Tax Day: All Around Suckage

It's tax time again here in the States. Yes, April 15th, the day souls are crushed, dreams are shattered and fortunes lost. But don't worry, you're not alone. For instance...

There's the tax pigs. If they grew that much between 1940 and 1951, imagine how big they are now. My God, they must be monstrous!

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Then there's this lady with her son looking at the long form at the Federal Building in this pic from April 15th, 1958. She slaps her hand to her face, "Oy vey," she thinks, but just look at that crowd behind her. Major suckage going on there!

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But don't worry Long Form Lady because even the stars have problems. Why it's Bette Davis in tax court in 1951. She sets an example to all of us by smiling even as Uncle Sam's lawyers are mere minutes away from reducing her pathetic lawyer to smoldering doggy poo. See, here's the thing, they're the IRS, and if they say you owe, YOU OWE! Period! Up yours Hollywood Star! Time to pay up!

HAPPY TAX DAY EVERYONE!

Bette Does Her Civic Duty

Here's a picture of Bette Davis speaking at the dedication of the Rodger Young Village, a public housing project in Los Angeles for veterans, on April 27, 1946. Rodger Young won the Medal of Honor posthumously after allowing his platoon to escape unscathed from enemy fire from a machine gun nest by relentlessly advancing on it, drawing all fire to himself. Here's the link to his heroic story on the Army's Medal of Honor website.

Rodger Young is also known to Robert Heinlein fans as the name of one of the ships in Starship Troopers, which Heinlein named after the Medal of Honor recipient.

The project, consisting of Quonset huts, was dismantled around 1955.

She's Got Bette Davis Sockets

... and Robert Stitchum always knows how to cut up a crowd. He leaves 'em in stitches every time.

Bette Davis at 100: The Courage to be Wrong

Bette Davis on April 5, 1941, the occasion of her 33rd birthday.

Many of you (or at least some) may have noticed I don't really do tributes here at Cinema Styles. When it's someone's birthday or an important figure in film history dies Cinema Styles usually comes up empty. Come looking for a birthday remembrance or an obituary and you'll likely wander into a barren landscape of curiously absent posts on the subject. It's certainly not because I don't have immense respect for artists like Jules Dassin or Richard Widmark, the two most recent important film figures to leave us. It's because, more often than not, I feel inadequate to the task. Except for some very specific figures I never feel that I'm a big enough fan or historian of the given artist's career to do them the proper justice. Along with this comes the knowledge that many very good writers will be giving their impressions and saying far more, and more eloquently, than I ever could. Having read some of the tributes to Richard Widmark I knew it was best that I stay out of it. There was nothing for me to say that so many others hadn't already said, and said so well. Add on to that the fact that when I hear of someone's death it's usually halfway through the day, I've got projects due at work and a family I want to share my time with at home and the last thing I want to do is slap together an insincere rush job.

But birthdays are a little different. At least with those, you know they're coming. You can prepare something with a little more care than an obituary (unless you're a major media outlet that prepares obits in advance). Still, I don't really do birthdays either. I did one, once, for Alfred Hitchcock and I enjoyed it (it was a sampling of Hitchcock's superlatives such as Best Location, Best Chase, etc.) but I haven't done one since.

Until now.

And I'm having the same problem. Bette Davis turns 100 years old today and she is, in my opinion, a figure in film history that cannot be ignored. When she hits a milestone like 100 (even if obviously she's not here to celebrate it with us) it has to be acknowledged. But I know that the other cinephiles out there will have much more to say about her than I do. With a figure like Davis it's difficult because so many of the stories about her, like storming off the set of The Letter only to return shortly thereafter out of respect for William Wyler, are already so well known. What can one say other than give personal remembrances? And my personal remembrances are not unique. Like so many others I was amazed at an early age by how utterly unappealing she was willing to make herself look on the screen, time and time again, if it fit the character. When I listen to people talk with reverential awe about Robert de Niro gaining weight to play Jake LaMotta or Charlize Theron uglying herself up to play Aileen Wuornos I think (with all due respect to DeNiro and Theron), "Davis did that every other movie."

Like others I found her personal appearances to be a mixture of fascination and hilarity. I remember watching her on David Letterman in the eighties (tried to find it online but couldn't) and she mentioned how difficult Faye Dunaway was to work with and Letterman said, "Well we've got a little surprise for you Bette. Faye, come on out here." Bette immediately tensed up and her eyes bulged. Letterman then said, "I was just joking, she's not really here" and Bette replied (I'm doing this all from memory so it's not exact), "I know that David, I'm not an idiot!" The audience burst into laughter and applause. It was clear she had been fooled by Letterman but something about her steadfast refusal to admit it, and admonish him at the same time, made her seem like a giant. Odd, because with anyone else that would probably make them appear smaller.

Then there was the 59th Annual Oscars Ceremony which I only remember because of Bette going on about Robert Wise, who was accepting the Best Actor Oscar for Paul Newman. That one is online here if you'd like to watch it. All Wise wanted to do was say "thanks" for Newman and exit the stage but Davis was going to make sure she sung his praises first. She's old and very fragile in appearance but someway, somehow she's the strongest and boldest person in the building. Again she stands her ground and again the audience loves it. There's something satisfying about watching someone who has no illusions about their dominance, but not in a bad way. Not at the expense or pain of others. Just knowing they're strong and not shying away from that fact.

But strength is often misconstrued with something else. More than once Bette was called "bitchy," "difficult," or just a plain old "pain in the ass." But for every story about an on set incident there are two or three stories about graciousness the give lie to the reputation. As I said when I started this post others say things better than I do when it comes to tributes so I think it best to let Olivia DeHavilland have the last word here.

In a TCM Documentary I watched last year on Errol Flynn, De Havilland was talking about making The Private Lives of Elizabeth of Essex. Anyone who knows Davis knows the stories of how she couldn't stand working with Errol Flynn on the film. She thought he had a lazy approach to acting and did not find the shoot rewarding. Years later, at a birthday party for Davis in which her friend Olivia De Havilland was attending, Davis decided that they should all watch Elizabeth of Essex. De Havilland thought it was an odd choice and was worried that things would be awkward afterwards if someone mentioned Flynn's performance. They all sat and watched the movie and enjoyed it. As the movie finished and De Havilland started to worry about what might happen, Davis stood up and announced loudly, "Damn he was good! I was wrong, he was brilliant!"

Happy Birthday to Bette Davis, 100 years old today.

And the Oscar Goes to ...

... something you did in another year. Cinema Styles presents Great moments in Oscar Compensation History.

Leading up to the Oscars I'll continue to highlight snubs and other odd behavior. This new feature focuses on the best (or worst) of the "mercy" Oscars, as they're known. These are Oscars given as compensation for a flub in a previous year. We'll start it off with an actress, an actor and a director.

BEST ACTRESS: Bette Davis Dangerous 1935 - for her un-nominated performance in Of Human Bondage 1934. This is considered by many to be the first true Oscar compensation award. It was only the eighth year of the awards and already they were screwing up royally. In 1934 Bette Davis received praise for her blazing performance in Of Human Bondage. Whether the accent was perfect or not, who cares? She was easily the most memorable thing on the screen for the entire year and it made her a star. But the Academy didn't nominate her and movie fans around the country cried foul. So the Academy allowed for a write-in-vote among members for the first time so that Davis could still win, possibly. She didn't. The award went to Claudette Colbert (a personal favorite of mine) in It Happened One Night and you can't really complain about that. In 1935 Davis made Dangerous, giving a listless performance in a mediocre film. Nobody cared. They gave her the Oscar for it, but everyone knew why she had really won it.

BEST ACTOR: James Stewart The Philadelphia Story (1940) - for his performance in Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (1939). His performance in The Philadelphia Story is terrific but here's the story from days gone by: In 1938 Robert Donat lost to Spencer Tracy who won his second consecutive Oscar, this time for Boys Town. According to Oscar lore there were some feelings that the Academy was all about rewarding American movies (which it is) and no others. Other Brits had won (Charles Laughton The Private Lives of Henry VII 1933) but many felt Donat's performance in The Citadel was better than Tracy's in Boys Town. So in 1939, Donat received the award for his performance in Goodbye Mr. Chips. That meant Clark Gable had to lose for Gone With the Wind but that was okay because he already had an Oscar for It Happened One Night (1934). That left Jimmy Stewart, of whom many felt gave the best performance of the year in Mr. Smith. Which takes us to 1940 and The Philadelphia Story. Did you get all that?

BEST DIRECTOR: Martin Scorsese The Departed (2006) - for a career of previous achievement (Mean Streets, Taxi Driver, King of Comedy, After Hours, Raging Bull, goodfellas). This is too recent to have any significant lore attached to it but if most filmgoers check their gut instincts there's no denying he didn't deserve it for this movie. The film moves fast and weaves a complicated tale but (for me at least) when it's over, it's gone. It leaves the head and doesn't come back. It was yet another film from last year (like Little Miss Sunshine) that received kudos and attention far outweighing it's status as a somewhat sterile empty crime thriller. But the kudos and awards inflated the expectations and inevitably those expectations were not met. This was not the best film of the year and certainly not Scorsese's best work, but it feels like a Scorsese film (unlike say, The Aviator) and they had to FINALLY give it to him for something.

Director's Commentary: Canned Ham

I have a confession to make. It's not an easy one to make having studied acting and getting my degree in theatre. Most of the time, a good 99 percent of the time in fact, I enjoy the subtleties and nuances of a great performance. The great actors, from Katherine Hepburn to Jimmy Stewart, from Bergman to Brando, from Stanwyck to De Niro, are the filet mignons of the acting world and I enjoy feasting at their table with a nice, rich burgandy. But I confess, every now and then I get a hankering for a Cherry Coke and a slice of ham. And a great ham performance can sometimes leave you with a feeling of invigoration that all the nuance in the world can't match. And so now, allow me to humbly propose the first five inductees into The Ham Hall of Fame, each honored with a salt-cured Piggies Plaque.

Introduction to The Five Piggies

It is only fair, at the outset, to distinguish between a bad ham actor and a good ham actor. A bad ham actor is a woefully limited actor who over emotes (badly) and inflects his words adamantly in every performance because it's all he knows how to do. Think Richard Dix. His hammed up performances don't fill me with joy, they make me wince. A good ham actor is an actor of considerable skill who because of his abilities can go over the top in ways lesser actors can only dream about. The good ham actor exudes an energy that shoots off the screen and smacks you in the face. In short, a good ham actor is a great actor who knows how and when to take things over the top. Think Charles Laughton.

1. This little piggy went to market

And speaking of Charles Laughton, I have always considered his performance as Captain Bligh in the 1935 version of Mutiny on the Bounty as a great moment in ham history. In the later versions, with Trevor Howard and Anthony Hopkins, Bligh is portrayed as an impatient and rigid disciplinarian. Here he is portrayed as the son of Satan. Not only is it written as an evil character (he wants shipmates to hang even after it is clear there were not involved in the mutiny) but Laughton plays him with such a relish for malevolence that if the film had employed a scene whereby Fletcher Christian (a very non-British Clark Gable) walked in on Bligh eating a roasted baby it would not have surprised the audience. With Laughton one does not get subtle glances, one gets arched eyebrows and long telegraphed stares. There is no nuanced twitch of the lip but a dour frown drooping down to the floorboards. It's a great ham performance in an entertaining film. The film also comes packaged with two other treats: Clark Gable not even attempting an English accent as Fletcher Christian and Franchot Tone looking so unrugged, with arms so spindly and a chest bordering on concave, you would expect he would die from frailty after one day at sea. Other notable pork chops for Laughton would be The Big Clock and Witness for the Prosecution.

2. This little piggy stayed at home

If you've seen The Rose Tattoo you probably recognize how wonderful Anna Magnani is in the lead. From beginning to end she doesn't seem like she is acting, almost as if a real person had wandered onto the set in front of the cameras as they were rolling. You probably noticed something else too: Burt Lancaster as Alvaro Mangiacavallo. Holy crap! Hit the road intimate character insights, here comes Burt as Alvaro. In many scenes, like when Alvaro shows Serafina the rose tattoo on his chest while laughing cartoonishly ( HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA ), Serafina looks bewildered by Alvaro. It's tempting to think that this was not a part of Magnani's performance but simply that of Magnani the actress thinking to herself, "Why in the hell is he ACTING so much?" Alvaro is played as a bumbling buffoon by Lancaster with every line delivered at the top of his lungs. Lancaster doesn't play the role to the balcony, he plays it to the moon. At first, you're stunned by the obvious theatrics Lancaster employs to play the role but by the end Lancaster has actually endeared you to the character. Ah, the mark of a great ham.

3. This little piggy had roast beef

Now let's go to one of the all time great actresses. She played many a role to perfection, and while she is known as a grand movie diva she is not known as a ham. But there is one performance that stands out as a definite finalist for the Ham Hall of Fame. I'm speaking of none other than Bette Davis in Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?. In this film she holds back absolutely nothing. There isn't a hint of underplaying to be found in a single frame. Three moments stand out. The first comes after Blanche (Joan Crawford) complains that Jane wouldn't be able to treat her badly if she wasn't in a wheelchair to which Jane (Bette Davis) blusters, "But ya ARE Blanche, ya ARE!" The second would be the famous moment where Blanche discovers what her next meal is - it's not chicken. That's when Bette let's out a sustained cackle that takes away the horror of the scene and just makes you start laughing with her. And finally, my personal favorite, when Victor Buono accompanies her on piano as she sings "I've Just Sent a Letter to Daddy." The result is a visual and aural salute to the ham. Looking like a forgotten baglady but nonetheless impersonating a little girl it's a wonder to behold. For that number alone she should have gotten an Oscar, or at least some acknowledgement of the guts it had to take to do that in front of the entire crew.

4. This little piggy had none

Now we go to an actress playing an actress. In a roundabout way, it's connected to the last movie. This time it's Faye Dunaway as Joan Crawford in Mommie Dearest. Joan Crawford herself never hammed it up nearly as much as Faye Dunaway did playing her. Obviously there's the "No more wire hangers EVER!" scene and if you don't know that one by now you have a talent at blocking out pop culture that is enviable. But there are so many others. My personal favorite is her meeting with the Pepsi Board of Directors: "Don't f*ck with me fellas. This ain't my first time at the rodeo." I don't know if Joan Crawford was really like this or not I just know that Dunaway, clearly by design, provides absolutely no transitions between "normal" Joan and "enraged" Joan. When Dunaway gets angry in the film it is sudden and blunt. And in the meantime Dunaway makes sure her eyes bulge and her chin quivers. Every emotion she has she projects from a mile away. She's sad, head shakes violently. She's angry, veins burst from forehead. She's happy, ... oh wait, that doesn't happen much. It's a great ham performance. Someone put a slice of pinapple on her back and start glazing.

5. And this little piggy went... "Wee wee wee" all the way home

My final inductee on the list is also an actor of considerable skill. Enough skill in fact that he has made this virtual train wreck of a movie watchable to me again and again. I'm speaking of Gary Oldman in Bram Stoker's Dracula (this movie is also notable for having a second, supporting, ham performance by Anthony Hopkins, practically baying at the moon as Dr. Van Helsing). Gary Oldman makes the Count irrepressably watchable. When Harker (Keanu Reeves, yes, Keanu Reeves) cuts himself shaving Oldman manages to compress five or six facial expressions into two seconds as he licks the blood off of the razor. Hidden under layers of make-up and a wig stolen from Daisy Moses' giveaway pile Oldman nevertheless makes himself known. With his trembling hands, that sonorous old-man chuckle, the look of panic when cornered and full-throttle release of anguish when he has lost his love, Oldman fills the role with such a physical relish it's quite possible it is one of the few film performances in existence visible from space. And all of this had to have been made all the more difficult having to do so many scenes with Reeves who achieves a kind of "anti-ham" performance here, a benchmark of sorts in mangled accents and wooden stammering. The movie itself is so visually excessive that any lesser of a performance wouldn't have even been noticed.

Bacon Wrap

And so we wrap up the first five inductees. There's plenty more to choose from but space and time demand I stop here. And if you're ever in the mood for a nice thick slice of honey-roasted ham be sure to check out any one of the above. Just make sure you've got lots of Cherry Coke. You're going to need it to wash it all down.