35. Lawrence of Arabia (1962)

A special photo to celebrate NYE 2017/18, and also because we're at Doug's parents' without our Oscar statuette!

Plot Intro

The hot desert land of Arabia in 1916 is ruled by various warring Arab tribes, and an invading force of Turks from the North. Into this situation is sent Lieutenant T. E. Lawrence (Peter O’Toole). After an inspirational meeting with one of the major Arab leaders, Prince Faisal (Alec Guinness), Lawrence teams up with Ali (Omar Sharif) and Auda (Anthony Quinn) to unite the Arab tribes against the Turks and gain control of their land- whilst also resisting the interference of the British Empire…

Paul says...

We end 2017 with another “epic”, but not as we know it. Our first was probably 1931’s Cimarron which was extremely Homeric in its linear episodic structure and its use of adventures and escapades to portray the heroism and development of the leading man. We then saw the titan of all epics, Gone With the Wind, in 1939, before seeing a lull in the ’40s. And then the '50s gave us The Bridge on the River Kwai (which had the same director as Lawrence, David Lean, as well as Alec Guinness) and Ben-Hur. I have written briefly about how Ben-Hur is more reflective of the epics of the time- hallowed, reverential, artifically beautiful, complete with religious overtones and unquestioning allegiance to the lead hero. The beauty of Lawrence of Arabia is that it takes the epic into new territory - in fact, into the very territory that Gone With the Wind nearly broke before the war depleted production values in Hollywood. The epic now involves flawed heroes. Small, humane stories set against a colossal backdrop. Gone With the Wind had Scarlet O’Hara’s spoilt cunning, while Lawrence of Arabia has Lawrence’s mental instability and disobedience.

And for the most part it’s awfully captivating. David Lean revels in views of the Arabian desert (also nicknamed “the sun’s anvil”), transforming it into a world that is magnificent and picturesque, but also alien and more dangerous than a jungle rife with carnivores. The first half of the film covers Lawrence’s initial travels over the desert and his battles not only with the contentious Arab tribes but also with the far more terrifying forces of nature. When he goes back into the most sun-scorched part of the desert to save a comrade who has fallen off his camel, it is made vividly clear to the audience that this seems impossible, so his success is breathtaking. 

Meanwhile, the humane side of things is carried expertly by Peter O’Toole in his career-establishing performance and first of a whopping eight Oscar nominations for Best Actor (he never won). It’s hard to believe that Marlon Brando was considered for the part - an actor far too rough-around-the-edges for such a role. O’Toole is elegant, flippant, but also vulnerable and easy to support as a result. It’s a nuanced but infamous performance, mostly because he pretty much outshines a troop of far more experienced actors around him (Alec Guinness, Anthony Quayle, Anthony Quinn, Jack Hawkins).

Like Gone With the Wind, this is a film that covers a lot of ground, though with a slower, more ponderous pace than its forerunner. And also like Gone With the Wind, the second half of the film is far inferior to the first. The first half is a relentless tale of adventure across the desert. The second is designed to show Lawrence’s descent into mental chaos and reasons for his exit from Arabia. Here, things become less engaging because a lot of character development is crammed into a shorter segment and the storyline and internal politics are more like edited highlights, losing the coherence of the first 2.5 hours. 

This doesn’t ruin the film entirely, however. I was dreading this one due to the intimidating length (between 3.5 and 4 hours depending on the DVD edition you might have). But it’s never boring, and what you will be watching is one of the most spectacular, large-scale movies ever made- it’s often found right up there in the top 10 or top 100 greatest films, so set aside an afternoon and copious amounts of coffee and give it a go. I dare you.

Highlight

Lawrence’s triumphant rescue of a fallen friend from the desert is the film’s most powerful moment for me. You can’t help cheer him as he conquers nature and proves his worth to the Arab tribes.

Lowlight

The film begins with Lawrence’s famous death in a motorcycle accident. I thought this would make the film into a circular structure and come back to it, but David Lean doesn’t, so the scene feels arbitrary.

Mark

8/10

Doug says...

I wonder at what point the producers and directors decide to sign off on a four hour running time. Because pragmatically it makes zero sense. You either have an epic storyline that won’t quite fit into four hours, or an overblown tale in need of serious editing - and actually something we’re seeing now is that television series are beginning to overtake cinema in terms of popularity, perhaps because the extended length of ten to fifteen hours allows audiences to access a story of careful and patient content, in non-intimidating hour-long chunks. 

Lawrence of Arabia very much falls into the first category. As Paul rightly says, it’s our second four hour film (after Gone With The Wind) and both suffer from having a beautifully measured, carefully paced first half, followed by a rushed second half as the creative team rush to cram the rest of the story in. But I disagree with Paul in some respects. 

Firstly, I think the downfall and spiralling out of Lawrence himself is fascinating. The first half sets him up as an invincible, if eccentric hero who is forced to do terrible things in the name of success. He has to execute several people in order to save his mission, and thanks to O’Toole’s excellent performance we fully understand the toll this takes. 

So when in the second half he suffers greater atrocities - including a very odd homoerotic scene where a police guard strokes his bare chest before ordering him to be beaten within an inch of his life - it makes perfect sense that he would start losing his grip. It culminates in a horrifying blood-drenched scene where he orders a perfectly unnecessary battle and is found at the heart of it, killing people with an unhinged grin on his face. It’s only his friend Sherif Ali (Omar Sharif) who stops him and pulls him back to sanity. 

It’s just that this section is woefully unexplored, and there’s the feeling that the writers really struggled - ironically enough I think that this would make a stronger tv series, and that this breakdown would account for at least half of a full length series. I like a flawed hero, and I found the fact that we question whether he really is a hero as the film progresses to be even more compelling. A little research reveals that the real Lawrence was a pathological liar, most likely gay - in an era when it was illegal, and certainly a masochist - not necessarily the most well balanced of men! I appreciate they reflected this - I just wanted more.

Where I most disagree with Paul though is that he says O’Toole outshines everyone, whereas for me, I found O’Toole to deliver an excellent performance certainly, but actually his supporting players often steal the limelight - (putting aside the awkwardness of white actors wearing ‘tanned’ make-up for the moment). I finally get why people always say Omar Sharif’s name and sigh (he is gorgeous) and I loved his and Anthony Quinn’s performances as two rival chieftains of Arabic clans - in particular any moment where those two sparred was excellent. But ultimately the film’s best performance for me came from Alec Guinness. 

Guinness is becoming one of my favourite actors rapidly with each film of his that I discover. Here he plays a thoughtful older Arabic king, and he delivers his performance with such measured thought and drive that you cannot take your eyes from him. It’s a tour de force with only a handful of scenes across the four hours, and he clearly was an actor to be feared. 

Ultimately, the beautiful landscapes win out, as David Lean makes the desert the most prominent player, and the stunning isolated background is one of the main things I feel led this film to victory. It’s an uneven shapeshifter of a film, but far more rewarding that I would have thought - and just how blue are Peter O’Toole’s eyes?! 

Highlight

There’s so many moments, but Omar Sharif’s first appearance is superb. Just a dot on the horizon, he rides closer to the camera over a few minutes so it takes ages to see him. Fantastic cinematography and direction from Lean, and the first time you see Sharif’s chiselled jaw to boot. 

Lowlight

The second half feels rushed, and needed another two hours to fully tell the tale. One for a Netflix series perhaps? 

Mark

9/10

34. West Side Story (1961)

Plot Intro

In the darkest corner of New York City, the youthful white-skinned gang, the Jets, led by Riff (Russ Tamblyn) are at loggerheads with the youthful Puerto Rican gang, the Sharks, led by Bernardo (George Chakiris). To complicate matters, Riff’s best friend Tony (Richard Beymer) has fallen in love with Bernardo’s sister, Maria (Natalie Wood) - and this is a love that is very much forbidden…

Doug says...

I’ve seen West Side Story several times before and never particularly warmed to it. I've always seen it as Romeo and Juliet but without the satisfactory poetic language, and the songs always seemed particularly trite and meaningless to me. As a standalone piece I don’t think I’m ever going to love it, and this is borne testament to by the fact that I watched it about five years ago and live-tweeted my utter disdain the whole way through - that is except for Rita Moreno whose exceptional portrayal of loudmouth (but ultimately vulnerable) Anita has always drawn my praise. 

But watching this film in the series as we are, I’ve gained a newfound appreciation and - perhaps more importantly - respect for this piece. It’s stunningly different from what’s come before, and it seems that only by watching it in context does it shake off the dusty feel and show you quite how groundbreaking it was. In fact, it’s such a game-changer that it’s clearly influenced a hell of a lot since. Gigi and the romanticised French world, it is not. 

And that’s the thing that most struck me about watching it this time. It’s not the cinematic effects - bright colours and rudimentary special touches (the ballroom where everything goes blurry except for Tony and Maria seeing each other) - it’s actually the gritty reality of the setting. Maria sings and dances about how she feels pretty, while in a glorified sweatshop with a window showing only more built up scaffolding and grey skies outside. The big dancehall where Maria and Tony meet is a dilapidated open space with paint peeling on the walls and just a large dirty wooden floor. Even the flat where Anita and Maria all live seems small and dated - a stained glass door feels dark and claustrophobic. 

Nowhere is this more apparent that in (what I would argue is the best song in the whole show) ‘America’. Anita roars about (Rita Moreno proving in one song why she won the Supporting Actress Oscar) and spars with her lover, Maria’s brother, Bernardo about why America is great. The lyrics are sharp and sadly still hold truth. America is wonderful, the song goes, if you are white. But despite Anita’s protestations that their life is better there, the plain fact is that all of these joyous, fiery people are dancing and singing on the roof of their run down apartments, while outside gangs of bored young men are wandering the basketball courts, and running towards trouble. 

It’s a cruel and inspired moment that when Anita is being assaulted later on, ‘America’ plays over the top. And the film is filled with these bitter ironies. The young men sing ‘Gee, Officer Krupke’, a comic pastiche of how society treats them, blissfully unaware of how they are actually showing how disillusioned, bored people can end up in trouble - and in jail. It’s even in the now infamous choreography, where they pirouette and spin elegantly, clicking their fingers, ballet moves representing the actual savagery of their actions. 

It does feel dated, and at times a little dusty - the Tony and Maria love-story is by far the least interesting thing in it, and Moreno aside, I’d still struggle to say the performances are anything further than good (the ending could be more powerful, I feel, if Natalie Wood had pushed it a little further and really gone for the emotion in the moment). But ultimately this is an influential and groundbreaking film, and watching it now, I really appreciated the clever lines it draws between the worlds we imagine for ourselves, versus the worlds we actually inhabit - and what happens when those two worlds collide. 

Highlight 

It has to be ‘America’ - a great, rip-roaring scream of a song, with huge passionate statements made about the inherent racism in America, balanced against the hope it can provide.

Lowlight

While Natalie Wood and Richard Beymer do their best as the two leads, their love story never feels as central to the plot as the huge gaping sets and scenery do. This is actually a film about the rough areas of New York and all the people who inhabit them. Romeo and Juliet it isn’t. 

Mark 

8/10

Paul says...

It’s now been 10 years (or rather, 10 blogging weeks) since we saw the first significant musical to win Best Picture, An American in Paris (we’re just going to pretend that 1929’s The Broadway Melody never happened). The 1951 Gene Kelly-winner was a film of its day. Brimming with colour, dance, silliness and beauty, the emphasis was very much on whimsical escapism and vaudeville-esque variety. A feast for the senses but not for the mind. Flash forward to 1961, and we have West Side Story. It is also brimming with colour, dance, silliness and beauty, but with some pretty heavy social commentary thrown in. We’re 34 years of Oscars ceremonies down the line now, and we’re now in a generation where children born post-World War II are becoming mid-teens and young adults. The youths of the late '50s and early '60s were raised in a rapidly-liberalising world by parents who had seen humanity at its worst. The gap between the young and old had never been wider.

So a musical that incorporates joyous song and dance with the rebellion of a disenfranchised youth, as well as gang warfare and racial tensions must have landed like a meteorite in the cinemas. Not only does West Side Story move the musical forward into more hard-hitting territory through its content, but also through its style. One moment we’re seeing gangs of young men throwing rocks and debris at each other on location in a desolate playground, the next swirling blurry dancers surround the in-focus lovers as their eyes meet across a dance floor. West Side Story takes the anything-is-possible surrealism of the 50’s musicals and injects some downtrodden set pieces, violence, sexual references and near-swear words that are far from attractive.

And really, it’s an astonishing piece of work. Most of the numbers are worth viewing as stand-alone pieces. “America”, “I’m So Pretty”, “Mambo” display choreography that is so intricate that it looks super-human, and super-speedy lyrics that show Stephen Sondheim’s powers of lyricism in their early days. They are a testament to the belief that, sometimes, music and movement are all you need to conjure the most complex and contradictory of emotions in your audience. Unlike Doug, I think the film’s ending is a masterclass in understatement and the power of wordlessness. I’m tearful every time I see it, and I like that the film doesn’t end on a bombastic reprise of the loudest song in the story, but rather a tender, quiet rendition of an earlier ballad, the heart-breaking “Somewhere”.

The film’s imperfections for me are firstly in the opening dance sequence. It is lengthy and it is meant to establish a culture of intimidation between gangs of disenchanted young men. But none of the actors particularly convey that knuckle-headed machismo needed to suggest hardened, semi-abused working class boys. I’m not quite sure why this is, but I think it’s something to do with their shiny white teeth, perfect hair, well-fitted clothes and pirouettes that would make Darcy Bussell head back to the rehearsal studio. Songs such as “Gee, Officer Krupke” give us far more insight into these characters than the Prologue, which really causes the film to stall a few times before it finally gets going. 

Secondly, the two leads are vastly overshadowed by the supporters. This is reflected in the fact that neither Richard Beymer nor Natalie Wood were nominated for acting Oscars, while George Chakiris and the incomparable Rita Moreno both won the supporting trophies. In fact, Beymer is generally criticised for his saccharine performance, and he would later admit that it was not how he wanted to play the role.

But for all its faults, West Side Story is a necessary watch for anyone. It’s a landmark musical, one of the first to deal with pertinent social issues, one that has rarely been surpassed in terms of energy, passion and power, and it is, quite frankly, a work of art.

Highlight

If you’re not driven to tears by “Somewhere” then you have a heart of stone and you probably need to be exorcised.

Lowlight

The opening dance sequence doesn’t quite do what it set out to achieve, but if you like fabulous dancing then you may end up prancing around your living room.

Mark

9/10

33. The Apartment (1960)

Plot Intro

C.C. “Bud” Baxter (Jack Lemmon) has a boring job in an insurance firm. To rise through the ranks, he loans out his apartment to his randy, adulterous executives who use it to entertain their various mistresses. This comes to the attention of his director, Sheldrake (Fred MacMurray), who wants to use the apartment exclusively for himself and his mistress, feisty elevator girl, Fran Kubelik (Shirley MacLaine). Unfortunately, Bud and Fran are starting to fall in love too, and Bud must choose between the woman he loves, and the prospects of his career…

Paul says...

As we enter the 1960’s, we take one last foray into black and white films (that is, until Schindler’s List in 1993). When we reviewed Gigi in 1958, I wrote about the slowly increasing resistance to the Hayes Code which prevented nudity and sex-references in movies since the mid-'30s. The Apartment is another marker in this resistance. 1960 was a year right in the middle of the youth revolution and increased liberalism. The Beatles, The Rolling Stones and Woodstock were right around the corner, and The Apartment is, in essence, a sex comedy. It’s a return to the suggestiveness and naughty gender-dynamics of It Happened One Night and whilst romantic comedies rarely get a look-in at the Oscars, it is still a symbol of how standards were starting to become less stuffy and more liberated. Although there’s no nudity, this is a film about men cheating on wives, dismissing the sentimentality and high moral values that permeated Mrs Miniver and The Best Years of Our Lives where married couples slept in separate beds and young couples didn’t dare live together until after marriage. It’s also worth noting that Hitchcock’s Psycho, which unified sex and violence, was also released this year.

And overall, this is a welcome refresher from several weeks of lengthy, stodgy epics. This is one of the more understated of the Oscar winners, in which writer Billy Wilder (also famous for Some Like It Hot) revels in his usual repeated one-line jokes, snappy dialogue which doesn’t mess around, and quick-wit. It is one of those films which has a very noticeably strong script. 

But he’s also helped along by the two leads. Lemmon is always reliably charming, and here he is at his most skilled because his character starts off as a snivelling, weak-willed, brown-noser. But we support him because, let’s face it, many of us have felt the need to bend over backwards to forward our careers. MacLaine, for me, is outstanding. She’s like Meg in Disney’s Hercules - feisty and sharp-witted, but vulnerable and kind-hearted. She effortlessly steals the scenes in which she is at her most tragic, but also has an element of fun. She is the modern 60’s woman- short haircut, self-sufficient, and aggressive towards any man who tries to grab her bottom. She’s already a contender for my favourite female performer of this decade.

Two minor issues bring the film down slightly. Firstly, it meanders plot-wise in the second half. The first half balances comedy and tragedy very well. It’s that kind of fun-sad combination that rises a romantic-comedy above just “funny” to the coveted status of “profound”. But the second half starts to deal with suicide and depression which makes it perhaps too heavy on the tragedy and there are some lengthy dialogue scenes that slow the pace. A quick cut-down of scenes could have made the film punchier and half an hour shorter. After all, sometimes less is more. Secondly, the film deals with battling against men in power who think they can keep women wrapped around their finger. This is pertinent in the wake of the various sexual harassment scandals of late-2017, but also uncomfortable because it is noticeably too light-hearted about powerful, lecherous men. Fran is the only mistress depicted in the film who is unhappy in her role as mistress- the others are gossipy, crude and just as bad as the adulterers they are cavorting with. And the men don’t get much of a comeuppance. The attitude is “using sex as a power tool is bad but hey! It happens!” whereas nowadays it would be dealt with in a more serious context.

Despite this, The Apartment is fun and edgy for its time. It boasts some fab acting, and it’s a great side-step from the usual 60’s fare of fluffy, big-budget musicals.

Highlight

MacLaine’s acting is generally the highlight for me. Especially her first scene with the primary villain, Sheldrake, in which she tries to end it with him despite still being in love with him. She is emotive and heartbreaking.

Lowlight

Like I said, the second half meanders slightly and could have done with some serious chopping. 

Mark

7/10

Doug says...

Radclyffe Hall was an author who published her novel The Well of Loneliness in 1928. It caused a massive scandal and was declared ‘obscene’ by British courts because it defended ‘unnatural practices between women’ - i.e. it’s a book about lesbians. It’s considered iconic because it was the first of its kind: a published novel about lesbian love. What’s fascinating about it, is that it’s pretty much universally declared an awful book. Radclyffe Hall was apparently a pretty dreadful writer, and so while the book has gained points for breaking new ground, the turgid and overblown writing has gathered its own negative acclaim. 

The Apartment feels pretty similar to this for me. It’s breaking extraordinary ground - as Paul says about the Hays Code - the central plot point of an attempted suicide feels shocking, having seen moral and strictly controlled plot subjects for several decades now. We see men casually talking about their affairs - and most importantly receiving no punishment for it. We see women openly vying to be the Other Woman - as one scene makes clear they can get $100 presents, and treated to nights out. And as Mad Men (a much more modern take on the same era) shows, women sometimes could see the benefit in being the adulterer rather than the stay-at-home wife. 

So we’re into a new era, and the subjects have got a lot grittier and more real. Baxter (Lemmon) lives in a small apartment and is shown eating ready meals in front of the TV. I think it’s actually the first time we see a character watching TV at home (fun fact: he’s watching Grand Hotel which was one of our films back in the ‘30s!), and there’s definitely an emphasis here on real people living real lives (the office scenes convey the sense of deadly dull corporate work lives - and perhaps proffer a reason as to why people are seeking excitement elsewhere). As Paul says, this is outdated - and the sexism (including talk of ‘I want her, and you don’t any more so I should get her’ - cringe) is painful at times. 

But here’s where Radclyffe Hall comes back in. While The Apartment is breaking ground and exciting, I don’t think it’s particularly well put together. While there’s a few laugh out loud moments - and a massive shout out has to go to Joan Shawlee who as another mistress Sylvia delivers some pithy one liners with so much joie-de-vivre that she made us cackle - a lot of the timing falls flat. There’s a scene where Baxter picks up a married woman at a bar, and the camera angles & style of performance make it clear it’s supposed to have Pinter-esque comedy - and yet the timing is slightly off and so the whole thing just feels a bit awkward. Lemmon does good work as a man going from someone you despise, to someone you root for, but he is one of a few that turn in decent performances. 

Overall the biggest disappointment for me was Shirley MacLaine. Here is a role that is brimming with opportunity and she turns in a placid, half-bored performance. I’ve got no problems with a quiet performance, but she’s so blank faced that she feels like Anne Baxter from All About Eve - but without the sinister undertones. I kept thinking about how much better it would be with a more skilled actor, and actually thought wistfully of Mercedes McCambridge in All The King’s Men who had a similar character but delivered it with so much more passion and drive that you ended up adoring her. 

Not a boring watch, and great for a lazy Sunday afternoon, but I walked away still unsure why this would win the Best Picture Award. I imagine it’s the edgy subject topics, and the little moments - such as when a jealous secretary makes trouble towards the end of the film - that snatched it. Groundbreaking? Certainly. Deserving of awards? Not so sure.

Highlight

I’ve said it already, but Joan Shawlee as Sylvia, coming out of the lift at the office Christmas party delivering the line: ‘either you get a bigger car or a smaller girl’ is perfection. 

Lowlight

Shirley Maclaine. She took a part that could have been extraordinary and turned in a passable performance. Just imagine what the likes of Emma Stone could do with that role…

Mark

5/10

The PAD Awards: 1950s

Our ten winning films from 1950 - 1959

At the end of another decade, it's time for our decade-regular PAD (Paul and Doug) awards. A glittering ceremony with such stars as Bette Davis, James Stewart and Marlon Brando, we opened with the finest discount prosecco from Co-Op, and our first award...

Least Favourite Film 

Paul says: Gigi

Gigi is an obvious choice, perhaps, bearing in mind that it was my lowest mark. But From Here to Eternity came a close bottom-second. On reflection, the problem with Gigi is that it’s very much a musical of its time - so forcibly whimsical to the point where old men are singing about young girls, and the repression of women is a good excuse for a humorous vignettes and jolly songs. The story is trite and loses its way completely, and really its just a glossy mess. One saving grace is Leslie Caron’s efforts to engage us with the title character - it’s a shame that the script doesn’t give her a lot to work on. 

Doug says: An American in Paris 

Looking back over the decade is an interesting experience as we’ve had some of the most vibrant, interesting pieces yet, which only serves to make it more obvious when we have a proper clunker land. An American in Paris feels on reflection to be a dated piece that doesn’t bother with character depth, and thinks by throwing lots of colour and light at the audience, they’ll be dazzled enough not to care that there’s nothing much behind it. And I’m sure at the time they were - after so many black and white films, we were grateful for a bit of a change. But this eventually turned out to be an elaborate facade and feels more empty every time I think about it.  

Favourite Male Performance 

Paul says: James Stewart in The Greatest Show on Earth

Initially this was a toss-up between Ernest Borgnine in Marty and Alec Guinness in The Bridge on the River Kwai. However, one performance has stuck with me from the early films of the ’50s and it’s not even a leading role. I’ve always loved to gush over a supporting actor or actress who manages to surpass their leads. Whoopi Goldberg in Ghost, Maggie Smith in Gosford Park and Judi Dench in Shakespeare in Love are some prime examples. As such, my favourite male performance is James Stewart as the clown with a dark secret in The Greatest Show on Earth. He is a tender, nuanced counterbalance to the staggering, unsubtle spectacle that is the rest of the film. The character’s secret, when revealed, draws attention to a very controversial social issue that is still discussed with great contention today. It may be brief, but it’s memorable, and his eventual ending is by far the most powerful moment of the film.

Doug says: Ernest Borgnine, 
in Marty

It’s the first time that I’ve been torn between a few male performances since we’ve started this project, and honourable mentions have to go to Alec Guinness (Bridge over the River Kwai) and Charlton Heston (Ben Hur) for their great turns. I was particularly torn by Sessue Hayakawa whose villainous Colonel Saito was beautifully rounded and deserved more from the script. 

But ultimately there was one winner, and Ernest Borgnine played Marty with such tenderness and care that we rooted for him to pull through and find love within just over an hour. I think the moment I knew he would be this decade’s winner was the moment he broke down and delivered a speech about how he was ugly and hideous and didn’t deserve love. It’s a sentiment still very much around in today’s superficial world, and Borgnine caught the rage and tragedy of the sentiment with such accuracy, that I found myself close to tears. A quiet, unmissable turn that lasted a lot longer than some of the pyrotechnics of this decade. 

Favourite Female Performance 

Paul says: Anne Baxter, in All About Eve 

On my first viewing of All About Eve many moons ago, Bette Davis was the face and voice that I recalled with obsessive detail. On my second viewing, she was just as fun, feisty and fabulous as before, but Anne Baxter as the titular Eve fascinated me far more. Her blank-faced, soft-spoken performance is sinister, addictive and sometimes downright frightening. You can see her very easily through the eyes of Bette Davis- she comes across nervous and innocent but soon becomes unnerving and untrustworthy in her unending devotion and enviable ability to appease everyone. Considering that my last decade’s top female was the phenomenally evil Judith Anderson in Rebecca, I obviously have a penchant for scary, snake-like women. Who knew?! Shout-out to Betsy Blair in Marty and the Queen Bette Davis herself in All About Eve.

Doug says: Bette Davis, in 

All About Eve

There’s only one winner here for this. It’s remarkable because this is the decade that we’re discovering ‘naturalism’ in and it’s a performance rooted in melodrama that steals the win. But what Davis does with such extraordinary flair is match her over the top performance with tiny fragments of actual poignancy and realness, that we are thoroughly invested in her performance always. It’s a show of flouncing hair, devastating epithets, and swirling cocktails, and Davis at its core delivers a fiery performance that for me leaves everything burning in her wake. 

Side note: A friend watched this on my recommendation and noted how utterly feminist a piece it is. Three women are at its core (Bette Davis, Anne Baxter and Celeste Holme) and the men are merely chess pieces. Even more reason to love it! 

Favourite Film 

Paul says: Bridge Over the River Kwai 

I gave two 10’s throughout the ’50s, to two very different films. Marty was a sweet-natured, simple, naturalistic depiction of awkward humans falling in love. And who wouldn’t be entranced by something as charming as that?! But what tipped the scale in favour of character-driven war epic, The Bridge on the River Kwai, were several factors. Firstly the stunning central performance from Alec Guinness who manages to make a jobs-worthy, rule-book-loving bore into a figure of admiration and support. Secondly, a structure and bearable length that both takes its time but builds incredible tension. And thirdly, the big questions the film brings up - how does one win a war? How should one fight a war? What is national superiority? And how on Earth can Western soldiers fight in trousers in that oppressive Malaysian heat? It’s deep stuff - and a terrific film for a Sunday afternoon.

Doug says: All About Eve 

I thought about this one long and hard, and was so tempted to give the prize to The Greatest Show On Earth which was a piece I enjoyed heartily and was surprised by. Having said this, this is the one film that I remember the most, was drawn into, and want to watch again. Bette Davis delivers a star turn, but as Paul says - Anne Baxter matches her in her own sinister turn, and you have a host of characters including the sharp-tongued Birdie and a baby Marilyn Monroe in her first (terrified) screen performance. It’s a story of ageing, and fear of being replaced, and the savage ending makes it clear that Eve is only one in a chain of young actresses each trying to outdo the next. And perhaps the best thing one could do is…get out of the game altogether. The loud dramatic scenes are neatly curtailed by subtle quiet ones - I’m thinking of Celeste Holme and Bette Davis in their fur coats in a broken down car pouring out their hearts - and there’s enough camp lines to make a gay man purr. ‘Fasten your seatbelts,’ indeed - it makes for a wonderful night. 

Average Film Scores 

Paul: 7.05/10

Doug: 6