances always worked best when the sentimentality of the story was not used for sentimentality itself but in the movie’s greater context – Goodbye, Mr. Chips managed to present its sentimentality as something worthwhile in itself, as necessary and as part of the overall account of this man’s life while Mrs. Miniver found the brutal honesty of war beyond the sugar-coated image of an ideal England and Blossoms in the Dust showed an important fight of a determined woman hidden underneath a colorful love story. But in The Valley of Decision, Greer Garson often seemed unsure of how to craft her part as the role actively demanded a romantic approach that showed a young woman creating her own identity but often did not benefit from her strength on the screen – overall, the part of Mary Rafferty might seem tailor-made for Greer Garson and she injected it with her usual elegant personality, giving dignity to a role that easily could have become risible in the hands of a lesser actress, but very often she added too much dignity and maturity to the character of a woman who must learn and develop, connect two different classes and worlds, and even if Greer Garson was able to position Mary somewhere between her own people and the family she is working for, she still found too little shades that showed how this standing influenced and shaped her personality, even if her work was still able to carry the picture and created a heroine that is easy to both like and admire.

During her career, Greer Garson was almost always the driving force of her story, the one whose actions brought the plot along and who set the tone – even among the larger ensemble of Mrs. Miniver, she remained the single point of reference and the one character that brought all plot lines together. In The Valley of Decision, the character of Mary Rafferty is, too, the pivotal perspective that unifies all angles and deeds but she is much stronger influenced by those around her, often reacting instead of acting and as a result, the most important aspect of this performance is less the creating of Mary Rafferty herself but rather of Mary Rafferty in relation to the other characters in the story – a task that was realized by Greer Garson with different effects and success mostly because she often feels lost during the first parts of the story until her screen presence becomes a more natural portion of the movie and the character relations in the end. At the beginning of The Valley of Decision, Greer Garson’s performance mostly suffers from her inability to portray a woman who is supposed to be shaped less by her intelligence and more by her gentleness and her goodness but also by her inability to express or fully comprehend manipulation and viciousness and who does not completely fit into the structure of an upper-class household – but during her career, Greer Garson’s performances were always marked by the exact opposite, by her maturity and visible wisdom and even if those characterizations were sometimes complemented by a natural shyness, she still portrayed an undeniable strength and dapperness that made her an exemplary presence in every situation. But The Valley of Decision needs Greer Garson’s Mary Rafferty to feel out of place more often than once and to feel inable to interact with those around her – and indeed the picture shows a Greer Garson that is not able to fully communicate with her co-stars but unfortunately not for the right reasons in the context of the screenplay but rather for the wrong reasons that came out of her incapability to hide her own personality behind the demands of the role, showing that while the part might appeal to her usual qualities in some scenes it is just as widely out of her comfort zone and standard displays of sagacity and life experience. Obviously, Greer Garson herself did her best to adjust her acting style to the situations that Mary experiences – there is plausibility in her presentation of Mary’s shyness and uncertainty in specific moments, especially around her disapproving father, but these moments win their strengths from Mary’s inability to cope with the social norms and the clash with her own family and the family she is working for while other moments that ask Greer Garson to create the shyness of Mary out of her character did not work quite so well – scenes of her being unable to get the attention of her employees when she wants to announce dinner or awkwardly looking for the entrance of the house on her first day are rather misplaced instead of a moving comment on social differences or a presentation of a young woman who has to train her own abilities and thoughts. But Greer Garson’s struggle to realize the character of Mary Rafferty is not only connected to her presence on the screen but also to another factor that she could not overcome – her age. Of course, the illusion of acting can include the change of age and many times in movie history actors and actresses have played parts that needed them to become either older or younger but in The Valley of Decision, Greer Garson suffers from the fact that the story never clearly addresses Mary’s age, making either her behavior or Greer Garson herself inappropriate in the context of the story – is Mary an old, insecure maid who tendered her father for her whole life and is now taking the chance to find a new meaning in life or is she supposed to be a young, inexperienced girl, still trying to find herself and her own views? The screenplay suggests the latter, hinting that Mary might get her new position in the Rafferty’s household after a personal recommendation from her school but 41-year old Greer Garson seems unsure how to establish this character and often switches between these different spectrums, neither doing herself nor the movie any favor as her own screen personality makes it impossible for her to embody either a young and inexperienced girl or an old, shy maid. And this insecurity in regard to her own acting choices also influences Greer Garson’s performance opposite her different co-stars – her inability to craft a layer of social awkwardness over her character cannot deny the usual intelligence and sophistication that shape her performances and her confidence in front of the camera therefore rather distracts in scenes with Gladys Cooper since both women appear equally self-assured and world-wise, much more equal than the script allows. Similarly, the scenes between Mary and the Rafferty’s daughter Constance further show the vagueness of the whole character as the feelings between Mary and Constance constantly change, sometimes treating each other as best friends who can share their secrets and sometimes becoming an almost mother-daughter-relationship where Mary looks after Constance with sudden wisdom and experience. But most of all, the central love affair between Mary and Paul Scott provides the least satisfying part of Greer Garson’s performance – she and Gregory Peck unfortunately failed to create a believable affection between these two characters that are pulled apart by various obstacles but are constantly attracted to each other since they seem strangely uncomfortable around each other as Greer Garson’s attempt to portray an almost school-girl like crush while Gregory Peck takes the part as the wiser and more deciding force does not come to live in their actual work and both stars follow the script with looks and gestures that are expected but never feel genuine, failing to give the love story between Mary and Paul the needed believability, for example in scenes that have the two lovers talk on a hill or share a first kiss on a boat. And so it seems strangely ironic that Greer Garson’s acting opposite her co-stars who played the members of the Scott family harmed her overall performance so strongly because her performance is actually supposed to create this distance between Mary and her employees but this detachment was never accomplished in correlation with the script but out of Greer Garson’s inability to portray the youthfulness, the shyness, the awkwardness and the inexperience of her character. But strangely enough the other important relation in Mary’s life was realized with much more success as Greer Garson finds a perfect balance opposite Lionel Barrymore in the role of her disapproving father – in her scenes with him she feels much surer of herself and her own personality, crafting the character much closer to her usual energy whenever she has to portray Mary’s disability to deal with her father’s hatred and dissatisfaction, trying to compensate her love with her rejection of his ideas about the Scotts and she is especially absorbing when she shouts at him for insulting Paul Scott, feeling both proud and ashamed of her anger towards him, unable to completely let him go while wanting to be rid of his hatred at the same time and she is equally moving when she silently absorbs the shock after various loathing words from her father after she told him of her future plans. In all these scenes, Greer Garson lets Mary be closer to her own personality instead of trying to display characteristics she cannot relate to – and this is also the reason why the later parts of her performance improve drastically during the process of the story as it allows her to integrate her confidence and elegance more openly into her characterization. The Valley of Decision may never give Greer Garson the chance to let Mary develop during her experiences and instead wanted her performance to simply capture different aspects of the role without exploring their origin in any way but she is still allowed to be much more confident and relaxed on the screen, able to let her usual vitality define her role at last. Therefore Greer Garson mostly shines in scenes that truly focus on her abilities to express quiet pain with noble dignity – her scene with Gregory Peck in which Mary tells Paul that she cannot be with him because her father put a curse on their relationship comes quite suddenly, both in the context of the movie but also in Greer Garson’s performance because her work, for a few scenes, is hauntingly real and engaging, displaying all the sorrow and pain that had pestered her character for so long. And later in the movie, Greer Garson gets to deliver the most captivating and poignant moment of the story when she pleads to keep the steel mines of the town going – her monologue is done without any exaggeration or pressure, rather she keeps Mary’s quietness intact and for the first time truly seems to find a use for Mary’s shyness, turning it around for the sake of a passionate speech but still staying true to the character, playing a strong yet subtle determination, letting Mary’s words speak for themselves and Greer Garson also has to be applauded for the way in which she tells Paul’s wife that she has always loved her husband as her reveal is done very quietly but completely honest and turns into a extremely memorable moment, both for the audience and Paul’s wife.

Somehow, Mary Rafferty is one of Greer Garson’s most unusual performances and she feels less like herself than in much of her other work and the part offered her the chance to display her usual standard repertoire while also allowing her to create the illusion of stretching herself artistically, playing a maid with an Irish accent in contrast to her usual more refined characters but in the end the part only benefitted from her performance when she was allowed to shine with her strongest assets. Overall, her performance is a simple but also lovely portrayal that creates some touching and memorable images and moments and carries the picture without providing a truly thought-through or fitting approach. In the end, it’s a performance that is able to explain both the lasting appeal of Greer Garson as well as her sudden drop in popularity, combining her usual charm and style that made her so easy to admire but also showing that the times were changing, giving her less opportunities to give the kind of performances that audiences had been so eager to see during the times of World War II. The movie and Greer Garson’s work as well as her position in Hollywood were influenced by the new atmosphere around them and while this performance does stand in the tradition of her previous work, it also offered something unexpected, mostly in her desire to downplay her own strengths on the screen – even if her performance succeeded most whenever she actually used those strengths. So, The Valley of Decision does not show Greer Garson at the peak of her artistry and it seems that the honor of receiving a fifth nomination in a row is more a testament to her star power than her actual performance but even with all the flaws in this piece of work, Greer Garson still provided some beautiful and occassionally haunting moments that display her talent, charm and grace and makes both her nomination and popularity as well as the ultimate end of her reign understandable.