Bette Davis Brilliantly Runs the Gamut in Mr. Skeffington

 

Providing an ideal example of how entertaining a star vehicle from the Studio System’s Golden Age could be, Warner Brothers’ engrossing 1944 hit Mr. Skeffington allows a peak Bette Davis to emote with great vivacity and skill, while also providing costar Claude Rains yet another rich opportunity to justify his place among the greatest character actors ever. Director Vincent Sherman also shows impressive flair in helming the proceedings, keeping the episodic, 145-minute narrative covering several decades, starting at the outset of WWI up until the present day, moving along with inspired pacing that adeptly switches between the comedic and dramatic aspects of the terrific screenplay by Julius and Philip Epstein (based on the 1940 novel by “Elizabeth,” aka Elizabeth Von Arnim) without allowing the overall tone of the piece to become jarring. Opulent set and costume designs (by Fred Maclean and Orry-Kelly, respectively) and a florid Franz Waxman/Paul Dessau score also mark this Mr. as a first-class “A” production, and aid in drawing the audience into a most captivating, satisfying viewing experience.

Bette Davis was in her tenth year as a top star, after her striking breakthrough as the spiteful, magnetic Mildred in Of Human Bondage, and was largely considered the screen’s leading dramatic actress by 1944. In Mr. Skeffington Davis lives up to this assessment. The poster’s tagline declared “Bette Davis at her very greatest,” and for once the hype doesn’t seem hyperbolic, based on Davis’ dazzling work in the movie. Portraying the vain-yet-beguiling Fanny Skeffington, considered one of the great beauties of her generation and well-aware of this asset, Davis gives a performance unlike anything else she ever did. The star was in the midst of a phenomenal run, in the process building a loyal following playing a series of tough, independent, and sometimes devious women in a slew of hits (Dark Victory, The Letter, The Little Foxes and Oscars for Dangerous and Jezebel among them), but in Mr. Skeffington she thrives in an entirely different manner, while losing none of her uniquely riveting screen presence. Raising her voice an octave and using those hypnotic eyes to display Fanny’s wide-eyed innocence regardless of the passing years, Davis allows what could be an egotistical, abrasive character to come across as charming and sweet, but never saccharine as, in Davis’ hands, Fanny’s naivety is clearly mixed with a strong will, making it believable Fanny could lure countless suitors over a 30-year period, while maintaining the loyalty of the title character throughout as she deftly handles any obstacle that threatens to disrupt her role as the loveliest figure in New York society.

It’s great to see Davis allowed to play in a lighter mode than usual during most of the film, while remaining as emotionally compelling as ever; also, aided by ace cinematographer Ernest Haller, makeup maestro Perc Westmore and some truly elaborate hairstyles by Maggie Donovan, the often-deglamorized-on-film star is refreshingly made up to appear her loveliest during much of the film, as suits Fanny’s beatific character. Davis’ ample and virtuoso acting talent is also on full display, resulting in viewers eagerly following each of Fanny’s whims without ever tiring of her sometimes selfish and vapid demeanor, as Davis skillfully illustrates Fanny doesn’t have a mean bone in her body, therefore making it easy for one to want Fanny to gain any motive she seeks. Also, due to Fanny’s general kind deportment Davis so expertly conveys, when the dramatic moments come, such as Fanny learning of a death in the family, or the ending between Fanny and her husband, they hit with incredible force. Sure, it’s enthralling to see Davis putting over a scene with gusto in her trademark “Bitch Mode” (check out 1942’s amazing melodrama In This Are Life for several wonderful examples of this), but one feels a different level of emotional involvement when the extraordinarily likable Fanny faces hardship and breaks down, resulting in some of the most mesmerizing and moving moments found in a Davis film. It’s a rare performance and, with the star instilling the role with all her formative thespian skills and energy, one that any Davis fan or movie-lover should place on their “Must Watch” list.

Claude Rains was also witnessing a peak period of popularity during the mid-1940’s, after following his memorable film debut in 1933’s The Invisible Man with, among many other significant roles, adroit acting and Oscar nominations for Mr. Smith Goes to Washington and the all-timer, Casablanca, as well as excellent work alongside Davis in 1942’s ultra-romantic Now, Voyager and a lead in the previous year’s The Phantom of the Opera. As the title character, Job Skeffington, Rains fully depicts the aptly named character’s patient, compassionate nature that prove to be guiding forces in his ongoing devotion to the coquettish, inattentive Fanny, whose roving eye seldom lands on Job. Rains’ uses his melodious-but-commanding voice and, as Fanny refers to them, “puppy dog eyes” to paint a sensitive portrait of a man unable to break free emotionally from Fanny’s charms, even when he experiences full exasperation over the knowledge that she doesn’t return his affections. Due to Rains’ acute playing, the viewer is with Job all the way, hoping he will somehow obtain a happy ending with Fanny by the film’s final fadeout.

The stalwart supporting cast does an exceptional job in keeping pace with the dynamic Davis and Rains. Walter Abel possibly makes the strongest impact as Fanny’s loyal cousin George, investing the role with warmth and humor, specifically making George’s bemusement over Fanny’s constant flirtatious manner an endearing trait that helps the audience fully identify with George and, as seen through George’s perceptive eyes, Fanny. Richard Warning intriguingly imbues both stoicism and vexation into his role as Fanny’s beloved-yet-wayward brother Trippy, while John Alexander, Bill Kennedy, Peter Whitney and irreplaceable Warner Brothers’ staple Jerome Cowan provide effective comic relief as a batch of suitors who never tire of waiting on and for Fanny over the years. Rounding out the formidable cast, George Coulouris also scores as the direct psychiatrist who cuts right through any pretense Fanny throws his way, while young Sylvia Arslan shares a touching scene with Rains as the neglected daughter desperate to stay with Job during her formative years.

Mr. Skeffington proved yet another major success for Warners and Davis, allowing her to return to the top ten box-office stars (according to the annual Quigley Publications poll for 1944) and eventually gaining richly deserved Oscar nominations for Davis and Rains. First-rate production values, expert direction and dedicated, unforgettable work by two stars at the top of their game assures Mr. Skeffington a place among the most diverting films of its era, fully earning status as a cinema classic guaranteed to entrance fans of the “Woman’s Pictures” genre the film is often ascribed to, as well as any other audience member looking for a marvelous viewing experience.

P.S. After many years of mulling over how to approach it, I recently completed a tribute via YouTube to Ms. Davis’ remarkable career, which includes clips from Mr. Skeffington and forty other Davis films. The video can be viewed here.

And a fond farewell to Harry Belafonte, who recently passed away at 96. The legendary performer gained great success as one of the leading recording artists of his generation, with his 1956 album Calypso logging an astounding 31 weeks at #1 (according to Billboard), while also, along with friend Sidney Poitier, who was born just nine days before Belafonte in 1927, doing much to establish the African American male as a major presence in Hollywood films. Although his output onscreen wasn’t as prolific as Poitier’s, which is understandable given Belafonte’s other activities as one of the major musical stars and activists of his time, he established himself as a serene, vibrantly charismatic and handsome figure in several major films, including his debut alongside Dorothy Dandridge in 1953’s Bright Road, Carmen Jones, the 1957 smash hit Island in the Sun (with its beautifully-sung-by-Belafonte title song), one of the first major Hollywood films to attempt to address interracial romance, and 1959’s entertaining one-two punch of Odds Against Tomorrow and the intriguing apocalypse drama The World, the Flesh and the Devil. Belafonte went on to successfully costar with Poitier in the 1970’s in Buck and the Preacher and Uptown Saturday Night, then in his later years scored a New York Film Critic’s Award for indelible work in Robert Altman’s Kansas City, before ending his screen work on a high note in Spike Lee’s 2018’s BlacKkKlansman. Belafonte’s substantial, highly individual talents and admirable progressive efforts to make the world more enlightened as a leading figure in the Civil Rights movement will be sorely missed; may he R.I.P.  I created a video tribute here honoring the screen efforts of a singular talent.