Tudo Isto e o Céu Também

This excellent period drama is based on a popular novel of 1939 by Rachel Field. It told a version of the story of the murder, in Paris in 1847, of Fanny Sebastiani Choiseul-Praslin, Duchesse and wife of Theobald, Duc de Choiseul-Praslin. Fanny was the daughter of Marachal Horace Sebastiani, one of the leading political and social figures in the July Monarchy or Orleans Monarchy of France, under King Louis Phillippe (1830 - 1848). This was a middle-class supported monarchy, and was far more liberal than it's predecessor monarchy under King Louis's cousins the Bourbons. But by 1847 it had grown corrupt, and it was suffering a series a serious scandals. The murder of Duchesse Fanny by her husband was the last real blow. Supposedly the marriage had collapsed due to the growing relationship between Theobald and the children's governess, Mlle. Helene Deluzy-Desportes. The actual relationship between the governess and the Duc remains questioned, although most believe she was his lover. Rachel Field, a descendant of Fanny and her later husband, Rev. Martyn Field, presented the governess as the victim of circumstances (working in a household that was falling apart). Finally, whatever the cause, Theobald beat Fanny to death, and tried to make it look like a burglar did it. Instead the Surete was not fooled, and Theobald was arrested. But while under arrest he took poison, and he died denying his guilt and denying the involvement of the governess. Fanny came to America, where she taught school and married into the Field family (her brother-in-law Cyrus was a financier who laid the Atlantic Cable, and her brother-in-law Stephen was an Associate Justice on the U.S. Supreme Court). As for the French, they blamed the government for allowing the Duc to escape justice, and within a year the July Monarchy was overthrown. Marachel Sebastiani (Montague Love in the film) died prematurely in 1851 - the last victim of the crime.

The film, except for the pro-Deluzy-Desportes slant, is excellent with a fine, restrained performance by Davis, an intense one by Boyer (who finally explodes in one scene where he shows his thorough hatred for his wife), and a marvelous performance by Barbara O'Neill as Fanny. I would thoroughly recommend this one for movie fans - a fine example of the best of Warner's historical films.

Based upon the popular 1937 novel written by Henriette Duluzy Desporte's grandneice, one Rachel Field, this movie was a prime vehicle for Bette Davis. This was considered Warners big "prestige" picture for 194O, and it shows: no expense in the production costs were spared, it's an exceptionally finely crafted motion picture. Based upon factual incidents, the story tells of how the notorious 1847 murder of the Dutchess (played with venomous relish by the tall & stately Barbara O'Neil) made Henriette the most notoriously suspicious and despised woman in Europe for a time. Originally, O'Neil's interpretation of the horrendously neurotic Dutchess was played looking a disheveled, unkempt mess physically. The producers thought her appearance would be a bit too uncooth for viewers to endure, but that decision robbed O'Neil of a far more effective characterization. As Henriette, Davis is much more subdued than normal, and her performance is genuinely affecting: another victorious portrait added to her quickly growing gallery of unforgettable heroines and vixens. Charles Boyer is fine as the Duc; he and Davis have a most interesting, classy chemistry between them. The children include Richard Nichols (as the adorable Raynald), Virginia Weidler and June Lockhart. Anatole Litvak's direction keeps this 14O minute saga flowing: the result is a handsome period piece which is done in old Hollywood's best style.

If you're looking for a chain-smoking, scenery-chewing Bette Davis, this is not the movie for you. First of all, she's sweet and kind, soft-spoken and rather docile. A great change-of-pace for the legendary actress. She has excellent chemistry with her leading man, Charles Boyer, (in their only film together). Barbara O'Neil, (who the year before had played Scarlett O'Hara's mother in "Gone With The Wind") is the nasty character in this one. (Her performance is good, but those false eyelashes that she wears are distracting! Max Steiner's musical score was never better.

"All This and Heaven, Too," is a soap opera, but of the best kind. It tells an adult story in a genuinely moving way. The involved viewer will have cried several times before the final fade-out; the movie earns its tears, and then some.

Its best features include:

Bette Davis' performance. Before this I knew she was a spectacular entertainer; now I know she can act. She is subtle and yet tremendously powerful. Her eyes, her dignified intelligence, and her self-restraint speak volumes. No camp here, just the telegraphing of quiet power.

Charles Boyer. Boyer was a man of substance; he served his country in World Wars I and II, studied philosophy at the Sorbonne, and stayed married to the same woman for over forty years. Again, as with Davis, he is restrained, as the narrative demands, but his substance telegraphs out of his body, his forced, tragic smiles, his stiff mien suddenly breaking into fitful efforts at frivolity, the quiet endurance with which he, at first, suffers his hated wife.

Barbara O'Neil is unforgettable as the Duchess de Praslin. O'Neil was the model of noble womanhood as Scarlett O'hara's mother; here she casts her decorum aside, after, first, shredding it to bits. I think I'll never be able to watch her in GWTW again without cracking up. Every Gothic Romance, including this one, requires a Hoyden - Rochester's mad wife, "Rebecca's" Mrs. Danvers. O'Neil chews them all to bits and spits them out. Even her false eyelashes appear as weapons, able to eviscerate her husband and her hated governess.

The supporting cast is no less superb. June Lockhart is a believably loving daughter; Harry Davenport, utterly un-French, is a wonderful, prophetic Pierre who warns Bette Davis and the viewer that when they enter the house of the Duke and Duchess, they enter Hell, and all hope should be abandoned.

Even the nasty girl who taunts Bette Davis at the opening of the film could not have been better cast.

Though black and white, the film reveals its high production values; it is rich and varied and offers the eye a sumptuous feast of fabrics, surfaces, and shadows. You won't miss color here at all.

I am torn about the plot, trying to decide if the movie wanted to make me, the viewer, experience the Duke as a weak man who allowed Mlle D, Bette Davis, to be exposed to so much social and emotional danger. I'd welcome others' thoughts on this question. In his apparent weakness, the Duke reminded me of the Paul Henreid, "Jerry" character in "Now Voyager," another married man who loved, and failed, a Bette Davis character.

Director Anatole Litvak does an exceedingly good job with this romantic period piece, as do each of the actors involved. Bette Davis plays Henriette Deluzy-Desportes, a governess in 19th Century France, who lands a position working for Theo, Duc De Praslin (Charles Boyer) and his family. The childern adore the new, spirited governess, but Boyer's psycho bitch wife, the Duchesse (Barbara O'Neil), is resentful of Henriette's intrusion into the family. The new addition to the family works her magic on everyone but the Duchesse. Theo and Henriette, predictably, begin to fall in love, which further complicates things, sending the crazy wife into even more rages of insanity. All of this builds momentum until a climactic crime of passion takes a life.

Davis is a kick to watch as she struts her stuff with an excellent French accent. Boyer is awesome in this dark, brooding, but romantic role. And O'Neil deservedly got an Oscar-nomination for her role, full of anger and energy. But the real stand-out, interestingly enough, is Richard Nicols as Boyer's so-adorable-you-just-wanna-squeeze-him son Reynald.

Overall, this dark, dreary film is a highly-satisfying experience, slightly off-put by the preachy, silly final scene in the classroom.