You force me to refuse to make the picture unless the billing is mine

By the spring of 1939 Bette Davis was already a star. She had just won her second Academy Award for Jezebel (1938) and had recently starred in successful films like Dark Victory (1939) and Juarez (1939). While the actress was still working on The Old Maid (to be released in September 1939 and also to become a big hit), her next project —a film based on Maxwell Anderson's 1930 play Elizabeth the Queen— was already underway. For a long time Bette had wanted to play Queen Elizabeth I in a film adaptation of Anderson's play and was thrilled when producer Hal Wallis bought the property for her. Bette wanted Laurence Olivier to play the role of the Earl of Essex, but Warners wanted Errol Flynn, the studio's then biggest male star.  

Bette and Errol had played together in The Sisters a year earlier and at that time Bette was very happy to be co-starring with Flynn ("He was a big box office star at the time and it could only be beneficial to me to work with him"). For this project, however, she found Flynn "the only fly in the ointment", feeling he was not up to the task, not being "an experienced enough actor to cope with the complicated blank verse the play had been written in." Apart from being unhappy with the casting of Flynn, Bette was also unhappy with the title of the film. The title of the original play, Elizabeth the Queen, was initially set to be the film's title, but Flynn was opposed to it, demanding to be acknowledged in the title too. Warners consequently came up with a new title, The Knight and the Lady, to which Bette, in turn, fiercely objected.

Bette Davis and Errol Flynn as Queen Elizabeth I and Robert Devereux, 2nd Earl of Essex, in The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex; below they are pictured rehearsing a scene, with producer Robert Lord (l) and director Michael Curtiz looking on.

In April 1939, Bette Davis sent the following telegram to Warner Bros' studio head Jack Warner, demanding that the title The Knight and the Lady be changed.

Jack L.Warner, Personal  

Warner Bros Studio 

April 28, 1939 

I have been trying for some weeks to get an answer from you concerning the title of my next picture. I felt confident that you would of your own volition change it, considering the fact the play from which it is taken was bought for me and was called "Elizabeth the Queen". I have found out today you are not changing it. You of course must have realized my interest in the title change concerned the billing ... The script "The Knight and the Lady", like the play, is still a woman's story. I therefore feel justified in requesting first billing, which would automatically change the title, as the present title is obviously one to give the man first billing. I feel so justified in this from every standpoint that you force me to refuse to make the picture unless the billing is mine. If you would like to discuss this matter with me I would be more than willing. 

Bette Davis 

Bette Davis and Jack Warner

A week later, Jack Warner informed Bette that she would get first billing while assuring her The Knight and the Lady would not be used. The title was later changed to The Lady and the Knight, but Bette was still not satisfied. Again she sent Warner a telegram, demanding another title change. 

 

J.L Warner 

June 30, 1939

I have waited now since day picture started for title to be settled. I was promised it would not be "The Knight and the Lady". The present title "The Lady and the Knight", as announced in paper and called such in fan magazines, I consider the same thing ... You have the choice of "Elizabeth and Essex", "Elizabeth the Queen", or "The Love of Elizabeth and Essex". If Mr. [Paul] Muni is allowed the title "Juarez", another historical picture ... you need have no worry about the box office with the title "Elizabeth and Essex" with far more well known people than "Juarez". 

Bette Davis

Source of both telegrams: Inside Warner Bros. (1935-1951) (1985), selected and edited by Rudy Behlmer.

The title Elizabeth and Essex was already under copyright (as the title of a book by Lytton Strachey) so it couldn't be used. As said, Flynn objected to Elizabeth the Queen, so this title couldn't be used either. Apparently Warner didn't approve of Bette's last suggestion (The Love of Elizabeth and Essex) and eventually opted for The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex, inspired by other historical films, such as the successful The Private Life of Henry VIII (1933).

The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex became the box-office hit Warner Bros. had anticipated. It received five Oscar nominations, yet none in the major categories. While Bette Davis was expected to receive a nomination for her performance, she was not nominated for thís role but for her role in Dark Victory (also a Warners production). Eventually, the Oscar for Best Actress went to Vivien Leigh for Gone with the Wind, GWTW being that year's big winner.

Billing for The Sisters (top photo) and The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex. For The Sisters, Flynn would initially receive sole billing above the title. "At that time I had no billing clause in my contract," Bette recalled. "I felt after Jezebel that my name should always appear above the title. That is star billing." She held her ground and Warners eventually gave her above-the-title billing, although she came after Flynn. For The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex, like she had demanded, Bette came first.

Wyler is still up to his old tricks

Director of such classics as The Letter (1940), The Best Years of Our Lives (1946), The Heiress (1949) and Ben Hur (1959), William Wyler was known for his penchant for retakes. Actors mockingly called him "once more Wyler", "40-take Wyler" or even "90-take Wyler". Always looking for the perfect shot and determined to bring out the best in his actors, Wyler had them repeat the same lines, make the same movements or gestures through numerous retakes. His theory was that after a large number of takes actors would become so irritated and exasperated that they would no longer "act" but give the natural performance he was looking for. 

William Wyler and Bette Davis on the set of Jezebel

Bette Davis did some of her best work with Wyler. Their first film together was Jezebel (1938), followed by The Letter (1940) and The Little Foxes (1941). Bette said that prior to working with Wyler she had never done more than two takes in a film. On Jezebel's first day of shooting, however, Wyler let her do as much as forty-five takes. In her first scene with the riding crop, the director felt that Bette's gestures were too theatrical and then made her repeat the scene over and over again until she dropped her mannerisms and gave him the shot he wanted. While his directing style often drove Bette and other actors to exasperation as well as exhaustion, Wyler ultimately got the best performances out of them. Bette won her second Oscar for Jezebel and later gave the director full credit: "It was all Wyler. I had known all the horrors of no direction and bad direction. I now knew what a great director was and what he could mean to an actress".

Wyler watches as Henry Fonda and Bette Davis play a scene in Jezebel

During the filming of Jezebel, it was not only Bette Davis but also leading man Henry Fonda who was forced by Wyler to do numerous retakes (of one scene even forty). A few weeks into production, Fonda's retakes caught the attention of producer Hal Wallis who was worried about going over schedule and over budget. Wallis wondered whether Wyler held a grudge against Fonda over Margaret Sullavan —both men had been married to the actress— and if that was the reason why he made Fonda do so many takes. About the subject Wallis sent a memo to associate producer Henry Blanke in early November 1937. (Actually Fonda and Wyler liked each other and became friends.) A few months later, the producer sent Blanke another memo, seeing that Wyler had not changed his ways and was still shooting multiple takes. 

 

DATE: November 4, 1937

SUBJECT: "Jezebel"

TO: Blanke

FROM: Wallis

Do you think Wyler is mad at Henry Fonda or something because of their past? It seems that he is not content to okay anything with Fonda until it has been done ten or eleven takes. After all, they have been divorced from the same girl, and by-gones should be by-gones. I wonder if he wouldn't be satisfied to okay a fourth take or a fifth take occasionally. I am sure Fonda is a good actor, and I think if we will try printing up an occasional third or fourth take, after Wyler has okayed a tenth or an eleventh take, you will find that the third or fourth is just as good.

Possibly Wyler likes to see these big numbers on the slate, and maybe we could arrange to have them start with number "6" on each take, then it wouldn't take so long to get up to nine or ten. Will you please talk to Wyler and see if you can influence him a little on this score.

Hal Wallis

_____

 

DATE: January 8, 1938

SUBJECT: "Jezebel"

TO: Blanke

FROM: Wallis

In spite of hell and high water and everything else, Wyler is still up to his old tricks. In last night's dailies, he had two takes printed of the scene where Donald Crisp leaves the house and Davis comes down the stairs and finds out that Pres [Henry Fonda] is coming. The first one was excellent, yet he took it sixteen times.

Doesn't this man know that we have closeups to break up a scene of this kind, and with all of the care he used in making the closeups, certainly he must expect that we would use the greater portion of the scene in closeup. Yet, he takes the time to make sixteen takes of a long shot. What the hell is the matter with him anyhow — is he absolutely daffy? Is he on the level when he says he is going to speed up and try to get through? If he is, this is a poor indication of it. Will you please tell him I said so.

Hal Wallis 

Source: Inside Warner Bros. (1935-1951) (1985), selected and edited by Rudy Behlmer. 

_____

While the Daily Production Reports showed that there had been an attempt to speed up production, by then the film was already going over budget. Wallis consequently threatened to fire Wyler and bring in William Dieterle to replace him. Bette, who had started an affair with Wyler, wouldn't stand for it and went to studio boss Jack Warner, pleading to let Wyler stay on. She promised to work late every night and start again early in the morning, whatever it took to finish the picture. Warner let Wyler stay but the director wouldn't work any faster and Jezebel eventually went 28 days over its original 42-day schedule. As said, Bette won an Oscar for her performance, and Fay Bainter also won the statuette for Best Supporting Actress. The film itself ended up being both a critical and commercial success. 

Although Wyler didn't receive an Oscar nomination for his direction in Jezebel, he is still the most nominated director in Oscar history with twelve nominations. He ultimately won three Oscars, i.e. for Mrs Miniver (1942), The Best Years of Our Lives (1946) and Ben Hur (1959). Also, under Wyler's direction more actors received Oscar nominations for their performances than with any other director in history, i.e. thirty-six. Fourteen of them actually won the Oscar, which is also a record (among them Audrey Hepburn in Roman Holiday (1953), Olivia de Havilland in The Heiress (1949) and Barbra Streisand in Funny Girl (1968)). Needless to say, those retakes really paid off!

Bette, Henry and Willy while filming Jezebel

Bette and Joan's Financial Rivalry

By the early 1960s, Bette Davis and Joan Crawford were no longer the big box-office stars they once were. Both in their fifties, the actresses desperately needed a project to revive their declining careers. It was director/producer Robert Aldrich who came to the rescue when he sent Joan a copy of What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?, a 1960 novel by Henry Farrell. For years Joan had asked Aldrich, with whom she had worked on Autumn Leaves (1956), to find a suitable project for her and Bette Davis (Bette and Katharine Hepburn being the actresses she admired most). Joan was very enthusiastic after reading Farrell's story and next asked Bette to co-star with her in the film.

In order to get financing for his project, Aldrich approached every studio in Hollywood but the studio moguls had little faith in the box-office appeal of the two older stars. In the end, independent production company Seven Arts agreed to finance the film and Warner Bros, after being initially reluctant, decided to distribute it. Baby Jane was made on a very modest budget —with production completed in a mere six weeks— and Bette and Joan received salaries that were much lower than their standard fees. Aldrich later recalled: "I offered each actress a percentage of the picture plus some salary. Joan accepted, but Bette's agents held out for more than I could pay". Eventually Joan was paid a salary of $30,000 plus 15% of the net profits while Bette received $60,000 (double of Joan's salary!) and 10% of the profits. Being paid in net profits, Bette compared it to gambling and, as it turned out, Joan proved to be the better gambler. Unexpectedly, Baby Jane became a massive box-office hit and, with her percentage of the profits being higher than Bette's, Joan ultimately earned much more than Bette. (According to Donald Spoto's Possessed: The Life of Joan Crawford (2010), Joan's earnings on Baby Jane amounted to $1,400,000.)

Above: Bette Davis and Joan Crawford in a publicity still for Baby Jane as resp. Baby Jane Hudson and her sister Blanche. From the start Joan had wanted to play the role of the wheelchair-bound sister while she felt Bette would be perfect as the insane Baby Jane. Below: Joan and Bette laughing on the set of Baby Jane. While the women were by no means friends, they reportedly got along during filming despite all gossip to the contrary. It was, however, when Bette received an Oscar nomination for her performance and Joan didn't that things turned unfriendly between them (read more in this post).

Below is the first page of Bette and Joan's contracts for Baby Jane. Under paragraph 3 their salaries are indicated. Joan's contract clearly shows that she was paid $30,000 and not $40,000, as I've seen mentioned in several sources. The film of writer/producer Luther Davis referenced in the second paragraph of Joan's contract was Lady in a Cage (1964); at the time Joan was being considered for the lead role, which eventually went to Olivia de Havilland. 

Source: Heritage Auctions

Above: Bette made sure that in the opening credits of What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? her name came before Joan's.

Source: Heritage Auctions

Concluding this post, here is a fun anecdote. In November 1962 Bette Davis appeared on The Jack Paar Program to promote Baby Jane. Bette told Paar that when she and Joan were first suggested for the leads, the studio moguls said they wouldn't give a dime for "those two old broads" (watch Bette with Jack Paar here). A few days later, Bette received a note from Joan saying: "Please do not continue to refer to me as an old broad. Sincerely, Joan Crawford." 

"Those two old broads"

Jane Bryan - The Almost Star

Jane Bryan had a very short Hollywood career which lasted only four years. Initially wishing to be a stage actress, Bryan followed a dramatic training in Jean Muir's theatre workshop where Bette Davis discovered her. After being offered a contract at Warner Bros. she made her film debut in The Case of the Black Cat (1936) and other roles in memorable Warner films followed— e.g. Marked Woman (1937) co-starring Bette Davis and Humphrey Bogart; Kid Galahad (1937) with Edward G. Robinson, Bette and Bogart; A Slight Case of Murder (1938) with Robinson; Each Dawn I Die (1939) with James Cagney and George Raft; and probably her best remembered role as Bette's daughter in The Old Maid (1939), co-starring Miriam Hopkins. Bryan's biggest and most critically acclaimed role came with We Are Not Alone (1939) opposite Paul Muni. In 1940, at age 22, Bryan retired from acting after she married wealthy businessman Justin Dart. She and Dart had three children and remained married until Dart's death in 1984. 

Above: Jane Bryan and Bette Davis in Marked Woman. The actresses played in four films together; apart from the three films already mentioned they also co-starred in The Sisters (1938).

Above: Bette and Jane in a scene from The Old Maid. Bette later said about Jane's performance: "I had to hide her face in a pillow to stop her stealing my scenes."  Below: Jane and Paul Muni in We Are Not Alone.

At the time of her retirement Bryan was a very promising young actress. Apart from Bette Davis who had discovered her and would praise her at every opportunity, there were many others who lauded Bryan. For example, her performance as Edward G. Robinson's daughter in A Slight Case of Murder led Variety to comment: "Robinson is at his peak as a comical gangster who goes straight when Prohibition ends, but it's Jane Bryan who steals the picture." And her first (and only) leading role in We Are Not Alone (as a troubled Austrian dancer who becomes governess to Paul Muni's son) earned her positive reviews and the National Board of Review acting award. Playwright Noël Coward even called her "the best young movie actress working today" while film critic Robbin Coons said: "It is a heart-touching performance in which sincerity and truth are radiant factors ... the picture should mean virtually immediate stardom for her." 

But while stardom seemed to be in the offing, Bryan soon left Hollywood and never looked back. (She was very shy and in later years refused to give interviews, in particular about her "long ago" film career.) In 1974 Davis, who remained friends with her protégée long after the latter quit acting, said about Bryan's decision: "Jane Bryan, in her short career, gave many fine performances. When she confided that she was in love and was going to give up her career, as the man she loved did not want her to continue if she married him, I was sorry, as I thought she had a great future in films. She has, however, never regretted her decision in all these many years."

Apart from being a devoted mother, Bryan was a philanthropist and a well-known patron of the arts. From 1971 to 1976, she served on the United States Commission of Fine Arts in Washington DC. Furthermore, she enjoyed participating in archaeological expeditions and at one time was governor of the Los Angeles Natural History Museum. 

__________

The following postscript from Bette Davis to columnist Allan Smith led me to write this post about Jane Bryan, initially knowing nothing about her although I had seen several of her films (most notably The Old Maid). The P.S. is from a letter dated 30 April 1938, in which Bette first talked about her own fan club and then added this comment on Bryan. 

Source: icollector.com (click on the link if you want to read Bette's full letter)

Transcript:

P.S. I wish some intelligent person would start a Club for Jane Bryan — I am so interested in her — she is a grand actress and has a wonderful future in pictures. Is under contract to Warner Bros. and played with me in 'Marked Woman' and 'Kid Galahad'. My reason for mentioning this to you is because I too, as you know, am a Massachusetts-ite!!

Bette D.

Jane Bryan with Justin Dart, the man for whom she gave up her Hollywood career. The two were staunch Republicans and lifelong friends of the Reagans (first when Ronald Reagan was married to Jane Wyman and later to Nancy Davis). The Darts influenced Reagan (one of Bryan's former co-stars ar Warners) to switch from the Democratic to the Republican Party and were among the first to encourage him to run for Governor of California and later for President.

Bette Davis & Life with Father

When Warner Bros. decided to film Life with Father (1947), the 1939 hit play by Howard Lindsay and Russel Crouse, they quickly settled on William Powell for the role of Father (Clarence Day Sr.) and borrowed him from MGM. Finding the right actress to play Mother (Vinnie Day) proved a more difficult task, though. Several actresses were tested, including Rosalind Russell, Rosemary DeCamp and even Mary Pickford who, wishing to make her comeback to the screen after a thirteen-year absence, was very eager to play the part. None of these ladies was chosen, however, with Pickford quite devastated when she was rejected. (Producer Robert Buckner recalled: "[Studio boss] Jack Warner and [director] Mike Curtiz were cowards about telling her, so they told me to go to Pickfair and inform America's sweetheart that she was washed up in pictures. She made a great entrance down a staircase and was smiling and beaming, thinking she had the part. She just dissolved in front of my eyes when I told her the bad news.")

1945, Bette Davis' costume test for Life with Father

The studio's initial choice for the female lead was Bette Davis, Warners' top leading lady at the time. While Bette wanted the role, the authors of the play weren't convinced she would be right for it, so they insisted that Michael Curtiz shoot a test with her doing a comedy scene. Curtiz travelled to New York to show the test to the theatre people but they were unimpressed and Bette was rejected. In a 1980's interview Bette said she didn't mind losing the part as she didn't want to work with Curtiz again anyway. (Having worked with Curtiz six times, Bette once said about him: "He was not a performer's director ... You had to be very strong with him. And he wasn't fun. He could humiliate people, but never me. He was a real BASTARD! Cruelest man I have ever known. But he knew how to shoot a film well.") 

The part of Vinnie Day was eventually given to freelance actress Irene Dunne, at the time still a top box-office draw. Irene thought the role wasn't appealing at all —she hated Vinnie's ditsiness— and refused it several times. It took a lot of persuasion from Curtiz before Dunne finally accepted: "... I accepted the part because it seemed to be rewarding enough to be in a good picture that everyone will see." And indeed — Life with Father became a huge box-office hit, receiving generally good reviews and four Oscar nominations to boot (including nominations for William Powell and Max Steiner for his score).

In December 1945, after returning from New York where he had screened Bette Davis' test for Howard Lindsay and Russel Crouse, Michael Curtiz sent Bette the following telegram in care of the Plaza Hotel in Laredo, Texas, where she and her third husband William Grant Sherry were still enjoying their honeymoon. Curtiz informed her that the people in New York didn't approve of the test, finding her performance "too powerful, too dominating, too superior and without any naivete...". The director went on to say that he was "heart-broken" as he had looked forward to working with her again. Whether Curtiz was sincere or not I don't know; at any rate, as mentioned above, Bette didn't like working with him and the two never worked together again.

 

Mrs. William Grant Sherry
Plaza Hotel
Laredo Texas 

December 14, 1945

Dear Bette: Just returned from New York after projecting your test to the group that operates "Life with Father". Bette, it was worse than the Potsdam Conference. I was not born to be a diplomat, so probably hurt a few people's feelings. I was and still am honestly convinced that you are the woman to play the part but I could not overcome objections of these critics using all the technical terms of the theatre, such as the characterization is too powerful, too dominating, too superior and without any naivete, etc., etc. I explained the circumstances under which we made the test without much preparation. Tried to convince them that being the great artist you are you could overcome all objections and you could easily characterize the part as it should be played but I was not very successful; was overruled, and I am afraid Bette, we will have to just consider it for the time being forgotten, unless I can change their minds when they come out to the coast and insist upon other tests. All I can tell you is that I am heart-broken as I had looked forward to working with you and I hope some day we can start on a moving picture which will not have to be approved by superior prejudiced critics of the theatre. Much love and happiness to you and your husband— Michael Curtiz

Source: Inside Warner Bros. (1935-1951) (1985), selected and edited by Rudy Behlmer. 

Above: Michael Curtiz and Bette Davis during production of The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex (1939), the last of their six collaborations. The other films are The Cabin in the Cotton (1932), 20,000 Years in Sing Sing (1932), Jimmy the Gent (1934), Front Page Woman (1935) and Kid Galahad (1937). Below: William Powell and Irene Dunne as Clarence and Vinnie Day in Life with Father. I can only agree that Bette would have been totally wrong for the role of Vinnie; Irene, however, was delightful in the role, being sweet, ditsy and clever at the same time.

The Short-Lived History Of Oscar Write-Ins

For two years in Oscar history —in 1935 and 1936— the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences allowed its members to vote for anyone they chose, even when that person was not officially nominated. Reason for the Academy to permit these write-in votes was the public outrage that occurred over the snub of Bette Davis' performance in RKO's Of Human Bondage (1934). Bette's powerful and daring portrayal of the coarse waitress Mildred was unanimously praised by critics, audiences and Hollywood celebs alike, with Life magazine even calling it "probably the best performance ever recorded on the screen by a U.S. actress". The fact that Bette wasn't among the Best Actress nominees led to a huge uproar and a write-in campaign followed to have her nominated anyway. (Even Norma Shearer who herself was nominated for The Barretts of Wimpole Street supported the campaign.)

Among the general public there were many people shocked by the omission of Bette from the list of Oscar nominees. A man named James Fitzgerald sent this letter to the movie fan magazine Movie Classic, showing his indignation and calling on others to also make themselves heard.

 

Source: Movie Classic via archive.org

In order to put an end to all the criticism, several days after the announcement of the nominations the Academy decided to change the rules and issued a statement: "Despite the fact that the criticism fails to take into consideration that the nominations have been made by the unrestricted votes of each branch, the awards committee has decided upon a change in the rules to permit unrestricted selection of any voter, who may write on the ballot his personal choice for the winner." Bette Davis became the only write-in nominee that year but eventually lost to Claudette Colbert for her performance in It Happened One Night. When Bette did win the next year for her role in Dangerous, she called the Oscar her consolation prize for losing out with Of Human Bondage.

The next year, write-in votes were again allowed and there was one studio that decided to go all in. Studio boss Jack Warner encouraged all Academy members among his employees to submit write-ins for Warner Bros. films. This resulted in unofficial nominations in seven different categories, including Michael Curtiz for Best Director in Captain Blood and Paul Muni for Best Actor in Black Fury (Warners being the only studio that year with write-in nominees). Warners' active campaigning eventually paid off when the unofficially nominated Hal Mohr (see photo) took home the Oscar for Best Cinematography in A Midsummer Night's Dream. Technical issues of write-in voting aside, the Academy realised that this kind of voting was not the way to go, seeing how easy it was for studios to manipulate the system and win Oscars. (It was later revealed that write-in nominees Muni and Curtiz had come close to beating the eventual winners Victor McLaglen and John Ford, who both won for The Informer.) 

Write-in voting was thus abandoned a year later and Hal Mohr remains the only write-in winner in Oscar history.

Never not dare to hang yourself

Bette Davis said that the best professional advice she had ever received came from Charles Laughton. Laughton, an actor Bette greatly admired but with whom she had never worked (to her enormous regret), visited her one day on the set of The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex (1939). It was the first time the two had ever met. That day Laughton would give Bette a piece of advice which she treasured for the rest of her career. 

On 9 April 1972, at the request of a journalist, Bette described in a letter Laughton's visit to the set and the advice he gave her. As can be seen from the hotel stationery she used, Bette was writing from Rome where she was probably filming Lo Scopone Scientifico (1973).

Source: RR Auction

Transcript:

April 9, 1972

Dear Mr. Letters (?),

I hope the enclosed will be a satisfactory answer to your request.

I'm sorry it has taken so long to answer you. I came to work here very suddenly and some of my mail has just reached me.

Thank you for including me in your book. If you do.

Most sincerely,

Bette Davis

Will you send me a copy to o.k.

Will be here another month

During the filming of "Elizabeth and Essex" Charles Laughton visited the set one day. The best advice professionally came from him that day. As he played my professional father, Henry the Eighth, I said "Hello papa." I told him I had my "nerve" playing his daughter at sixty years old. I was at the time thirty, myself. He replied "Never [not] dare to hang yourself." In other words attempt parts that you feel are beyond your capability. That is the only way for an actor to improve his work.

Bette Davis

Bette Davis as Queen Elizabeth I in The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex (1939) and Charles Laughton as her "father" King Henry VIII in The Private Life of Henry VIII (1933).

"Golden Arrow" seems to make unusually good sense

Bette Davis hated most of the films she made during the first half of the 1930s. There were exceptions like Of Human Bondage (1934), Dangerous (1935) and Petrified Forest (1936), but on the whole she thought the films were duds, doing nothing to advance her career. One of the films Bette despised the most was The Golden Arrow (1936), one of her many collaborations with George Brent. "I was actually insulted to have to appear in such a cheap, nothing story", she later said. The film was one of the "stinkers" responsible for Bette's breach of contract with Warner Bros. and her eventual lawsuit against the studio, which she lost. (During the latter part of the 1930s, she did get significantly better roles, starting with Marked Woman (1937).)

Seeing how much Bette hated The Golden Arrow, it's surprising how she still found something positive to say about it. Not about the film itself or her role in it, admittedly, but about the film's title. On a postcard, postmarked 18 May 1936, Bette wrote that, compared with the average film title, The Golden Arrow made "unusually good sense". Bette's handwritten message, consisting of just two lines, was sent to esteemed collector Saul Goodman and can be seen below.

I actually like a lot of the lighter, fluffier films Bette herself hated, including Golden Arrow. Bette and George are pictured here together in a scene from the film. I think they had the best chemistry.

Source: icollector.com

Transcript:

The title "Golden Arrow" —as compared with the average moving picture title seems to me to make unusually good sense. It means Cupid’s dart—or arrow—instead of being shot because of love—in this case is shot for gold-money!

Bette Davis

[Bette plays a (fake) heiress, chased by suitors who are after her money. In order to get rid of these fortune-hunters, she enters into a marriage of convenience with a reporter, played by Brent]

Bette Davis' advice: Every human being should be self-supporting

In 1943, Bette Davis had her own advice column "What Should I Do?" in the popular fan magazine Photoplay-Movie Mirrror. Numerous letters were written to the Hollywood diva asking her advice, in particular on love and relationships. Here is a letter from housewife Patricia J., which appeared in the July 1943 issue. Patricia was wondering if she should get a job, like her husband wanted, and learn to be self-supporting. Seeing that Bette herself was an independent career woman, her advice to Patricia should come as no surprise. 

Dear Miss Davis,

I am a bride of six months and have a very dear husband. We love each other deeply. He has had a very difficult life as he has worked since he was fourteen. Now, he has a rather important job and we get along very nicely on his salary. 

After two months of marriage, he brought up the subject of a wife’s being independent. He wants me to go to school and to learn to be something. He says that he has seen so many changes concerning work that he feels a woman should be able to share in supporting a home, if need be. 

I love being a housewife and I know I would be very unhappy if I had to go to work. I like to cook, and clean, and have my home attractive. How can a woman keep up with household duties when she has to go off to the office? I told him a girl marries to have someone to depend on. 

Do you believe a woman has to learn to be self-supporting? 

Patricia J. 

__________

 

Dear Mrs J: 

I happen to agree with your husband. 

I think that every human being should be self-supporting. Who knows what the future may bring, or of what great value trained women may be in the post-war world. 

I, personally, have a pretty big job to do, yet I manage to do lots of things in my own home in spare time snatched after working hours. 

It seems to me that you are fortunate to have the sort of husband you do. After all, housework for the first six months is fun, but after four or five years of it you won’t find it satisfies you all day, every day. 

Also, I believe you will find that learning to become self-supporting will bring something new and very interesting into your life.

Sincerely,

Bette Davis

Source: Photoplay- Movie Mirror

Transcript of Bette's note:

After the appearance of my first column I received a great many letters asking if my column had been "ghosted" -- I should like to assure each person who writes to me - your letters are read by me - I select those for answer which I feel are representative of the problems I am dealing with in the next issue. I don't have time to completely edit my material for publication. Photoplay- Movie Mirror has given me Fredda Dudley to help me.

Bette Davis

A fan - from a fan

Bette Davis, a fan of Elizabeth Taylor — who would have thought? 

Well, apparently Bette was, judging from a note written to Elizabeth for her birthday. Bette's note (accompanying a gift which was "a fan") read: Dear Elizabeth - Happy Birthday - I am one also! Bette

The fan and the note were among the items Elizabeth had kept at her home at 700 Nimes Road, Los Angeles — the house where she lived from 1982 until her death in 2011.

Bette and Elizabeth never worked together, but Elizabeth once did an impersonation of Bette on the big screen. In the opening scene of Who's Afraid of Virgina Woolf? (1966), Elizabeth imitates Bette saying the line "What a dump" a few times, a line Bette herself had uttered in the film Beyond the Forest (1949).

November 1981: Bette presents Elizabeth with the Filmex Trustees Award during a ceremony at the Ahmanson Theatre in Los Angeles.

Source: Public Delivery

80 Years of "Dark Victory": Spencer Tracy was born to play this part

Edmund Goulding's successful weepie Dark Victory is one of the many great films from 1939 celebrating its 80th anniversary this year. In a nutshell, the film is about a young, spoiled socialite who is terminally ill and falls in love with her doctor. Bette Davis stars as the socialite Judith Traherne, a role originally played by Tallulah Bankhead on the stage. (The original play Dark Victory, written by George Brewer Jr. and Bertram Bloch, only had a short run on Broadway in 1934.)

Before Bette's studio Warner Bros. purchased the movie rights, the rights were owned by producer David O. Selznick who had bought Dark Victory as a vehicle for Greta Garbo in 1935. Garbo, however, chose to do Anna Karenina (1935) instead and the next few years Selznick tried unsuccessfully to cast his picture while also facing problems with the script. Warners eventually bought the property from Selznick in the spring of 1938. Studio boss Jack Warner was at first uninterested in the story -- a film about a heroine dying of brain cancer surely couldn't be good for business -- but he was eventually persuaded by associate producer David Lewis and screenwriter Casey Robinson to take the film off Selznick's hands. 

Dark Victory was initially acquired by Warner Bros. as a vehicle for Kay Francis. Due to her row with the studio, however, Francis was demoted to doing Comet over Broadway (1938), which Bette had rejected, and Bette got to play the coveted role of Judith Traherne, a role she would later call her personal favourite among the many roles she had played.

As her leading man, Bette wanted her former co-star Spencer Tracy with whom she had played in 20,000 Years in Sing Sing (1932). She had enjoyed their collaboration immensely and longed to work with Tracy again, hoping that Dark Victory would be their next film together. Not only Bette but also screenwriter Casey Robinson wanted Tracy who was under contract to MGM. Robinson thought the success of the film depended on the proper casting of Dr. Frederick Steele, feeling that Tracy was the perfect man to play him. In a letter to producer Hal Wallis dated August 1938 (as seen below) Robinson urged Wallis to do everything he could to land Tracy for the role. In the end, however, Tracy was loaned to 20th Century-Fox to do Stanley and Livingstone (1940) and was thus unavailable. Bette never made a film with Tracy again. She did say in later years that he was the finest actor she had ever worked with. 

The man who was eventually cast as Dr. Steele was George Brent, with whom Bette had played many times before. Dark Victory was their eighth film together and during production the two began an affair which lasted well after shooting had finished. In the end, the two made a total of 11 films together. Bette reportedly said that of all her leading men Brent was her favourite.

While Bette didn't get to play with Spencer Tracy in the film version of Dark Victory, they did perform together in an adaptation of the film for the Lux Radio Theatre, which aired in August 1940 before a live audience. It's really great to hear this version with Tracy in Brent's role and to imagine how he would have played it on screen. I'm sure that Tracy would have handled some of the dramatic material better than Brent. Still, I love Brent and while he has his usual wooden moments, his overall performance in Dark Victory is fine. What I especially love is his natural and playful chemistry with Bette, in particular during their Vermont scenes (that they were real life lovers probably helped). In case you're interested in how Tracy handled the role on the radio, just go here.

TO: Hal Wallis 

FROM: Casey Robinson 

DATE: August 19, 1938 

SUBJECT: "Dark Victory" 

Dear Hal:

I note that at M.G.M. they have postponed Northwest Passage, leaving Spencer Tracy without an assignment. They are trying to put him into the Joan Crawford picture, but he is refusing the part [The Shining Hour]. That seems to leave him open for borrowing, and I plead with you to make every possible effort to land him. 

Please forgive my pushing my nose into casting which, strictly speaking, is not my concern, but you know that you and I have nurtured Dark Victory along for three years and I am concerned about it as I have never been concerned about any other picture. It is, above all things, a tender love story between a Long Island glamor girl and a simple, idealistic, more-or-less inarticulate New England doctor. If we don't capture this feeling in the proper casting of Doctor Steele, I know we will wind up with a tragic flop instead of a truly great picture. 

I don't know if you've found time yet to read the entire script, but if you have I'm sure you will agree with me that Tracy was born to play this part -- and of course I don't need to tell you what the combination of the names of Bette Davis and Spencer Tracy on the marquee would do to the box-office. 

Sincerely, 

Casey 

Source: Inside Warner Bros. (1935-1951) (1985), selected and edited by Rudy Behlmer.

Note
In April 1938, well before Bette Davis and George Brent played Judith Traherne and Dr. Steele, Barbara Stanwyck and Melvyn Douglas performed the roles on the radio, also for the Lux Radio Theatre. It's quite interesting to listen to this version as well, not only for Douglas in the role of the doctor (and to compare him with Brent and Tracy), but especially to get a sense of what Barbara would have done with the role had she been allowed to play it on screen. Barbara really wanted to star in the movie and was furious when Warner Bros. gave the role to Bette, one of Warners' own contract players. (Incidentally, this radio version is an adaptation of the play while the second radio version is an adaptation of the film.)

The Classic Movie Blog Association is celebrating its 10th anniversary this year. To celebrate this milestone, the CMBA is holding The Anniversary Blogathon and this post is my contribution to it. For all the entries of my fellow CMBA-ers, just click here.

Praising "The Killers"

For his first independent production, Mark Hellinger paid $36,750 for the movie rights to The Killers, a short story written by Ernest Hemingway in 1927. The story is about two hit men who visit a local diner one night, searching for an ex-boxer aka "the Swede" whom they've been hired to kill. Nick Adams (generally regarded as Hemingway's alter ego) is in the diner and goes to the Swede to warn him, but the latter waits passively for the hit men to come and kill him. The whole plot of Hemingway's short story takes place in the opening sequence of the film — the first 15 minutes being a fairly faithful adaptation of the Hemingway story — while the rest of the film is original, explaining in flashbacks why the Swede was killed. Hellinger hired Anthony Veiller, John Huston and Richard Brooks to write the screenplay, the latter two giving uncredited contributions. (For the full plot, go here.) 

(Left to right) Robert Siodmak, Burt Lancaster and Mark Hellinger are discussing the script of The Killers while office secretary Lois Regan is making notes on her typewriter.

To direct The Killers (1946), Mark Hellinger chose Robert Siodmak who had just scored a big hit with The Spiral Staircase (1946). Unable to get Wayne Morris for the part of the Swede (Warner Bros. refused to loan him out) Hellinger cast newcomer Burt Lancaster, while Ava Gardner was given the role of the femme fatale Kitty Collins. Other important roles went to Edmond O'Brien (insurance investigator Jim Reardon), Sam Levene (Lt. Sam Lubinsky), Albert Dekker (Big Jim Colfax) and William Conrad and Charles McGraw as the Killers. Director Siodmak got great performances from his actors, in particular from Burt Lancaster and Ava Gardner, the latter delivering some of her best work in that final scene. (Ava herself later said: "Siodmak helped me with my toughest scene, the one at the end.... [He] made me play that scene so many times that I truly became hysterical and gave a more convincing performance than I thought I had in me".)

The first-rate musical score of The Killers was composed by Miklós Rózsa while Elwood "Woody" Bredell was responsible for the cinematography. Bredell deserves a special mention here as his black-and-white photography is simply stunning (see images below).

Reception of The Killers was overwhelmingly positive. The film was a huge box-office hit, at its opening in New York in August 1946 even breaking previous records. Reviews in general were raving and Hemingway himself also liked the adaptation of his story. Quite unusual for a film noir, The Killers received four Oscar nominations (i.e. for Best Director, Best Film Editing, Best Screenplay and Best Music Score of a Dramatic or Comedy Picture), losing in each category to that year's big winner The Best Years Of Our Lives. 

Seen below are two letters written to producer Mark Hellinger, praising him for The Killers. The first letter comes from Bette Davis who saw the film in a small movie theatre several months after its release. Next is a letter from Ronald Colman who was lent a print of the film for viewing, after which he wrote to Hellinger to thank and compliment him. 

Note: Mark Hellinger would make a few more films (including Brute Force (1947)) before he died of a heart attack in December 1947, only 44 years old. His last production The Naked City (1948) was released after his death.

Mark Hellinger with Burt Lancaster and Ava Gardner who both became overnight stars after their roles in The Killers. 

Source: Heritage Auctions

Transcript:

Dear Mark,

In a tiny theatre in Whitefield New Hampshire last evening I saw "The Killers" —

It is wonderful- wonderful enough to sit down today and have to tell you —

your cast- your director —

your cameraman- the whole presentation-

really enthralling and exciting-

and the kind of use the motion picture should be put to oftener —

Many congratulations!!!

Bette Davis

January 27, 1947

Ronald Colman and Bette Davis (the letter writers for this post) photographed together in the 1940s.

Source: Heritage Auctions

Transcript:

1003, Summit Drive,

Beverly Hills, Calif.

September 27th, 1946.

Dear Mark Hellinger:

It was very kind of you to allow us run your picture THE KILLERS the other night.

This, however, is not only to thank you, but to say it is one of the finest pictures I have seen in a very long time — superbly produced and directed. The few friends who saw it with us were equally and superlatively enthusiastic.

Many thanks again, and best wishes,

(handwritten)

yours

Ronald Colman 


THIS POST IS MY CONTRIBUTION TO THE NOIRATHON HOSTED BY MADDY LOVES HER CLASSIC FILMS. TO READ ALL THE OTHER ENTRIES, GO HERE.