Category: Best Supporting Actress

1937 – Claire Trevor

Dead End

This review is going to be a little tricky to write.  After all, what is there to say?  She only had about four-and-a-half minutes of screen time.  She played Francey, the childhood sweetheart of notorious gangster, Baby-Face Martin.  He returns to the slum to find her and ask her to get back together with him, now that he is ready to go straight.  She refuses because now she’s a prostitute in the terminal stages of syphilis. 

Trevor didn’t have much to work with, but I think she did a great job anyway.  In less than five minutes, we got her back story, her memories, and her emotions.  We got her situation as a down and out woman who hates her life, one in which she feels trapped.  She knows she is sick and dying, and she knows she is powerless to do anything to help herself.  I really liked the way we are introduced to her when she makes her first appearance.  She displays a thick skin, roughened by the hard life of a hooker.  And yet despite her callous attitude, she has the integrity to tell her old flame the truth when he asks her to be with him.  She turns him down and steps into the light so he can see her illness. 

And then, when Baby-Face learns of her disease, he immediately rejects her.  Trevor portrayed the shame, the hurt, and the hopeless resignation so believably.  And when the gangster gives her money, she isn’t too proud to beg for more.  He refuses her again, and still, she isn’t done.  Before turning and walking away, she pathetically asks for a kiss on the cheek for old time’s sake.  When Baby-Face can barely bring himself to even do that, her disappointment is just heart-wrenching.

Her performance was brief but memorable.  I believe she deserved her Oscar nomination, even if she was like a footnote in the narrative, though an important one.  Trevor really made me feel for her character, an impressive feat in so little time.  And she was gorgeous.  So I looked up what else she has been in. Turns out, she was in nearly 70 films over the course of her career that lasted from 1933 to 1987.  The ones for which she was the most remembered were Dead End, Stagecoach in 1939, Key Largo in 1948, and The High and the Mighty in 1954. 

1937 – Alice Brady

In Old Chicago

For the second year in a row, Alice Brady was nominated for Best Supporting Actress.  In 1936, she was nominated for her role in the film My Man Godfrey. There, she played a flighty rich socialite.  Here, she played the complete opposite, an Irish widow, mother of three boys.  Here she had to maintain an Irish accent, and before I go any further, I’m going to give her a ton of respect for pulling that off beautifully.  The accent was consistent and believable.  So, right off the bat, she has my respect for that, as accents are never easy.

But the accent was just part of the character, which Brady really embodied perfectly.  Did she play a bit of a stereotype?  In retrospect, maybe, but she did it so well that I didn’t really notice.  She was hard-working, and religious to the point of piousness, ready with whatever any situation required, whether it was a scolding or a smile, a tear or a mug of beer.  Brady, and the way the character was written, made Molly O’Leary a strong and compassionate woman who held the respect and love of her family.

According to the narrative of the film’s fictional plot, which was based around the reality of the great Chicago fire of 1871, it was Molly’s cow who accidentally started the fire, though it was Molly, herself, who thoughtlessly left a lamp in the barn behind the leg of a cow who was known to kick.  When the fire breaks out, Molly does her best to keep her family safe.  The only time in the film when the character is shown to let her emotions lead her into a bad decision, is when she leaves her daughter-in-law and infant grandson alone in a rampaging crowd of people fleeing the fire, so that she can retrieve a framed picture of her late husband.

Brady did a fantastic job in the role and I think she deserved her Oscar.  She played a strong female character without making her mean or even dour.  She made Molly O’Leary a likeable woman, the kind of woman anyone would want to know.  And it was she who gave the last minute inspirational speech at the end of the film about the people of Chicago being a strong lot who would rebuild the great city from the ashes.  No doubt, that monologue went a fair way to getting her the Oscar win.

1937 – Anne Shirley

Stella Dallas

One of the things that Hollywood seems to have a talent for is casting the perfect people in their movies, and this was certainly the case when it came to Stella Dallas.  Anne Shirley played the sweet young daughter of the crass and tawdry Stella.  She had that fresh-faced young girl, right at the age where she is becoming a woman, enhanced by expert hair and makeup to help sell the illusion of age.

And there was also a bit of emotional complexity to the role of Laurel Dallas that was rather unique.  The story arc of her character was not conventional.  She had a strange relationship with her mother, a parent who she loved, and yet by whom she was embarrassed at the same time.  And when she began spending time with her father and his new love interest, she began to learn just what kind of a woman Stella was.  Shirley deftly portrayed Laurel’s guilt over enjoying that easy and privileged existence, rather than the constant chaos of being in her mother’s orbit.

There were several scenes where Shirley’s acting stood out as exceptional.  There was the pivotal scene in the train where the girl and her mother overhear the gossipers making fun of Stella, and feeling sorry for the sweet Laurel for having to live with her.  And there was the scene where Stella actively drives Laurel away into the arms of another mother who can give her a life free of a stained reputation.  It was heartbreaking to see Laurel’s realization that she had to leave the mother she loved in order to find happiness in a new home.

Like I said, it was a complex character, but it was a smart script that gave us two wonderfully written parts for two fantastic actresses.  She was like an eager little ingénue, who looked completely at ease in front of the camera.  She was not afraid to put her emotions out where they could be seen, and young though she was, she was able to hold her own along-side a powerhouse like Barbara Stanwyck. I found myself wondering what else she has done.  She was only 4 years old when she started acting and was 18 when she played Laurel Dallas.  And she made her final film appearance when she was only 26.  The article I read didn’t state why she stopped acting, but it too bad she did, because she was very talented.

1937 – Mae Whitty

Night Must Fall

Dame Mae Whitty was perfectly cast as the cranky old rich lady.  She had a natural air of privilege and entitlement about her that was unmistakable.  She was self-righteous, cantankerous, and mean spirited, everything that the character of Mrs. Bramson was supposed to be.  She was so perfectly annoying to watch on the screen, which only tells me that Mae Whitty, the actress did her job well.  But she wasn’t so over-the-top that she wasn’t believable.  The way I see it, there was a fine line between being the character, and being a caricature, and I could easily see a lesser actress crossing that line. 

Mrs. Bramson was a wealthy property owner in the small English village who lorded her status and position over everyone.  She expected everyone to always defer to her because it was her right.  But she consistently used her age and her money to manipulate and control everyone around her.  She was bound to a wheelchair, and masterfully played the sympathy card at every opportunity.  I’m old.  I’m infirm.  Take care of me.  Please me.  Ugh!  And I wasn’t a bit surprised when she was alone, and got up out of her chair without the slightest bit of difficulty.

But she was an integral part of the plot and Whitty’s performance was good.  But notice that I don’t say she was great.  It’s too bad that Mrs. Bramson was written as a bit of a one note character, which wasn’t Whitty’s fault.  The only part of the movie in which Whitty was able to show some real acting chops was right before her character, spoiler alert, was murdered.  She was alone in the house, something she wasn’t used to.  She became genuinely frightened.  I liked the way the actress drew me into her fear.  When Danny came in the room, her sense of relief and pent-up fear was perfectly portrayed.  The way her hands trembled as she drank a glass of water was spot-on.

And honestly, I think it was her last few minutes of screen time that really earned her the award nomination.  She was wonderful.  She was good in the rest of the film, but great in that final sequence.  The trick is, she was so perfect for this role, I just can’t picture her playing anything else, though I’m sure she frequently did.

1936 – Maria Ouspenskaya

Dodsworth

OK, this is a bit of a tricky one because Maria Ouspenskaya had such a small supporting role.  She had a total screen time of about five and a half minutes.  She played a Grand Dame with a very commanding presence.  Her part was small but powerful, and Ouspenskaya played it for all it was worth.  She seemed to demand attention, which was exactly what the character needed. 

She played the Baroness Von Obersdorf, the regal and controlling mother of Fran Dodsworth’s lover and fiancée, Kurt.  She thoroughly disapproved of her son’s rash engagement to Fran, and she had, in my opinion, good reasons for her refusal to allow the marriage.  There is a movie trope about the very old being very wise, by virtue of their long years of experience, and the character of the Baroness embodied this perfectly.  From the second she appeared on the screen, she was clearly in complete control of the situation.  Ouspenskaya was perfectly cast.

The way she portrayed the Baroness, she made it obvious that she saw through every one of Fran’s deceptions and even her self-delusions, and she told her in no uncertain terms that she would not allow her son to enter into a marriage with a woman who was too old to give him children.  And furthermore, she knew what the result would be of a young man marrying a woman who is too many years his senior.  Even when Fran threw her out, it was clear that the Baroness was leaving by choice, having said all she intended to say on the matter. 

So this just goes to prove that it isn’t the size of a part that makes it a good one.  I would venture to say that it is about twenty percent how the character is written, and eighty percent how the character is played.  The Russian-born actress was about sixty years old when this film came out, and it is interesting to note that this was the first of her Hollywood film roles.  I remember seeing her as the grandmother in Love affair, in 1939, and as Madam Von Eln in King’s Row in 1942.  She was always good.  But now, after looking at her short Hollywood filmography, I would be curious to see her in films like 1941’s The Wolf Man, and 1945’s Tarzan and the Amazons, where she played the Amazon Queen. 

1936 – Beulah Bondi

The Gorgeous Hussy

This can often be a difficult category to navigate, to critique.  The characters, by definition, didn’t get the spotlight much.  They didn’t have much screen-time to work with.  And often-times they aren’t even pivotal to the overall plot of the movie.  But here, Bondi played Rachel Jackson, wife of Andrew Jackson, the seventh president of the United States. I’m happy to say she was a definite plot point.  A lot of what Jackson did was because of his wife, the way she was treated by the public, and his simple yet steadfast love for her.

She had that down-to-earth wisdom that elderly country folk are often known for.  She was calm and caring, sweet and demure.  Sure, she smoked a pipe like a crass bumpkin, but that was only frowned upon by Andrew’s political opponents.  And when she died, she seemed to exert more influence over her husband than when she was alive.  That is what Bondi had to work with, and I’d say she did the part justice.  At that time, it was generally the role of women to stay in the background, keep out of sight.  But that was probably difficult to do as the First Lady of the country.  Bondi really did a fine job with that dichotomy.

First, she really looked the part.  She had that sweet grandmotherly visage, but also enough sternness to scold her husband on his manners and low-born speaking.  She knew when to smile and when to be serious.  And she really shined in her final scene, where she tells the gorgeous hussy, Peg, played by Joan Crawford, that she knows she is dying, and the gentle tenderness she displayed was remarkable.  She asked Peg to care for Andy, who would surely need her in the coming years.  The scene was beautifully played.  There was a fatigue in her eyes that really sold the moment perfectly.  It was as good as a death scene, though not so immediate.

Bondi had a small role, but she played it well and I think she deserved her Oscar nomination.  What she gave us wasn’t too little, but neither was it too much.  It was just the right mixture of the frailty of age, and the strength of her position as the wife of the most powerful man in the nation.  But she lost to Gale Sondergaard in Anthony Adverse.  Yeah, I can see that.

1936 – Gale Sondergaard

Anthony Adverse

I’ll admit, I’ve only seen a handful of films in which Gale Sondergaard appeared.  But every one of those movies had her in the role of a villainess.  But darn it, she did it so well!  She had that face that was sexy, sly, sultry, and slightly malicious, all at the same time.  As a matter of fact, in my research, I learned that Sondergaard was originally cast as the Wicked Witch of the West in The 1939 version of The Wizard of Oz, but she pulled out of the project when the decision was made to make the witch ugly instead of beautiful.

Here, she plays the part of Faith Paleolgus, the maid and presumptive heir of kindly Mr. Bonnyfeather.  But when the young Anthony shows up, and she recognizes him as Bonnyfeather’s grandson, she waits for the opportunity to get rid of him so that she can inherit her employer’s fortune.  Failing at that, she ends up working with, and eventually blackmailing the evil Marquis Don Luis, wonderfully played by the incomparable Claude Rains, into taking her as his wife.

Sondergaard had a way of playing the bad guy with a sly smile that told the audience that she was perfectly aware of how wicked she was being.  She even smiled when Anthony called her out for her manipulations that caused him such hardship.  In several scenes, she was just there, lurking in the background, like a spider waiting for her prey to fly into her web. 

Through her performance, I saw in her eyes a bit of thrill at the prospect of stealing Anthony’s inheritance, of hiding Anthony’s true identity from Don Luis, and also disappointment when her murderous scheme failed to kill Anthony in the mountains on the road to France.  And there was even real fear in those eyes the moment Anthony appears at Casa de Bonnyfeather after five years in Africa.  Gale pulled it all off admirably, and looked good doing it. 

And finally, I have to mention her final scene in the film, in which all the lies have been revealed.  When she greets Anthony at the opera, her acid smile lets us know that she has that one more secret up her sleeve, making her wicked to the end. 

1936 – Bonita Granville

These Three

Wow.  Given half a chance, I might have voted for this young lady.  She did fantastic job, and really ed us what a wonderful little actress she was.  She played the part of Mary Tilford, the worst spoiled little brat to ever hit the big screen.  She was just awful!  You could practically see the devil horns on her head.  Granville really played the part with energy and commitment.  I imagine working with child actors must be difficult, but rarely are they this good.

Mary Tilford was the child with no siblings who always got her own way.  She lived with her rich grandmother who always believed everything she said without questioning anything.  As a result, she was a habitual liar, a bully to her classmates, and remorseless terror to adults.  She complained about being mistreated by the nicest people, and threw fantastic tantrums when they didn’t believe her lies.  There was crying, kicking, screaming, and thrashing about.  And to reinforce her web of life-destroying lies, she physically and mentally tortures her poor classmate into corroborating her falsehoods.

And then, in the end, when her lies are finally exposed, and the grumpy old maid, played by the Wicked Witch of the West, Margaret Hamilton, no less, slaps her across the face, the look of incredulity and terror in her eyes is priceless.  Granville really sold the character, and yet, her performance wasn’t so over-the-top that she overshadowed the three leads of the film.  The character was written to be explosive and horrible.  It was part of the plot, but Granville did it with a small air of restraint which, to her credit, made the character even more believable.

One of the most horrifying scenes of the film was when she went to her classmate, Rosalie, and demanded that she hand over her all her money.  When Rosalie refused, the little hellion attacked her and twisted her arm behind her back.  In another scene, she made Rosalie swear to be her vassal and to obey her every demand, or else she would tattle about Rosalie’s little indiscretion of thievery, screaming that the police would come and take her away to prison for the rest of her life.  Such a terrifying little bully!  Beautifully done, Granville.