Plot Intro
For Lola (Shirley Booth) and Doc Delaney (Burt Lancaster), a middle-aged suburban couple, life hasn’t quite gone to plan. Doc was once a promising medical student who dropped out of college and married Lola when she became pregnant with his child. Lola, once pretty and fun, lost the baby and now can’t have children. The two live a rather lonely, quiet existence, and both struggle to cope with Doc’s evident drinking problem. Lola rents a room in their house to a college student, Marie (Terry Moore), whose youth and vivacity provides an insight into the life they could have had. Lola and Doc must now both make peace with the paths they have endured, or become consumed by regret.
At the age of 54, Come Back, Little Sheba was Shirley Booth’s movie debut. She would only participate in five movies throughout her career (all within the 1950s), but she achieved phenomenal success in the world of theatre and television. In fact, her brief dive into Hollywood made her one of just 24 people to win the Triple Crown of Acting (at least one Oscar, one Emmy and one Tony). Other Best Actress winners to also achieve this are Helen Hayes, Ingrid Bergman, Jessica Tandy, Anne Bancroft, Maggie Smith, Ellen Burstyn, Helen Mirren, Frances McDormand, Jessica Lange and Glenda Jackson. In fact, far more women than men have won the Triple Crown, potentially proving that women have much more versatility in the performing arts.
Shirley was also, at the time of her win, the second oldest Best Actress winner. As I have addressed before when we wrote about Marie Dressler (who was the oldest winner for 51 years), the average age of a Best Actress winner is, rather unsurprisingly, significantly younger than that of a Best Actor winner. So 54 is an incredible age at which to enter the heights of Hollywood stardom.
It was the character of Lola Delaney that actually put Shirley onto the Hollywood map. She had originated the role on Broadway in 1950 to great acclaim and had already won a Tony for it. So it may come as no surprise that Shirley is absolutely astonishingly good in this, and if you’re not shedding a tear by the end then there’s something wrong with you. She encapsulates a woman with a multitude of regrets and worries desperately trying to keep going despite her husband’s detachment and alcoholism and her own stifling loneliness. Shirley injects great nervousness through her body language and hand gestures. Subtle additions such as the way she moves past the staircase by awkwardly holding onto it for support create incredible sympathy for the character.
The character is not someone in mortal peril like Bergman in Gaslight, or at the centre of evil male machinations like Havilland in The Heiress. Nor is she prone to accusations of murder like Crawford in Mildred Pierce. This is a more nuanced piece about someone who has had so many set-backs. She was shunned by her father for getting pregnant, she then lost the baby, she has limited support for her husband’s mental health and alcoholism. As a housewife, she has almost no friends, hobbies or aspirations, and, to make matters worse, the Little Sheba of the title is her pet dog who RAN AWAY FROM HER. Admittedly, this is a rather manipulative bit of sentimentality. I mean, throw a dog into anything and suddenly emotions run much higher than they normally would. But, thankfully, it’s not overplayed, and Little Sheba becomes a symbol of Lola’s potential life, a life that she gradually has to let go of. The film is all about making peace with what you have, and accepting that the life you dreamed of hasn’t happened through no fault of your own. This is a lesson that, in an age of social media where everyone seems to be “hashtag living their best life” except you, is still very pertinent.
Burt Lancaster also does a sterling job as her husband. On the face of it, he’s very miscast. The character is meant to be in his mid-50s but Lancaster was 38 and looks it. Apparently the producers’ first choice was Spencer Tracy who probably would have been more appropriate (and, unlike Lancaster, may have nabbed an Oscar nomination too). But Lancaster at least does well at not turning Doc into a total monster. He has pretty much the same demons as Lola, all zipping around him saying “You could have been a doctor, your life could have been better, you’re a failure etc etc”. And Lancaster ensures that we see his melancholy so that when he does confront Lola violently after a drinking sesh, it’s frightening but you don’t hate him for it.
Themes such as alcoholism are often represented rather clumsily, with lashings of melodrama and hysteria, in films of this period but this film doesn’t descend into that. The post-war period certainly brought to light topics such as mental health, addiction and abuse at a time when society was reevaluating itself, so perhaps we’re finally entering a time when an increased awareness and knowledge of these things is filtering into the performing arts.
Shirley continued mostly to work in TV and theatre after her success with Little Sheba. I suppose the ageism in Hollywood stopped her from continuing with a career in movies, or perhaps she made that choice of her own accord. Either way, she has one of the steadiest and most respected careers of all the Best Actress winners. She retired from acting in 1974 but didn’t pass away until 1992 at the age of 94.
The scenes in which Lola, alone on her porch, calls out to Little Sheba in the vain hopes that her dog will return, are handled very well by Shirley. It could have turned into some kind of cloying Dickensian schmaltz but we are reminded constantly that Sheba is more symbolic than canine.
Nothing much at all really. Even the supporting characters are pretty engaging and the alcoholism is dealt with realistically and sensitively (unusual for a film of its time).
We approached this one with slight trepidation, the sense that here might be another maudlin overly depressing story in which the heroine is put through the emotional wringer so that the actress playing her can nab an Oscar.
And in one sense we were right, but Little Sheba actually goes a lot further and does a lot more than the average Oscar-bait.
Shirley Booth is tremendous, giving a performance that is clearly honed by months of stage performance. It’s both physical and ephemeral - her stooped body and nervous tics mixed with the unrelenting loneliness that she shows through her desperation to talk to her rude neighbour, the postman - anyone that might for a moment lift the gloom. Loneliness can be incredibly hard to witness (anyone who’s read the bestselling ‘Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine’ will know that) and what hurts more is that Lola is a lovely, caring person in what is clearly a dead marriage, without friends or company or occupation. She clings desperately to those around her and only chastises herself as they inevitably shrug her off. It’s incredibly painful to watch.
This film has a great deal to say about youth and beauty and sex too - much like the much more recent Call Me By Your Name - with a younger, sexier couple constantly compared to the dry, stale marriage of Lola and Doc. But where the film excels itself is by showing glimpses of the vitality and exuberance that Lola once had - a moment where she dances to the radio is both incredibly uplifting in her joyous rendition, and equally tragic as she dances happily while in her drab everyday attire and her husband laughs and claps until someone else comes in when he immediately puts a stop to it. Equally she dances by herself to the radio - in the absence of anything else, she finds ways to enjoy herself.
Burt Lancaster matches her well despite being obviously too young for the role. At first I thought he was lusting after the younger Marie, but it’s clearly more complex than that - with a fatherly attitude he seems to long to have a child to counsel and advise. Instead he of course sinks back into alcoholism after doing well at AA, and ends up chasing his wife drunkenly round the kitchen with a knife until she calls for help.
The last scene is both tragically unhappy and hopeful. Lola realises she needs to put the treasures of her past behind her - whether it’s her long lost dog Little Sheba, or her longing for youth and her beauty. Equally her husband realises he needs to listen to her, to engage with her - to provide some respite from the cruel, empty loneliness that Lola has survived in (one feels) for decades. It ends with hope that there is a better future, but also sadness that there was youth and beauty which was wasted and not given its full choice. Booth’s pared back performance and instinctual line delivery rendered me into full on sobs - much to Paul’s surprise!
A beautifully delivered, very powerful film focusing on these two characters and the sadness in which they have marinated for too long. Booth is extraordinary.
The moment when Lola and Doc break free of their everyday gloom and dance to the radio recalls the same bittersweet energy in Friel’s Dancing at Lughnasa. It’s painful yet uplifting all at once.
None - it was a sublime piece of work.
Mark
10/10
