Bette Davis

Now, Voyager (1942)

Now, Voyager (1942)

(On Cable TV, June 2019) One of the disadvantages of looking at a past movie star’s body of work is that the later evolution of their screen persona can unfairly prejudice some of their earlier work. When I think about Bette Davis, for instance, I’m picturing a tart-tongued anti-heroine with panache. In Now, Voyager, however, we’re asked to believe her as a timid spinster who blooms as she travels around the world and falls for a sophisticated man. I am, in other words, not entirely convinced by Davis as a romantic ingenue (although she does look cute in round glasses), and the film’s opening sequences are a wild ride as the film crams an entire film’s worth of character development in a few minutes. Still, it clears the air for more complex romantic drama in an old-school sense, with some emphasis on mental health issues. The story is not quite as happy as you’d expect from a Golden-age Hollywood movie. While Now, Voyager may not be the film you’d expect, it does get better as it goes on and builds to a wistful romantic climax with classic imagery and dialogue (“Oh, Jerry, don’t let’s ask for the moon. We have the stars.”)  No wonder it’s fondly remembered even today.

Hollywood Canteen (1944)

Hollywood Canteen (1944)

(On Cable TV, May 2019) Here’s what you need to know about Hollywood Canteen: During WW2, Hollywood celebrities got together and paid for a club in Los Angeles exclusively reserved for servicemen on leave where they could get free drinks and meals. Adding to the appeal, glamorous movie stars donated their time by actually bartending and waitressing for patrons of the place. This is all true—although accounts of the place usually underplay the considerable Pro-Hollywood publicity value in this arrangement. Further adding to the mystique is this film, not a great one but a fascinating time capsule of propagandist wish fulfillment that shows WW2 soldiers enjoying a few days in Los Angeles and spending time at the Hollywood Canteen where they get a chance to rub shoulders with movie stars. (Lost to twenty-first century audiences is the idea that when this film was shown to servicemen overseas, they could have been these guys.)  The film itself, once past the bare-bones setup, is a series of performances by Hollywood then-stars at the Canteen, effectively turning the film is a series of variety show sketches while the film’s protagonists kiss Hollywood starlets, empty sandwich trays or watch the acts with mouth agape. If some scenes make you somewhat queasy at the way the actresses are offered to soldiers for kisses, then you do have a good grasp at the hierarchy of values presented here, elevating the fighting soldier on a special pedestal. Hollywood Canteen remains both a wartime propaganda film, and a revue of who was who in Hollywood at the time—some of them featured in the movie, others referenced through dialogue. Many of the jokes are obscure now that the stars are gone—Jack Benny gets a laugh from the characters just by showing up, for instance, leaving twenty-first century audiences puzzled for a few moments. It’s fun to see some Hollywood stars in a far more relaxed environment, though—especially Bette Davis in a more comic role. The Canteen acts as a pretext, as the characters have adventures around town, our protagonist gets to romance a movie star and we tour the Warner Bros studios of the time. It’s actually quite a fun movie even with the propaganda material … but it works far better as a reminder of a bygone era.

Watch on the Rhine (1943)

Watch on the Rhine (1943)

(On Cable TV, April 2019) I have some fondness for a very specific kind of film—the cozy global thriller, in which issues of world-shattering importance are somehow brought down to a humble little set, in which conversations and a moderate amount of action end up doing the heavy lifting. Watch on the Rhine certainly shows its theatrical origins in its focused presentation, essentially becoming a living-room spy thriller in which our hero and heroine (Paul Lukas and Bette Davis, both quite good) must deal with a Nazi threat right in their house. It’s a gentle story of treason and duplicity in Washington, DC, featuring an anti-fascist protagonist facing off with a Nazi-affiliated operative. Lukas is commanding in the lead role, with some assistance from Davis. At 114 minutes, Watch on the Rhine definitely exceeds its welcome toward the end, but it remains a pretty good watch. It definitely reflected the times, though, and a Best Picture Academy Award nomination (along with a Best Actor Oscar for Lukas) reflects that the high-class approach definitely had its fans in Hollywood.

All This, and Heaven Too (1940)

All This, and Heaven Too (1940)

(On Cable TV, February 2019) There is, in many ways, something comforting in the kind of domestic costume melodrama that is All This, and Heaven Too: As the story of a French governess who ends up being at the centre of a rollicking story of lust and murder, it’s clearly meant to thrill audiences. It would have been significantly better if it had been shorter—there isn’t that much plot here, and the film clocks in at a punishing 141 minutes with plenty of repetition along the way. I’m also not entirely convinced about Bette Davis as a young innocent romantic heroine—she’s a terrific actress, but her uncanny ability to play evil characters is wasted here in a role meant to be almost angelic. The framing device isn’t too bad in allowing a Paris-based story to be literally told to an American audience, although it does add even more length to a film already overstuffed with tangents. (Including a gothic Halloween interlude that’s actually not too bad.) Even today, the expensive nature of All This, and Heaven Too’s production is obvious: the lavish sets, costumes and re-creation of late-Nineteenth century Paris is quite successful. Modern viewers will still have something to watch in between the increasingly lurid story, and Bette Davis in a strong (even if miscast) performance.

All about Eve (1950)

All about Eve (1950)

(On Cable TV, March 2018) There’s a deliciously impish quality to All about Eve that becomes apparent only a few moments in the movie, and remains the film’s best quality throughout. It’s a cynical look at showbusiness, triangulated between actors, writers and critics. Writer/director Joseph L. Mankiewicz can use rich material in his exploration of the dirty side of theatrical showbusiness, and his actors, in-between Bette Davis, Anne Baxter and George Sanders, are all up to the challenges of his vision. (Plus, a small role for Marilyn Monroe.)  All about Eve has a lot to say about fame, acting, age and even a touch of closeted homosexuality. It does so with considerable wit—the film is good throughout, but it improves sharply whenever George Sanders shows up as a waspy critic acting as an impish narrator. The film still plays exceptionally well today: showbusiness hasn’t changed much, and much of the film doesn’t deal in easily dated artifacts … although some of the social conventions have thankfully moved on. A bit like contemporary Sunset Blvd, All about Eve is a film built on wit and a great script, so it’s no surprise that it would stay so engaging sixty-five years later.

What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? (1962)

What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? (1962)

(On Cable TV, February 2018) I enjoy reading Wikipedia pages of films I’ve just seen, and from What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? I learn about the delightful expression “psycho-biddy,” a forgotten subgenre of horror thrillers featuring older women spawned by the success of this film. I also learned about the ongoing feud between co-stars Bette Davis and Joan Crawford, which does add quite a dimension to the end result as two sisters come to possibly fatal conflict in a film presented as hard-edged thriller. Saddled with two useless prologues, What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? really gets going fifteen minutes in, as the situation becomes clear: A disabled former actress, practically held hostage by her sister, a bitter and resentful former child star who escalates the horrible actions required to keep control over the situation. Joan Crawford has the likable role, but it’s Bette Davis who sticks in mind as the psychotic Baby Jane, layers of caked makeup not concealing a complete breakdown. The black-and-white cinematography is pretty good, although the ending is one or two whiskers away from satisfaction. The film feels a bit too long and scattered with half-hearted subplots, but it still has an impact—Fifty-five years later, aged actresses seldom get roles as interesting as those in What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?, and the plot is still nasty enough to resonate even today.