Bette Davis

  • The Great Lie (1941)

    The Great Lie (1941)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, December 2021) The melodrama flies thick and fast in The Great Lie, as the film begins with a romantic triangle that is almost immediately complicated by the abrupt death of one of the principals, his impregnation of a second, and the third’s attempts to purchase the resulting child to raise on her own. Oh yes, this is soap-opera material in classic Hollywood fashion, with pesky marriages and reappearances always ruining everything. Fortunately, good execution compensates for weak source material: With Bette Davis and Mary Astor taking up most of the scenes, they at least give it all they’ve got in the acting department. (They also reportedly rewrote much of the dialogue to suit themselves, which is enough to make anyone wonder just how bad the original script was.)  Astor won an Oscar for her troubles, and Davis escapes unscathed from the ludicrous narrative. By no means an essential film unless you’re running down Oscar-winning performances, The Great Lie can be entertaining as an example of the sort of melodramatic silliness that Classic Hollywood often attempted, but it’s a relief to see it being rescued by its lead actresses.

  • Old Acquaintance (1943)

    Old Acquaintance (1943)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, October 2021) While the TV Guide log-line for Old Acquaintance has something to do with novelists, don’t be fooled: the film is very much a woman’s drama in which the friendship between two childhood friends (Bette Davis and Miriam Hopkins, who famously clashed during shooting) is described over decades through its highs and lows. It’s not uninteresting, but it does get familiar very quickly, with the usual melodrama and histrionics about wayward husbands, children and overdeveloped egos. The only welcome respite comes late during the film as Davis shakes and slaps Hopkins, bringing a bit more energy into the mix. Otherwise, the entire thing does feel like a Classic Hollywood theatrical production—humourless, technically accomplished, but perhaps more focused on getting the thing done during a difficult shoot. It’s watchable largely thanks to Davis, but hardly remarkable outside the shaking-and-slapping sequence.

  • Satan Met a Lady (1936)

    Satan Met a Lady (1936)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, August 2021) It’s hard to argue that Satan Met a Lady is an interesting film by itself — while it features a killer title (especially for a film released so soon after the enforcement of the Hays Code), it’s executed like many jocular detective movies of the 1930s, and there are far better examples of the form than this one. But where Satan Met a Lady becomes truly special is in the exemplary lesson it offers in how tone can reshape a film adaptation. For this is, amazingly, an adaptation of Dashiell Hammett’s The Maltese Falcon, five years before the John Huston adaptation that would help ignite the film noir genre and launch Humphrey Bogart to superstardom. The protagonist here, played by a twinkle-eyed Warren Williams, couldn’t be farther away from Bogart — he’s a smooth romantic operator and a constant one-liner generator who barely takes himself seriously. Not that he is the most outrageous deviation of the adaptation, which takes so many liberties with the source material than even viewers with fresh memories of the 1941 version will have trouble spotting the similarities. But the frankly comic tone is where the film is most distinctive, and perhaps most enjoyable as well. It’s not a good movie — Bette Davis, one of the film’s lone bright spots as the femme fatale, famously rebelled and refused to show up on set for the first few days of shooting—but it becomes fascinating when you put it against the film noir style of telling roughly the same story. Then again, film noir wasn’t even in the cards in 1936 — amateur sleuths and high-society escapes from the Depression were the vogue, and Warner Brothers was clearly aiming at chasing trends of the time. Despite a plot that becomes unpalatable late in the film’s brisk 74 minutes, Satan Met a Lady is not an unbearable watch, but it’s far best appreciated as the second feature in a Maltese double (or triple) bill.

  • Wicked Stepmother (1989)

    Wicked Stepmother (1989)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, June 2021) Somehow, it makes perfect sense that Bette Davis’ final film role was that of a witch in Wicked Stepmother. It makes even more sense that the production on that film was immensely troubled, all the way to Davis quitting midway through production, leaving writer-director Larry Cohen to try to patch the holes left by a half-performance even though the role had been written for her. (Cohen explains everything in the rather wonderful essay “I Killed Better Davis.”)  Considering behind-the-scenes drama of that magnitude, you’d be forgiven for thinking of the film as a mere adjunct to the story of Bette Davis’ last role. But it turns out that Wicked Stepmother manages to remain an adequate B-movie. The plot follows as a young woman as she returns from vacation and finds out that her father has married an old woman (Davis), who turns out to be a witch and has the ability to transform herself into a young woman. (…and there’s the trick used by Cohen to keep the film going after Davis’ departure.)  The rest of the film is a battle between our protagonist and the witch, escalating in a bunch of special-effects heavy sequences. Wicked Stepmother is not something particularly good, mind you, but it generally holds up on its own as a B-movie, and makes even more sense considering the film’s production problems.

  • The Corn is Green (1945)

    The Corn is Green (1945)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, April 2021) Inspiring teacher stories are often timeless, and seeing a star like Bette Davis aged fifteen years older in order to play a matronly teacher doing her damnedest to send a student from a poor remote mining town to Oxford is a high concept that remains accessible even decades later. Of course, there’s a difference between a good idea and a compelling execution, and while The Corn is Green is a serviceable example of its sub-genre, it’s not exactly riveting entertainment if you fall outside its intended audience. The recreation of a small Welsh town in a Hollywood studio is about as good as was possible at the time, while seeing Bette Davis heavily made up to look older and heavier is nothing short of interesting. Still, given the unsurprising, generally linear thrust of the plot, there isn’t much more to The Corn is Green than what you can gather from its log-line and production era. It’s not bad, but I’m not sure I’m going to remember it much longer.

  • The Star (1952)

    The Star (1952)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2021) The more I explore Hollywood history, the more I’m struck by the meta-textual aspect of good casting, where factors outside the confines of the fiction end up contributing to its effectiveness. For instance, you can watch The Star and appreciate, at face value, its story about a washed-up Hollywood star struggling to relaunch her career. You can watch the lead actress and the younger actress playing her daughter and think, “Hey, they’re pretty good!”  But once you’re aware of the vast tapestry of Hollywood history and learn to recognize Bette Davis and Natalie Wood, having them in the lead role gives an added dimension to the entire film — taking advantage of those two actresses’ careers spanning decades of history before and after The Star. It gets wilder once you read the film’s production history and learn that the lead character was based on Joan Crawford — and that Davis, who famously loathed Crawford, was only too eager to play a version of “her rival” rather than a character too much like her. (Davis was rewarded for her honest portrayal in an unglamorous role by an Academy Award nomination.)  As for The Star, it’s actually quite good — if you like Hollywood inner baseball, it’s a credible portrayal of an aging star who comes to grips with fame having passed her by, and it’s not quite as lacerating nor as satirical as similar treatments of the topic have been in other circumstances. But really, it’s the casting that makes the film special.

  • Pocketful of Miracles (1961)

    Pocketful of Miracles (1961)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, December 2020) I’ll go easy on remakes if the director of the original is the one remaking it, and here we have Pocketful of Miracles, Frank Capra’s remake of his own 1933 romantic comedy Lady for a Day. The story of a mob boss transforming a street vendor into a society madam for the purpose of impressing her marrying daughter remains the same, but some aspects of the film have been upgraded – the colour cinematography is easier to take in for modern audiences, and the camera has a greater degree of freedom here than in the early 1930s. The acting talent here is also quite a bit better: It’s hard to argue against Bette Davis as the Pollyannaed street vendor, and the cast (which also had Glenn Ford and then-girlfriend Hope Lange) includes an early appearance by Peter Falk and a screen debut for Ann-Margret as the vendor’s daughter. Still, it’s not hard to prefer the original version: Capra’s early enthusiasm is not reflected in the more workmanlike execution of the remake (which would end up being his last film) and the story, even as a conscious 1930s period piece, seems to fit more closely in Depression-era America than the early-1960s. This remake is also far too long for its own good at a staggering 137 minutes. Still, if that’s going to be Capra’s swan song, then it’s not a bad one: Pocketful of Miracles still manages to exhibit the writer-director’s faith in the ordinary Americans and his compassionate touch.

  • The Dark Horse (1932)

    The Dark Horse (1932)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, November 2020) As I sat down to watch The Dark Horse, a Pre-Code political comedy featuring a simpleton being groomed for high office, the United States is experiencing the last drawn-out spasm of an incompetent federal administration led by another kind of simpleton. My tolerance for fictive portraits of such people put in position of power is at an all-time low considering the excess mortality rates south of the border during a worldwide pandemic, and I wasn’t sure I was going to like the result all that much. Happily, the film often exceeded my expectations. It certainly helps that the candidate at the heart of The Dark Horse is an amiable, harmless kind of simpleton—not the kind of person you’d want as a governor, but not the kind of spiteful, destructive idiot found in reality. It also helps that the dull character is not at the centre of the film: that honour would go to a sharp politician operative dealing with grooming his charge, while also managing his ex-wife and new flame during the election period. Bette Davis co-stars as his would-be second wife, but it’s Warren Williams who grabs most of the spotlight as a genius-level political operative. Some of the script is a bit blunt and repetitive, but there are a handful of very funny moments, and a third act that keeps escalating out of control even from the protagonist’s capable mind. You can see in The Dark Horse the somewhat freewheeling attitude toward marriage and divorce that characterized many 1930s romantic comedies (something that would ironically grow even bolder after the imposition of the Code), but you will especially recognize the timeless nature of political campaigns, even despite very different tools at the disposal of campaigns. The Dark Horse thus finds a place in the very, very long list of American movies about American politics, often being far more idealistic than reality, even despite their comic cynicism.

  • Fashions of 1934 (1934)

    Fashions of 1934 (1934)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, November 2020) This may sound a bit sad to those who don’t like movies (although what’s the point in caring what these people say?) but one of the greatest things about having an encyclopedic knowledge of film and favourite actors is that you can sit down to watch a film without any idea of who’s in it, and be pleasantly surprised at who appears on screen, almost as if they were friends or something. (Look up Dunbar’s number and wonder at how many of those 150 spots are taken up by actors’ personas.) So it is that I sat down to watch Fashions of 1934 without any expectations other than this was going to be one of those solid 1930s musicals. But then William Powell and Bette Davis both walk on-screen, and you know you’re going to have a better time than expected. Now, let’s not go overboard: Fashions of 1934 is, at best, a representative film of its genre and era. It’s decently funny at times, does showcase contemporary fashions, moves briskly at 78 minutes and throws in a few kaleidoscopic dance numbers from Busby Berkeley. The musical numbers are spectacular (with a special mention to the bit in which dancers with feather fans transform themselves into a gigantic flower and then seamlessly changing into a maiden emerging from a foamy sea), the dialogue can be quite amusing and Powell is up to his usual standards. The Pre-Code nature of the film is best seen in the saucy jokes and the scantily clad dancers (oh, and mention of pornographic pictures for sale on the streets of Paris)—those would disappear months later with the imposition of the Hays Code. When you throw in all of those elements, the one thing that strikes out is Davis herself—Fashions of 1934 was so early in her career that it features a misguided attempt to make her a blonde-haired sexpot: her vivaciousness shines through what little dialogue she has, but even the film seems to forget about her for minutes at a time. The script is a bit scattershot, and it’s clear that it’s far too focused on its musical numbers—especially in its last third—to allow Powell or Davis to develop their screen persona. Still, it’s an enjoyable watch: not an essential example of its era, but a look at what Warnes Studios could do in the musical genre as a matter of everyday business. Powell and Davis are just icing on the cake even if they’re not used to their fullest extent.

  • Comet Over Broadway (1938)

    Comet Over Broadway (1938)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, November 2020) Some films make history, and others, well, not so much. I find it hilarious that about three-quarter of the narrative Wikipedia entry for Comet Over Broadway is about Bette Davis’ refusal to star in the film (leading to her infamous suspension of contract — movie history!), so slight and meaningless is the final result. As far as showbiz movies go, it’s a melodramatic blend of scarcely believable plot elements thrown in a blender in a way to make us loathe the heroine and despise the screenwriter. It has to do with an ambitious small-town girl who ends up having her husband kill someone and get sent to prison, gives her infant daughter up to another woman and then goes on to major showbiz success. Kay Francis is stuck in the lead role, all the way to an ending that means practically nothing. The film is meant to make audiences cry, but it’s so far-fetched that it can’t even sustain basic scrutiny, leading to a reaction quite unlike the one designed from the get-go. I’m usually a good and forgiving audience for showbiz films. But Comet Over Broadway doesn’t click. At best, I’ll dismiss it as a conventional weepy big on plot contrivances. But I’m not liking it.

  • Dead Ringer (1964)

    Dead Ringer (1964)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, November 2020) Amusingly enough, Bette Davis played twin characters twice during her career—first in 1946’s romantic comedy A Stolen Life, and then in 1964’s late-noir thriller Dead Ringer. Two Bette Davis for the price of one ticket? All right! This being said, the Bette Davises in Dead Ringer were more than 18 years distant from the ones in A Stolen Life—Davis aged visibly (What Happened to Baby Jane, still the best known of her later-career movies, was released two years prior to this one), and much of what she brings to her roles here is in portraying a woman on the decline, eager to secure something on her way down. That “something” here ends up being her own estranged sister’s identity, following a dark web of money, murder and unsavoury associates. The plot is best kept at arm’s length, though: the best thing here is Davis and the atmosphere of the film, and the multiple hooks to earlier eras of the film. The noir influence here is clear, but it’s mutating into something else. Directed by former Hollywood star Paul Henreid, it features the same cinematographer as A Stolen Life, improving upon the special effects to make us believe in twin Davises. It does work, and partly because it manages a good hybridization between crime thriller and romantic drama, allowing some fine character work without quite losing sight of the plot driving the entire film. I quite liked it, although I suspect that the film is best appreciated in the Hollywood continuum than as a single film—there’s quite a bit more weight to give to the film once you know about Davis and Henreid and noir and A Simple Life. Keep it in reserve after you know more, maybe—call it a 201-Hollywood history-grade film.

  • A Stolen Life (1946)

    A Stolen Life (1946)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, October 2020) All Bette Davis fans get twice as much for their money in A Stolen Life, considering that Davis here plays twins—a shy quiet artist and a gold-digging firebrand. The sisters don’t get along in the first place, but things get even worse with the shy one falls for a man, and the gold-digger moves in to steal the new guy. The film’s title finds its meaning when a horrible accident kills one sister and allows the second one to step into the other one’s life. As a romantic melodrama, it’s not bad—mostly thanks to Davis acting up a storm for two. In comparison, Glenn Ford merely does fine as the third point in this love triangle. The special effects really aren’t bad at all for a mid-1940s film. The narrative is a bit less impressive, though: Some subplots don’t go anywhere, and the ending is a drawn-out affair. Still, if you’re willing to swallow a few implausibilities, then A Stolen Life is quite entertaining. Davis apparently liked playing herself twice because she did so again twenty years later in Dead Ringer.

  • Dark Victory (1939)

    Dark Victory (1939)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, August 2020) The difference between drama and melodrama is often whether it works or not, and Dark Victory does play with highly combustible material, as it focuses on a hedonistic socialite who discovers she has roughly a year left to live. Trying to rearrange her affairs in order to exit with dignity, she discovers love, respect and acceptance. This could have gone wrong in a dozen embarrassing ways, but the big surprise here is how well it manipulates audiences and carries them willingly to a weeper of a conclusion. Dark Victory ranks high on the list of Bette Davis’s performances, and it’s not hard to see why: a lesser actress could have made the material ridiculous, but here she carries the entire film on her shoulders. It’s not just an acting performance: Davis also (says the film’s production history) pushed hard for such a tearjerker to be made in the studio system, believing that she could do justice to the material. Indeed she could, although later generations of viewers could also spot Humphrey Bogart (as a likable stable master, no less) and Ronald Reagan in small roles. Director Edmund Goulding gives Davis all the freedom she needs to nail the character, and the result speaks for itself. Yes, Dark Victory is manipulating your emotions and yes, you’ll see it coming, but it’s not melodrama if it works – it’s crowd-pleasing art.

  • The Man Who Came to Dinner (1942)

    The Man Who Came to Dinner (1942)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, June 2020) Imagine the most erudite, self-absorbed, pompous, know-it-all dinner guest imaginable. Now imagine him breaking a leg and having to stay for a few weeks. You don’t need much more than that to get the comedy play-turned-film The Man Who Came to Dinner going. Of course, it helps if you have good actors to play the parts: Monty Woolley as the titular pain-in-the-neck, Bette Davis as his assistant in an unusual comic/romantic lead, Jimmy Durante in a small but loud role, Ann Sheridan as a bombshell actress lured to break up a romance and Mary Wickes as a nurse who gets a full character arc and the film’s funniest speech as she storms out. Nominally a romantic comedy with numerous subplots but closer to a ludicrous screwball revelling in its absurdity, The Man Who Came to Dinner is a solid hit even decades later. The overlapping subplots mean that there’s quite a lot going on at once, helped along with some fast-paced dialogue. While technically a Christmastime film, it’s funny enough to be watched all year long.

  • The Letter (1940)

    The Letter (1940)

    ByChristian Sauvé Movie Review

    (On Cable TV, February 2020) If you’re looking for a defining sequence from Bette Davis’s career, you could do a lot worse than the opening moments of The Letter, in which she viciously unloads a gun into a man we don’t know yet. Explaining how we got to that point (and whether the titular letter undermines her claims of self-defence) is the bulk of the narrative, which adapts a play from W. Somerset Maugham and heads to Malaya for an exotic setting. An early film noir, The Letter is merciless in its conclusion and in describing the corruption of its protagonist. A moody atmosphere from director William Wyler completes the package. Davis is exceptional here, taking on a protagonist’s mantle with typical skill and determination. It’s easy to see why The Letter is held in high esteem today, and how it influenced the film noir subgenre in the decade that followed. I defy anyone to watch the opening scene and not go “All right, tell me more.”