Plot Intro
Dr Curtis Luther (Lee J. Cobb), a well-known psychiatrist, receives a visit from a woman named Eve White (Joanne Woodward) and her husband Ralph (David Wayne). They are concerned about Eve’s apparent memory loss. But Luther quickly discovers that Eve has Dissociative Identity Disorder, and has an alternative personality named Eve Black who slips in and out of consciousness. He dedicates himself to working with both Eves to try and cure the condition- but this is further complicated when a third personality reveals itself.
A 1950s film dealing with the complexities of dissociative identity disorder? What could go wrong?
Actually, in a surprising twist, The Three Faces of Eve manages to sidestep a lot of the problematic ways they could have dramatised this true story, avoiding making any of Eve’s personalities ‘evil’ or ‘twisted’ (as I was steeling myself for). Mental health is often belittled or demonised in films from the past century so it was a pleasant change to see the production team and crew make clear choices to not go down that route and actually show the intriguing complexities of someone dealing with what was then known as multiple personality disorder.
It’s obviously simplified, and indeed the real ‘Eve’ spoke out against the film afterwards, and actually re-sought treatment in the 1970s which discovered her issues weren’t as simple as this film lays out. But I think there should be credit for trying to present the condition as it actually is - reinforced by a somewhat dry introduction given by a real medical professional at the start of the film.
For me it’s an introduction to Joanne Woodward too and at first (as she plays Eve White: the dowdy sad housewife), I was wondering exactly how she garnered so much praise for what seemed quite forgettable. But actually it’s a masterstroke - she allows the audience to slightly dislike her for her boring, stuffy demeanour which then utterly reverses as the fun-loving attention-seeking Eve Black. Everything from her body language to her eye movements shift (and then again as the third ‘face’ Jane). It’s brilliant - three distinct, clearly drawn and rounded characters that Woodward flips between swiftly in scenes. We’re never in doubt as to who we’re currently witnessing which is very hard to pull off successfully.
There are some sub-plots that feel a bit half-baked, most notably Eve White’s husband being sexually attracted to Eve Black (and the weirdest infidelity-style storyline one might experience) but overall the writers stick cleanly to the main story, unfurling it quickly over ninety minutes. It does feel a bit more documentary than drama, but frankly I’d rather that than a sensationalised and damaging misinterpretation of complex mental health (which I was expecting this to be).
The ways Woodward snaps between characters and the moments of likeability she finds in each persona are impressive. It’s not showy but it allows her to display real versatility in a way I can understand the Oscars crowd finding deeply impressive.
The dry documentary feel somewhat lessens the impact of the story, which is preferable to a damaging over-dramatised take, but I do think there could have been someway to liven the story without ethically compromising it.
Mark
7/10
Like Doug, I was struck by the objective and sensitive manner in which this film tackles a real mental health condition. Horror and Science Fiction writers in particular often sensationalise Dissociative Identity Disorder, usually called Multiple or Split Personality, rendering at least one personality as psychopathic or evil in a Jekyll and Hyde way. The truth is that this is a real mental health condition, one that is not related to crime or sociopathy and one that can cause enormous stress for the people who have it and their loved ones. The rather dry and self-important narrator is pretty superfluous but it does at least lend an air of authenticity and objectivity to the film, making it more of a documentary, even if it’s not the most exciting or pacy of works.
Indeed, this is further exemplified by the subdued performances of the cast around Eve, allowing her to take centre stage so that her condition can be presented and discussed. Lee J. Cobb is usually a very larger-than-life, passionate actor as seen playing controlling villains in Twelve Angry Men and On the Waterfront. But here he is unusually soft-spoken and gentle.
Plus Joanne Woodward’s performance is fantastic. She manages to construct three very distinct women through her voice and body language and slips between them effortlessly. After the death of Olivia de Havilland, she is now the earliest Best Actress winner to still be with us, now aged 92 but unfortunately living with Alzheimers. She has played many roles although she is probably best known for this film and for being married to Paul Newman from 1958 until his death in 2008. They were apparently notorious for spending a lot of time bonking (they’re both absolute 10s so who can blame them?) and for their faithfulness to each other, something which Newman referenced when he once stated “I have steak at home; why go out for hamburger?” Despite the compliment, Woodward apparently hated this statement.
Where the film leaves a rather bad taste in the mouth is its ending which, after a quick bit of research, turns out to be false and created by writers with nowhere near enough knowledge of mental health. The three Eves realise that her condition stems from an event in her childhood in which she was forced by her mother to kiss the corpse of her Grandmother goodbye at the latter’s funeral. The trauma developed her alternative personalities. This realisation immediately causes Eve White and Eve Black to disappear leaving the third and, apparently, original Eve alone who drives off into the sunset with her new handsome boyfriend.
Perhaps this is possible (I’m no psychiatrist), but it isn’t what happened. The real Eve, who until the 70s remained anonymous, had actually witnessed two deaths and a traumatising accident. The doctors treating her signed the rights to her life story in 1956 and both their book and this film, based on the book, were released in 1957. 20 years later, “Eve” herself published a new book, titled I’m Eve, revealing her name to be Chris Costner Sizemore. She claimed that her doctors in the 50s had exploited her to capitalise on her condition and make money out of it through the book and the film. Psychiatric conditions were, indeed, a hot topic in the ‘50s, as the Second World War had led to a great deal of research into the mental health of soldiers and clearer definitions of ADHD, OCD, Anxiety and many others were being constructed. She also stated that they never cured her of the condition. In fact, it wasn’t until her treatment in the ‘70s that she discovered that she had not three but more than 20 and started to reconcile them and take control of her life.
Sizemore died in 2016, managing to get a court settlement for the doctors signing away her life story, and leaving behind a multitude of published and unpublished writings that have helped psychiatric researchers.
It is a shame that the film is steeped in these uncomfortable subsequent events. It renders the ending insincere and rather egotistical, with the writers trying to say “Look how clever these Doctors are, they cured her!” when it later transpired that they did not. Whilst I think we should forgive films for reshaping real, historic events in the name of entertainment, it crosses an invisible line when that reshaping becomes exploitative and irresponsible. Hopefully Sizemore had a fulfilling and happy life regardless.
Woodward’s performance, especially the final scene in which she flips between all three Eves several times.
Pretty much anything that happened after the film was released.
No comments:
Post a Comment