Tramonto

It's easy to see why Bette Davis admired "Dark Victory" more so than any of her other star-vehicles--her Judith Traherne is the quintessential Bette Davis character: smart, sassy, nervously gay, a drinking pal to the guys and a best buddy to the girls. Traherne is without malice, a real chum, and Davis plays her with fluttery vitriol and upper-crust glee. Long Island society girl, ailing but still strong, falls wildly in love with her doctor...but how can he tell her that she has very little time left to live? The supporting cast is made up of some odd personalities: Geraldine Fitzgerald's dedicated girlfriend seems to have no life outside of Judith's world (and performs her gal-pal duties with a curious severity); Humphrey Bogart is an Irish stable-hand with a secret crush on Judith (she's tempted, but ultimately conveys to him the old 'don't touch' message); Ronald Reagan is a country club type, always in a tuxedo and at the bar; George Brent is the brilliant surgeon who loves Judith (but he's faster with his fists than he is with words). Based on a play by George Emerson Brewer, Jr. and Bertram Bloch (which had starred Tallulah Bankhead), this chatty Warner Bros. weeper is glossy and flossy, a dithering, overstated, swooning romantic mini-epic for masochists. In other words, the archetypal Bette Davis film. *** from ****

I was probably 12 years old when I first saw this film on TV. It was shown in two parts and I didn't get to see the second part, so my mother had to tell me what happened.

Forty years later, I still cry every time I see "Dark Victory." It remains one of my favorite films for sheer use of Kleenex and my favorite Bette Davis movie, "All About Eve" being right up there with it. I even saw it on the big screen in a revival house when I was in college.

Yes, some of the dialogue sounds corny now, like the good doctor saying, "Women never meant anything to me before". But the interesting thing is, when I did see it with an audience, though they laughed as some inappropriate spots, by the end you could hear the sobs on the next block.

There have been comments that Humphrey Bogart seems miscast in a somewhat minor role. I frankly thought he was just fine. He certainly was short enough to be a jockey and he pulled off the brogue.

I'm sure it's confusing for some to see him in such a small role in 1939 when only a few years later, he was a total superstar. But he was under contract to Warners and kicked around for years before "High Sierra" and "Casablanca".

He obviously wasn't working when "Dark Victory" was cast, so why let him sit around taking a salary and do nothing?

And of course we have Ronald Reagan as a playboy. I actually find him delightful in this film. It called for charm and he had it.

In today's fast-paced world, there's nothing stronger than a message about time and our use of it. "Oh, give me time for tenderness...just give me time."

Like Bette's character, I want to hear that song again too, in many more viewings of "Dark Victory."

Bette Davis always cited this as her favourite role: it is probably on a par with Margo Channing in ALL ABOUT EVE as the part which fans identify with as definitive Davis. Naturally, this 1939 film will look a little musty, corny and cliched to modern day viewers, but the poignant sincerity in which Davis instilled via her magnificent performance still has the ability to leave the viewer in helpless tears: you can be dumbfounded to think that something so obviously aimed at your tear ducts could succeed to induce the flow so completely and spontaneously! The role is based upon a 1934 play in which Tallulah Bankhead flopped. The character of Ann King was written especially for the film by director Edmund Goulding: as a kind of Greek Chorus so Judith wouldn't have to complain about the inevitable. Geraldine Fitzgerald, in her American film debut, does a wondrous job with the part of Ann: a beautifully etched supporting performance. As Michael O'Leary, Humphrey Bogart is unfortunately inept in the Irish brogue department (why couldn't they have simply cut out the accent?) and George Brent is adequately wooden as Dr. Frederick Steele whom Judy marries. Davis slams through a gooey collection of cliches in her nerviest style during the early segments but her metamorphasis into a vibrantly humbled married woman is quite a striking contrast to the selfishly brazen spoiled heiress: truly a multi-faceted performance. Ronald Reagan gets to play Alec, one of Judy's drunken swains, and Cora Witherspoon is memorable as the snotty Carrie. The last twenty minutes of the film are expertly crafted and timelessly tear-jerking: the movie sold more kleenex than any other of its day.

This is definitely a tear-jerker involving a young socialite Judith Traherne, (Betty Davis) who is full of life and an only child who gets her own way all the time, but is well liked by everyone. Judith loves horses and enjoys riding them and performing with them in various horse shows. The trainer of these horses is Michael O'Leary, (Humphrey Bogart) who loves his work and likes Judith because of her love for animals. One day Judith is riding her horse and her vision becomes blurred and she sees double and falls off the horse. It seems Judy is having bad headaches but does not mention it to anyone and her own doctor refers her to a Dr. Frederick Steele, (George Brent) who is a brain surgeon. Ronald Reagan appears in this film as a playboy drunk who is always drinking. Great performance by all the actors, but bring the tissue box, you will need it.

By today's standards, "Dark Victory" might seem cliched. Of course, that could be because it was so greatly copied! Here is Bette Davis, a star in the fullness of her talent and ability. Bette simply shines; she owns this film from first frame to last. Ably supported by a wonderful cast (including a somewhat mis-matched Humphrey Bogart as an Irish-brogued horse trainer), it is still difficult to watch the film and not be constantly anticipating Bette's appearance in any scene she isn't in. The ending, even in those days, might have turned out either wimpy or waspish. In Bette's hands, it is neither. It works in a way that literally drains one of emotions. I might also add that, while revealing only a bare back, Bette shows more sensuality than a dozen of today's more "open" actresses.

There is an old disparaging adage about "showing the full gamut from a to b," in this movie Bette not only shows A to Z, but some letters that haven't been invented yet.

Despite my gushing over Ms. Davis, the film is solid in all departments. If you wish to experience when melodrama is great movie-making, see this film.