RICK'S REAL/REEL LIFE: Joan Leslie

Showing posts with label Joan Leslie. Show all posts

Friday, March 22, 2024

The Two Faces of Joan Fontaine: ‘Born to Be Bad’ 1950

(L) Joan Fontaine as conniver Christabel in 1950's "Born to Be Bad."
(R) Carol Burnett from her TV show, spoofed this noir soap as "Raised to Be Rotten!"

By the end of "Born to Be Bad," everyone wants to strangle Christabel, even herself!

Born to Be Bad is a film noir soap opera that toys with Joan Fontaine's on-screen persona. In the role referenced in the title, Joan's seemingly demure miss recalls the cinematic bouquet of shy English roses that Fontaine played in the '40s. Here, this rose reveals her thorns, as the poor relation who’s a two-faced schemer. Fontaine's memoir was titled No Bed of Roses, ironic since a Bad character sneeringly refers to her schemer’s life in a rich marriage as such. Fontaine was also known off-screen for her sharp-tongued wit. On-screen, her characters were usually soft, wide-eyed, one brow raised, with a Mona Lisa smile.

Christabel Caine comes to San Fran! "Born to Be Bad's" Joan Fontaine with her
go-to expression, the arched eyebrow, slight smile, and "Who, me?" expression!

As conniving Christabel Caine, Joan and director Nicholas Ray use the Fontaine image very cleverly. As other movie fans have noted, Christabel's tactics are much like the same year's passive/aggressive villain, Eve Harrington, in 1950’s All About Eve. Fontaine's acting style is also similar to Anne Baxter’s, but much more dialed down. There's the same raised eyebrow, deer in the headlights looks, and lowered voice, but Baxter often went big! They even have the same severe curled bob that was mysteriously popular post-war. Christabel wants a rich husband and Eve wants to be a star, and anyone in the way gets steamrollered.

Christabel seems to be the bad seed, an orphan raised by a meek relative. She leaves her Aunt Clara in Santa Flora and moves up to San Francisco to go to business school, and live with career girl Donna, who works for Christabel’s uncle. At first, family and friends are taken by the poor "girl"—it’s amusing to think of over-30 Fontaine’s goal to be a secretary. Not to mention the poor relation arrives with a gaggle of Hattie Carnegie dresses, swanned throughout Born to Be Bad!

Joan Fontaine's Christabel feigns innocence in 1950's "Born to Be Bad."

Joan Fontaine plays the part in perfect studio era style. The demure diva smirks as the supposedly sophisticated city folk fall for her manipulations. Or the left eyebrow that gets an aerobic workout every time Christabel gets away with her latest scheme. While Joan Fontaine was naturally pretty, it's an eye roll that men are falling all over her or that she's so charismatic that others are blinded by her blatant insincerity. The film’s posters describe Christabel as man-bait and a female savage! Rita Hayworth or Vivien Leigh, she ain’t. The spinster bob, plus a series of shoulderless gowns that accentuate her slightly hunched posture and modest bosom don’t help at all, either.

"Born to Be Bad" hardly lives up to the poster's captions or depicted cup size of Joan!

As Donna, Joan Leslie is natural and surprisingly holds her own. Just 25 at the time, and while no Janet Leigh or Eva Marie Saint, Leslie's playing is straightforward and strong.

Joan Leslie's Donna realizes that scheming Christabel is "Born to Be Bad!

As the men in Christabel's life, there's Mel Ferrer as Gabriel Broome, the young artist who paints her portrait. Nicknamed “Gobby,” he’s more of a frenemy, and some film fans think he was a coded gay character. No wonder he didn’t fall prey to this perilous mantrap! Then there's Robert Ryan, well-cast as rugged author Nick Bradley, who sees through Christabel but can't help but be captivated by her alleged charms. I loved it when Ryan’s Nick declares he won’t be the vixen’s “backstreet boy!” Another staple of this era's type of film is the "smart" dialogue that comes off campy. And Ferrer and Ryan get the best/worst of the cheesy zingers, usually directed at that devil in disguise, Christabel.

A young Mel Ferrer plays a glib, gay young artist in 1950's "Born to Be Bad."

Robert Ryan is the rugged writer who charms himself & Joan Fontaine
in 1950's "Born to Be Bad."

Zachary Scott, at home in a tux or ascot, is the millionaire in 1950's "Born to Be Bad."

Zachary Scott played many characters who were either charmers, creeps, or both. Remember him as the cad Monty in Mildred Pierce? As Donna's rich fiancé Curtis Carey, he's sympathetic, but falls for Christabel's conniving. In the 90 minute film, Donna's out and Christabel is in by the half way mark! But, she still hankers for that rough-hewn Ryan. Natch, Christabel overplays her hand and soon enough gets caught and tossed out on her ear. Donna and the millionaire are reunited, natch. And Christabel contentedly drives off with a carload of furs.

Carol Burnett as "Christinabelle" in her takeoff of "Born to Be Bad," called
"Raised to Be Rotten!" With Harvey Korman, so good at spoofing Scott's rich guys.

Carol Burnett was famed for her television show’s film takeoffs and she lampooned this type of film perfectly. Here, Born to Be Bad is called Raised to Be Rotten. Carol kicks it up a few notches, playing crafty "Christinabelle!" By the end of the skit, she’s a pickpocket to everyone along the way out. Burnett's spoof cleverly skewers every time Christinabelle and the rugged writer go into a clinch, she swoops into his arms, and the music swells. Or when guest star Richard Crenna as Ryan's writer tells Christinabelle to shorten her name! Carol's got Joan's arched eyebrows and smirk down pat and her bad girl aptly tells Crenna’s bad boy to “take your cheap repartee and get out!” This parody is so close to the bone it reminds me of Carol’s take off of Joan Crawford’s Torch Song.

One thing that makes me laugh about Robert Ryan's rugged artsy type is his proclamations about Christabel as a woman. It reminds me of Dane Clark as the opinionated artist giving Bette Davis guff in A Stolen Life or Steven Boyd's editor to new girl Hope Lange in The Best of Everything. The gist of which is generally: "You know what your problem is? You're afraid of being a real woman!" And their characters surely had a solution for what ailed the leading ladies’ “problem.”

"Read any good books lately?" Joan Fontaine's schemer is feeling Zachary Scott
but looking at Robert Ryan, in 1950's "Born to Be Bad."

Born to Be Bad is one of those post-war film noir soaps that served as showcases for its leading lady. Monster hit Mildred Pierce in '45 was surely the inspiration. Joan Crawford herself did a series of such films in the late '40s through the '50s, as did many established female stars. The formula was the film diva was either a woman in jeopardy or a scheming vixen. The latter usually afforded a film fashion show for the star. The supporting cast was usually a bevy of leading men who were knocked over like bowling pins by the star's feminine wiles. Any women in the movies, while usually younger than the star diva, were no competition. Even if the star's character paid for her sins at the finale, she had a lot of fun along the way. And so it is with Born to Be Bad. Enjoy!

Here’s the film that mixed film noir and soap opera, brought Joan Crawford back and created a subgenre for strong female stars. My look at Mildred Pierce: https://ricksrealreel.blogspot.com/2020/03/how-joan-crawford-became-mildred-pierce.html

"Portrait of Joanie?" Mel Ferrer's artist creates this masterpiece
of Joan Fontaine's charismatic schemer in 1950's "Born to Be Bad."

Sunday, April 19, 2020

Jane Russell in Fine Form as ‘Mamie Stover’ 1956

Richard Egan & Jane Russell teamed for "The Revolt of Mamie Stover."

Jane Russell became a redhead as tart with a heart 'Mamie Stover.'

Away from Howard Hughes’ RKO, Jane Russell usually fared better, with more focus on her acting than her more obvious attributes. At Fox, The Revolt of Mamie Stover ’56 film was very toned down from the novel. Still, material girl Mamie fits Jane like one of her Travilla-designed gowns.

At the movie's opening, brunette Russell gives her famed sneer before leaving San Francisco.

The movie Mamie is the “lite” version of the novel. William Bradford Huie wrote unvarnished looks at WWII and post-war American life, including The Americanization of Emily. On the page, Mamie Stover is a most pragmatic prostitute. She’s been battered in Hollywood and books to Honolulu. In Mamie Stover, the movie, she’s been busted by the cops (no specifics) and they are escorting her out of San Francisco.

The novel's revolt was far more overt.

Mamie meets Jim Blair, a writer who likes and doesn’t judge her. While they have a shipboard romance, they’re realistic. He has a steady fiancée; her finances are a mess. So, Mamie heads to work for Bertha, bar/dancehall proprietor. Bertha’s a taskmaster, with draconian rules for the “girls,” which leads Mamie to break a few, natch. Despite missteps, Mamie’s making a mint, but her romance with Egan doesn’t progress. And it’s not because Mamie is a “hostess” or that he already has a girlfriend, but because Jim thinks she’s a mercenary.

In the Huie novel, Stover’s a steamroller, defiantly breaking rules, bringing in big bucks, and later buying out the madam, while snapping up real estate. The movie Mamie does the same, but it’s way watered down, like the drinks at her bar.

A blonde Agnes Moorehead and Michael Pate are the madam and her enforcer.

At Mamie’s finish, she parts ways with Bill, and gives away all her money. Mamie travels through San Fran on the way back home to Mississippi. A far cry from the literary Mamie, but at least she didn’t die for her sins, as typical of the movie era.

Beach scenes were big after 'From Here to Eternity,' and with Egan & Russell's fine forms, a must!

In the opening scenes, Jane is her usual brash brunette. Once she works at the club, Russell goes Rita Hayworth red. And Jane looks great, softer. This also draws comparisons to Rita’s then-recent take on Sadie Thompson, literature’s infamous shady lady. What’s refreshing about Mamie Stover, is that there’s no judging in director Raoul Walsh’s storytelling, especially given the censorship code. Much like the recent From Here to Eternity, the brothel becomes a dancehall/bar, where soldiers can “fraternize” with the “hostesses.” Back then, audiences were good at reading between the lines.

Put the blame on Mamie! Designer Travilla does Jane.

Russell was not an emotionally fluid actress like other bombshells, such as Sophia or Marilyn. But Jane’s good natured humor and straightforward performing is a plus. This suits Mamie Stover’s character quite well.

Richard Egan is strong enough to hold his own against Jane, as Jim Blair. Egan’s rugged features, blue eyes, big smile, imposing body, and that resonant voice were his calling card. His mellow nature and laid-back humor makes him a compatible pairing with Russell.

Agnes Moorehead, as Bertha, goes from her usual redhead to blonde! She’s brittle as always, but Agnes’ madam eventually treats Mamie as an equal. Australian actor Michael Pate makes a menacing “enforcer” for Bertha. Poor Joan Leslie, whose career collapsed after leaving WB, has nothing to do as the patient fiancee.

Jane Russell & Richard Egan make a handsome pair, and don't you love his car?!

The solid team of Russell and Egan and great Hawaiian locations are pleasant to watch, and even with the streamlined story, Mamie is a moderately entertaining movie.

FYI: I put all the movie overflow on my public FB movie page.

Check it out & join! https://www.facebook.com/groups/178488909366865/

Tuesday, September 5, 2017

'The Hard Way': Marvelous WB Melodrama 1943

Ida Lupino & Joan Leslie: "Lord help the sister that comes between me and my man!"

FYI: I put all the movie overflow on my public FB movie page.

Check it out & join! https://www.facebook.com/groups/178488909366865/

I watched The Hard Way, a 1943 Warner Bros. showbiz saga, for the first time recently. Starring Ida Lupino, the Vincent Sherman-directed drama is a surprisingly tough film for Hollywood’s golden era. Perhaps that hardness is why it's not as well remembered as Mildred Pierce or other “women's pictures.”

De-glamourized WB dolls Lupino and Leslie plotting their way out of poverty.

The opening flashback scenes are gritty and authentic. “Greenhill” is a stand-in for every USA Midwestern industrial town. No MGM version of poor folk at working class WB in The Hard Way. As sisters Helen and Katie, Ida Lupino and Joan Leslie are make-up free and dressed-down dowdy in the film’s early scenes. Helen’s harried husband Jack is a decent man, burnt out as a miner, with no patience for their dreams of better things. Guess how long he’s in the picture?

Jack Carson and Dennis Morgan, teamed for the first time here, are travelling entertainers Albert Runkel and Paul Collins. Carson’s Albert comes off nearly as green as starry-eyed Katie, while Morgan’s Paul is the slick-talking player. Albert is taken both by Katie both professionally and personally; Collins does not want any souvenirs from their tour stops. This time, however, the easy-going Runkel prevails. Katie, with older sis Helen as manager, joins their act. And that’s when The Hard Way truly earns its title.

The film’s framing of the successful but suicidal woman's tale, told in flashback, was later lifted by Mildred Pierce. The older woman, who projects her ambitions onto the younger woman, is also echoed in Pierce. The Hard Way, based on a short story by Irwin Shaw, came out the same year as the James M. Cain novel, Mildred Pierce.

Ida Lupino is fierce as Helen, a working class woman who claws her way up.

WB queen bee Bette Davis turned down the role of Helen, which she later regretted. As Lupino was a decade younger than Davis, this was better casting, since Bette was 17 years older than Joan Leslie. If the roles were mother-daughter, Davis or especially, Joan Crawford, would have been great as the grasping Helen. Storywise, it might have made sense if they had, since it was rumored that the characters were based on Ginger Rogers and her legendarily scary stage mother, Lela. Ida Lupino and Joan Leslie were well-suited for the roles. Both came from theatrical families, so they were familiar with stage life. Lupino’s family had roots in theatre that dated back centuries. Leslie, starting as a child, was part of a vaudeville sister act. Joan sang, danced, did impersonations, and even played the accordion.

As the ruthless stage sister, Ida Lupino is just as no-holds-barred as Bette Davis at her best. But during the war years, the Academy Awards seemed to prefer uplift. Much was made of the fact that Lupino got a New York Film Critics Circle award but no Oscar nomination. Considering that perennial WB nominee Davis didn’t make the cut that year for her hits, Old Acquaintance or Watch on the Rhine, Lupino should have been a shoo-in. However, that year's Oscars lauded Jennifer Jones, Greer Garson, and Ingrid Bergman, all starring in glossy uplift: The Song of Bernadette, Madame Curie, and For Whom the Bells Toll. Joan Fontaine and Jennifer Jones, both in their mid-20s, played dreamy-eyed 14-year-olds in Bernadette and The Constant Nymph. (Jean Arthur’s comedic The More the Merrier was the fifth nominee). No room for Ida's gritty, unsentimental performance in this group!

Joan Leslie was only 17 when she played Katie, from schoolgirl to great star.

Usually ingénues who played sweet in Hollywood’s golden age were gooey. Joan Leslie is warm and sympathetic, a dramatic contrast to Ida’ Lupino’s lone wolf sister. Noteworthy too, in these showbiz sagas, a starlet is usually played by a well-established star. I recently commented on this, in the various A Star is Born remakes, where the rising stars Gaynor, Garland, Streisand, and Lady Gaga are already in their early 30s. Watching teenager Joan Leslie blossom into a star is striking, especially as Leslie starts going all Lindsay Lohan, rebelling against Lupino’s controlling character.

The Hard Way also features one of Jack Carson's great dramatic performances. In his serious roles, Carson had a laughing on the outside, crying on the inside quality. In The Hard Way, Mildred Pierce, 1954’s A Star is Born, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, and The Tarnished Angels, Carson is both funny and sad. Carson’s suicide scene, after his character is given the brush-off by his now-bride Leslie, is both genuinely shocking and moving.

The climb to the top leaves a few casualties along the way. Dennis Morgan, Joan Leslie, & Lupino.
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As the ladies man turned one-woman man, this is one of Dennis Morgan's better acting efforts. Harboring a secret crush on Katie, Paul gradually becomes more vocal in his feelings toward her, and in his disdain for hell-on-wheels Helen. One of The Hard Way’s most striking scenes is when Lupino’s Helen lets down her guard and admits her own attraction to Morgan’s Paul. He sarcastically flings his standard pick-up line at her, causing hard-bitten Helen to revert to her stone-cold self.

Gladys George is great as a boozy star egged on by Lupino.

Gladys George has a great cameo as washed up stage star Lily Emery. George has only a few scenes, but she runs the gamut as the drunken diva mowed over by Helen, who offers up starlet sister Katie in her place.

Though The Hard Way has a following for Lupino’s performance, I've noticed certain critics and film fans still knock this movie. Specifically, the criticism is directed at the hardness of Lupino’s character/performance and Joan Leslie's perceived lack of talent.

I think Lupino is fantastic in The Hard Way, but this criticism may tie in with my question: Why didn’t Ida Lupino become a bigger star? She seemed lovely, charismatic, talented, intense, and more. But was Lupino a little too real, rather than larger than life, like Crawford and Davis? Was Lupino to Davis akin to Robert Mitchum when compared to Bogart? Excellent, yet earthbound, rather than mythic? Lupino had Davis’ intensity, but perhaps needed a few hits playing sympathetic roles, like Bette’s Now Voyager and The Great Lie. And Ida’s hard-boiled persona didn’t get the redeeming soft side that Crawford’s hard-edged characters usually did. The Hard Way is like Mildred Pierce, but without the mother love gloss.

Lupino as Helen, now a successful starmaker.

I think Ida’s second best status to Bette couldn’t have helped matters. The big problem perhaps was that Jack Warner seldom did well by his actors. Bette became the studio’s top female star—and film fans know what a battle Davis pitched to get good roles. Also, top star Barbara Stanwyck had a part-time contract with Warner Bros. Then, along came Joan Crawford, making a comeback from MGM. So, popular leading ladies Lupino, Olivia de Havilland, Jane Wyman, and Ann Sheridan were first up for the leftovers. And WB mostly wasted the next tier of younger actresses like Eleanor Parker, Alexis Smith, Lauren Bacall, Patricia Neal, Janis Paige, Dorothy Malone, etc.

So, here’s my shout-out for Joan Leslie, an actress I only knew by name until recently. Detractors of The Hard Way have labeled Leslie as a no-talent. Well, she ain't Judy Garland, but she's a decent musical performer and her acting is just fine. What armchair internet critics don’t realize is that one, Leslie was only 17 here, and second, Joan actually was a popular vaudeville performer. What seems corny today was entertaining back in the day. Think of the more typical musical stars of the time—Ginger Rogers, Eleanor Powell, Ruby Keeler, etc. Or even great Broadway legends like Ethel Merman, Mary Martin, or Carol Channing. They were hugely popular, but not versatile talents. (Yes, I know I’m opening a can of worms here!) What I found most striking about Leslie’s Katie was her vulnerable, appealing performance, with hints of steeliness as she soars to stardom.

Joan Leslie, as Katie, now a star.

Off-screen, Joan Leslie showed some steel, too. Leslie was the third actress to sue Jack Warner in a contract dispute. Bette Davis famously sued Warner Bros. in 1936 to get out of her contract—over bad roles. Davis lost the battle, but won the war, finally getting great parts. Olivia de Havilland sued Warner Bros. in 1944, for having suspensions from turning down roles added on to her contract. Olivia won, and though she didn’t work for two years, soon won two Oscars as an independent actress. Joan Leslie also won her suit with Warner, citing that she was a minor when she signed her contract. However, despite her popularity, her status as a starlet instantly ended. Like Olivia, Leslie claimed Warner blackballed her with other studios. Not unlikely, since Jack Warner was notoriously petty. Yet another popular starlet, Teresa Wright, more trained and versatile, and seven years older, found her expiration date as ingénue was also1946. Wright’s star swiftly diminished after The Best Years of Our Lives.

Looking back at Leslie’s film credits, it’s easy to see why Joan was getting fed up with WB. Joan Leslie started off with such films as High Sierra with Bogart, Sergeant York with Gary Cooper, Yankee Doodle Dandy with Cagney, followed by The Sky’s The Limit with Fred Astaire, The Hard Way with Ida Lupino, and The Male Animal with Olivia de Havilland and Henry Fonda. But by 1946, she was stuck playing characters in frothy comedies with names like Judy Jones and Sally Sawyer. Still in ‘46’s Two Guys from Milwaukee, teamed with Hard Way co-stars Morgan and Carson, Leslie’s appeal was still intact.

When writing movie reviews, I am often reminded of how often film stars, particularly from the golden era, seldom got happy endings off-screen. Well, Joan Leslie did. In 1950, Leslie married a doctor, and had twin daughters. She became a full-time wife and mother, and a part-time actress. Joan enjoyed a 50 year marriage and was proud of her daughters, who became college instructors. Joan Leslie lived to be 90, passing away in 2015.

Jack Carson only has eyes for Leslie. Lupino keeps an eye on Carson!

Vincent Sherman, whose tour of duty as a Warner Bros. director included wrangling Bette Davis and Joan Crawford, considered The Hard Way his most personal work. Sherman felt the story, on the toll that climbing the ladder of fame takes, was a cautionary tale. Viewers of The Hard Way find it either strong stuff or a bitter pill—I think it’s a great example of studio era filmmaking, with both style and substance.

Ida Lupino and Joan Leslie give their personal best in 'The Hard Way.'