Author: Snugglecub

1940 – Martha Scott

Our Town

This was a good movie, and Martha Scott’s performance was good.  I don’t know if I’d call it an award-worthy performance, but I think she did the roll justice.  She played the part of Emily Webb, an ordinary girl in an ordinary town, in an ordinary life.  And that was really the point of the entire film, which brought the Pulitzer Prize-winning stage play of the same name to the big screen.  The actress had to play the character at various ages, ranging from childhood to adulthood, and finally to death at a still young age.

But that ordinary quality was really the point of the whole film, and the actors had the task of being as ordinary as possible.  The characters could be anybody and everybody.  The script, penned by Thornton Wilder, had done such an impressive job of capturing that every-man and woman in each character.  The entire cast did a fine job of portraying that, but that’s just the problem.  I’m not seeing how Scott did any better than any of the other big names in the roll call.  Other well-established actors like Thomas Mitchell, Fay Bainter, Guy Kibbee, Beulah Bondi, and William Holden seemed to have just as much screen time, and they all played their parts just as well, the only difference being that Emily was the focus of act two.

Now, I’ll admit, that isn’t the actress’s fault.  But as I often say, an Academy nomination should be a combination of a good script and a good actor.  This script just didn’t seem to lend itself to that kind of recognition.  On rare occasion, an actor can transcend that blanket statement, elevating a mediocre character to a great one with an outstanding performance, but I don’t believe this is represented here.

Did Martha Scott do a bad job?  No, absolutely not.  She did a fine job.  But was her performance better than other women in 1940?  Was she better than her cast-mates?  Did she deserve an Academy Award nomination?  I don’t really think so, since I’m not sure I’d even call her character a lead in this ensemble piece.  Her lead status was barely more than a simple plot device in the third act.  Not only that, but the movie undercut the impact of her character, making the entire death sequence out to be only a dream, not her actual death.  Bad choice, if you ask me.

1940 – Bette Davis

The Letter

Here we are again with Miss Davis.  This is Best Actress Nomination number five, proving that she was still Hollywood’s golden girl.  The audiences and the critics loved her and it was easy to see why.  She looked good, and she could act.  The only problem is that, while she did a good job, I don’t see how her performance here was better than any of her past performances.  In fact, she has a type that she typically plays, and she does it well, but this roll didn’t require to stretch herself as an actor.  And the thing is, I have seen other films in which she has starred where she has shown us she is capable of better.

So as I am thinking through this, my disappointment isn’t that Davis did a poor job, but the role itself just didn’t seem to merit the attention.  She played a woman who murders a man, shooting him to death, and then lying about her motives, making it seem like self-defense.  But as it turns out, it was certainly nothing of the sort.  It was a crime of passion.  She was having an affair with him, and murdered him in a jealous rage.  The plot is about how her story crumbles with the appearance of a letter that disproves all her lies.

For the most part, Davis played the character of Leslie Crosbie as a cold blooded woman, as comfortable with lies as she is with the truth.  It is only when her lies are revealed that she loses her composure and spills her guts.  But her defense lawyer, after learning the truth, buries the evidence and sways the jury to pronounce her innocent.  The only real emotional breakdown she has is when her husband offers to forgive her so they can put her affair behind them and move on with their marriage.  But she can’t do it.  She is still in love with the man she killed.

Her guilt is enough to make her resolutely go to her murdered lover’s widow and allow herself to be stabbed to death in atonement for her crime.  At least that satisfied the Hayes code that required all sinful character in every film to receive proper punishment before the end credits.  But aside from that one breakdown scene, her acting just seemed a little like… business as usual.  I didn’t feel like the role required that much of her.  Let’s just say I’m glad she didn’t win this Oscar.

1940 – Ginger Rogers

Kitty Foyle

So, Ginger Rogers took home the Oscar for Best Actress.  Did she do a good job?  Yes, she really did.  But I have to wonder if the Oscar was awarded to the movie and the role, and the actress was just along for the ride – a little.  In this case, the character may have outshined the actress.  Don’t miss-understand.  I’m not saying the award wasn’t deserved.  I think she did just as well as the other actresses in the category, but Kitty Foyle was a movie and a character that had a great deal of social significance in 1940, and that might have had more to do with her win than her accomplished performance.

It was a daring role.  A strong, independent woman who gets pregnant out of wedlock, and decides to keep the baby and raise it herself, as a single mother.  A real woman in such a situation was considered shameful at best, lacking in morals at worst.  There was a negative stigma attached to un-wed mothers that was often not deserved.  But Rogers played Kitty Foyle as a heroine, a champion of-sorts, for all single mothers.  Never-mind that the baby died during the birth.  The point is, that had the child lived, she was determined to raise it without the help, financial or otherwise, of any man. 

But when I separate the actress from the character, I somehow feel a bit ambiguous.  She did a good enough job, and I don’t begrudge her the Oscar she earned.  But there were a few scenes in which her acting felt a little forced, like she was trying to portray a character that wasn’t completely natural to her.  It was like a girl from New Jersey trying to make people believe she is from New Hampshire.  Most of the time she’s fine, but once in a while, her façade slips a tiny bit, because she seems to be trying too hard to be convincing.

Still, Rogers did a fine job of portraying the wide range of emotions necessary for the part.  She could be love-struck, jaded, aroused, bitter, excited, cautious, or resigned.  Whatever a scene required.  She even had to play a teenager for one scene, and was believable enough.  And she was particularly good in the scene where she learns that her baby has died.  So, sure, give her the Oscar.  Why not?

1940 – Katharine Hepburn

The Philadelphia Story

For me, this is classic Hepburn.  In fact, if I really think about it, I believe this is the first Hepburn film I ever watched, way back when I was a child.  It is a rom-com, and for the most part it has a light-hearted, silly story, but there is a bit of light drama thrown into the mix.  And Hepburn is really the one who shoulders the few serious moments this movie has.  True, the drama never got too intense, but I think she handled it well.

She plays the part of Tracy Lord, a girl from a wealthy family who is spoken of by those around her as a goddess, a queen, and therein lies that bit of drama I mentioned.  She has such a high and haughty nature, that she holds everyone around her, friends, enemies, and her family to a standard of personality so lofty that nobody can live up to her expectations.  And she even holds herself to that standard even more strictly than she does others.  She is supposed to be like a statue: beautiful and perfect, but without emotions like compassion, empathy, or to a certain extent, love.  And eventually those she cares for begin to call her out for her haughty superior attitude.  But not to worry.  It never gets too deep.  Just a few tears that threaten to fall, but never really do.

Hepburn was perfectly cast.  She had that face, that posture, that demeanor that, on the surface, seemed to embody those qualities.  And it makes the inevitable moment when her walls crumble and she comes down from her tower, beautiful.  Her emotions blossom and she gives into love.  One minute she could be cold and aloof, then smiling and warm, and finally, angry and acerbic a moment later.  She was wonderful, bringing out whatever was needed from one minute to the next.  And not only that, she was gorgeous and effusively charming.  She was exactly what was required.  And she had the ability to keep up with the quick and wit and dialogue of the intelligent script.  The wordy banter and fast comebacks rolled off her tongue just as easily as it did for her co-stars, and that’s saying something, as she shared the screen with other powerhouses like James Stewart and Cary Grant.  I can absolutely see why she was nominated for Best Actress for the performance.

1940 – Joan Fontaine

Rebecca

The first time I saw this movie, I didn’t think Joan Fontaine did a very good job.  I thought the aggressively shy personality was too heavy-handed.  But the more times I see the film, the more I realize the exact opposite.  The real clue is in the name of her character, or rather the lack of a name.  She is never actually given one.  She is nobody but the woman who lives in the shadow of the infamous Rebecca.  Even in the credits, she is only referred to as the Second Mrs. de Winter.

She is supposed to be a terminally shy woman who allows herself to be manipulated by nearly every other character in the story.  She has almost no personality of her own, outside of her social ineptness and timidity.  How does someone portray that effectively?  Fontaine had to find that fine line between a woman with severe social anxiety and one with enough confidence to fall in love with and marry the wealthy Maxim, and take on the role of the Lady of Mandalay. 

And the more I think about it, the more I see how incredible a performance Fontaine turned in.  Just look at the difference between the character at the beginning of the movie and the woman she becomes at the end.  The difference is both pronounced and yet subtle at the same time.  It is really remarkable.  The former was perpetually nervous and the latter had a newly budding confidence.  A lesser actress might not have been able to pull that off effectively, but Fontaine did the part justice, and I think her nomination was very much deserved.

Not only that, but this was essentially a psychological thriller.  Her interactions with Judith Anderson as Mrs. Danvers was a big part of that.  There was one powerful scene that sticks in my memory.  In it, Mrs. Danvers tries to get her to commit suicide by throwing herself from a window.  It is easy to focus on Anderson’s performance in that scene, but Fontaine was really incredible, too.  The look on her face, the tears, her body language, all make the viewer begin to question whether she would actually do it.  There was a moment when you think she might really kill herself.  And the relief on her face when the moment was broken was perfect.  And that was all Fontaine.  She really gave us an amazing performance.