"Dark Victory" was a huge success for Bette Davis; the "women's picture" was entering its golden age, and the public ate it up, while the critics (who most often scoffed at such material) were unusually kind and lavished every acting superlative upon Davis. She was nominated for yet another Best Actress Oscar, and probably would have won, had she not been pitted against Vivien Leigh in "Gone with the Wind."
However, Davis' performance is not nearly as controlled as it might have been. The director, Eddie Goulding, had a very good rapport with the star, but was hardly a rough taskmaster like William Wyler, who wrangled with Davis, cursed her out, and forced her to reign in her nervous quirks: the eye popping, the twitching walk, the flailing arms and hands. Under Goulding's direction, Davis gives a good performance, but not the great one many have claimed she did.
SPOILERS TO FOLLOW
Judith Tremaine (Davis) is a high-flying Long Island playgirl, concerned primarily with her horses, cocktails, and her sodden group of rich brat friends. The only voice of reason is her best friend, Ann (Geraldine Fitzgerald), who acts as both Judith's conscience and a Greek chorus in the film. Judith's eyesight, exacerbated by blinding headaches, has grown increasingly poor, deteriorating to the point that she is thrown from her prize stallion because she has double vision as she approaches a jump. Sufficiently shaken by this accident, Judith grudgingly agrees to visit neurosurgeon Dr. Steele (George Grent). Outwardly scornful and dismissive, Judith is actually very frightened, and Steele's quiet, authorative manner finally brings her to admit that her health has been in a downslide for some time. Steele diagnoses her with an incurable brain cancer, but he and Ann keep the truth from Judith--so that she may live a happy, unfettered life. Judith and Steele fall in love, and Judith seems to be on the path to a fulfilled life--she is no longer wrapped up in the superficialities of her socialite existance. However, Judith soon learns of her terminal condition, and lashes out at Steele, accusing him of wanting to marry her only out of pity. Choked with self-pity and rage, Judith embarks on a binge of drinking and partying, but, of course, comes back to Steele, so that she may live her final months on earth with dignity, and someone who truly loves her. Judith and Steele marry, move to Maine, and lead a happy, simple life. He works tirelessly at advances in neurology, while she devotes herself to enjoying life to the fullest--not through drink, but by sharing her life with someone. Ann comes for a visit just as Steele is called away to a medical conference; at that moment, Judith experiences a dimming of her vision--the telltale sign that her death is imminent. Determined to end her life with dignity and without hurting those she loves, she sends Ann away, manages to hide her blindness from Steele even as she "helps" him pack for his trip, bids him farewell, then climbs the stairs to her bedroom, where she peacefully and contentedly nears death as Max Steiner's score and an angelic choir soar behind her.
Whew! Certainly, the plot was ripe for overdramatics, but handled properly, similar material could be done compellingly and with a minimum of corn (see Davis' own "Now, Voyager"). This is not a bad movie, by any means, but some of the scenes play very poorly indeed. Watching the increasingly blind Judith pack Steele's bags and then grope her way down the steps invariably induces this writer to giggles. (On the other hand, Judith's actual death scene, as mawkish as it sounds on paper, plays exceedingly well--choir or not.) Davis is wonderful in some scenes, and then completely over-the-top in others, giving her performance a somewhat off-kilter feel.
The script, considering that it was written in 1939, has the right idea: Judith becomes insolent and self-pitying when she learns of her illness, not noble and self-sacrificing. Even after her "reform" and marriage to Steele, Judith is thankfully not written as a latter-day saint. Also adding immeasurably is Geraldine Fitzgerald's marvelous portrayal of Ann; her cool, elegant beauty and wonderful speaking voice are perfect for the character. Her tearful (but not maudlin) reactions to Judith's illness, negative prognosis, and death also effectively relieve the Judith character from having to similarly be awash in tears--a very wise move.
"Dark Victory" is quite a good film, extremely well-produced, and smartly scripted. However, it might have been a truly towering achievement, had stronger direction been applied to Davis. Unquestionably, Miss Davis was one of the greatest actresses in film history, but it is also undeniable that without a strong presence at the helm, she was prone to overplaying. That is why her portrait of Judith Tremaine just misses greatness.
However, Davis' performance is not nearly as controlled as it might have been. The director, Eddie Goulding, had a very good rapport with the star, but was hardly a rough taskmaster like William Wyler, who wrangled with Davis, cursed her out, and forced her to reign in her nervous quirks: the eye popping, the twitching walk, the flailing arms and hands. Under Goulding's direction, Davis gives a good performance, but not the great one many have claimed she did.
SPOILERS TO FOLLOW
Judith Tremaine (Davis) is a high-flying Long Island playgirl, concerned primarily with her horses, cocktails, and her sodden group of rich brat friends. The only voice of reason is her best friend, Ann (Geraldine Fitzgerald), who acts as both Judith's conscience and a Greek chorus in the film. Judith's eyesight, exacerbated by blinding headaches, has grown increasingly poor, deteriorating to the point that she is thrown from her prize stallion because she has double vision as she approaches a jump. Sufficiently shaken by this accident, Judith grudgingly agrees to visit neurosurgeon Dr. Steele (George Grent). Outwardly scornful and dismissive, Judith is actually very frightened, and Steele's quiet, authorative manner finally brings her to admit that her health has been in a downslide for some time. Steele diagnoses her with an incurable brain cancer, but he and Ann keep the truth from Judith--so that she may live a happy, unfettered life. Judith and Steele fall in love, and Judith seems to be on the path to a fulfilled life--she is no longer wrapped up in the superficialities of her socialite existance. However, Judith soon learns of her terminal condition, and lashes out at Steele, accusing him of wanting to marry her only out of pity. Choked with self-pity and rage, Judith embarks on a binge of drinking and partying, but, of course, comes back to Steele, so that she may live her final months on earth with dignity, and someone who truly loves her. Judith and Steele marry, move to Maine, and lead a happy, simple life. He works tirelessly at advances in neurology, while she devotes herself to enjoying life to the fullest--not through drink, but by sharing her life with someone. Ann comes for a visit just as Steele is called away to a medical conference; at that moment, Judith experiences a dimming of her vision--the telltale sign that her death is imminent. Determined to end her life with dignity and without hurting those she loves, she sends Ann away, manages to hide her blindness from Steele even as she "helps" him pack for his trip, bids him farewell, then climbs the stairs to her bedroom, where she peacefully and contentedly nears death as Max Steiner's score and an angelic choir soar behind her.
Whew! Certainly, the plot was ripe for overdramatics, but handled properly, similar material could be done compellingly and with a minimum of corn (see Davis' own "Now, Voyager"). This is not a bad movie, by any means, but some of the scenes play very poorly indeed. Watching the increasingly blind Judith pack Steele's bags and then grope her way down the steps invariably induces this writer to giggles. (On the other hand, Judith's actual death scene, as mawkish as it sounds on paper, plays exceedingly well--choir or not.) Davis is wonderful in some scenes, and then completely over-the-top in others, giving her performance a somewhat off-kilter feel.
The script, considering that it was written in 1939, has the right idea: Judith becomes insolent and self-pitying when she learns of her illness, not noble and self-sacrificing. Even after her "reform" and marriage to Steele, Judith is thankfully not written as a latter-day saint. Also adding immeasurably is Geraldine Fitzgerald's marvelous portrayal of Ann; her cool, elegant beauty and wonderful speaking voice are perfect for the character. Her tearful (but not maudlin) reactions to Judith's illness, negative prognosis, and death also effectively relieve the Judith character from having to similarly be awash in tears--a very wise move.
"Dark Victory" is quite a good film, extremely well-produced, and smartly scripted. However, it might have been a truly towering achievement, had stronger direction been applied to Davis. Unquestionably, Miss Davis was one of the greatest actresses in film history, but it is also undeniable that without a strong presence at the helm, she was prone to overplaying. That is why her portrait of Judith Tremaine just misses greatness.