Bette Davis, The Star

The challenge in digesting a performance like Bette Davis' in The Star lies in the fact that it inherently conflicts with two dimensions of who I am as an individual. A moviegoer with a more modernist, art house-leaning eye might view Davis' performance as a relic of its time, one riddled with such grossly melodramatic narrative devices that it veers into farcical parody. A more lax moviegoer (dare I say, of the homosexual variety) might see Davis' performance as a fun, campy joyride - the film a befitting vehicle for an inherently dramatic diva to showcase all the qualities to which her fandom admires her for.

Bette Davis, All About Eve

as Margo Channing

Won: New York Film Critics Circle - Best Actress • Cannes Film Festival - Best Actress

At long last, we’ve come to Bette Davis. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about this performance and have attempted this write-up 3+ times, only to give up and shelve it away for a later time.

Why? Because this is a performance that has been praised to the high heavens, and yet…it’s played in quite a straightforward manner. It's executed in such a way that is potent but far from what one might deem as “mind blowing” or “revelatory.” Unlike the likes of Gloria Swanson and Judy Holliday, Davis isn’t projecting a character with eyesore and ear sore idiosyncrasies. She is playing Margo Channing forthright. Simply put, Davis does not transform into “Margo Channing” - she instead takes the character and shape-shifts it to fit a “Bette Davis” mold. The beauty of it all is that the character is a perfect fit to the actress - Davis may very well be playing herself, but this is an instance in which both character and actress persona fuse together seamlessly.

Bette Davis, Mr. Skeffington

as FANNY TRELLIS / MRS. SKEFFINGTON

Mr. Skeffington is often regarded as one of Bette Davis' worst nominations, a glaring example of just how hard the Academy mistook ubiquity for quality during this frustratingly repetitive decade. And after finishing the film, I'll agree that this is definitely the least deserving of the eight nominations I've watched and reviewed of Davis' thus far. As the horridly vain and selfish Fanny Trellis, Davis comes to Mr. Skeffington with an approach that straddles a fine line between annoying and unbearable, but I'll be damned if I didn't have fun watching her!

Bette Davis, Now, Voyager

as CHARLOTTE VALE

"Oh Jerry, don't let's ask for the moon. We have the stars." so utters miss Bette Davis in that iconic final line of Now, Voyager. In a way the line brings meaning to my relationship with Davis thus far, this being her seventh performance I've written up in a little over a year. (Bette is leading the pack as the most covered actress on this blog, with good 'ole Kate Hepburn right behind her) It's been strange--I think I always come into a Bette Davis film expecting her to give me the moon, and am subsequently disappointed when she serves me with stars instead. As a result my patience with her has gradually worn thin as of late, and thus I came into Now, Voyager... expecting stars. And of course, Davis served me those stars, but what a great set of stars they were.

Bette Davis, The Little Foxes

as REGINA GIDDENS

By now, after having seen her do cantankerous in Of Human Bondage, reckless in Dangerous, manipulative in Jezebel, and murderous in The Letter, watching Bette Davis play "bad" doesn't really phase me anymore. But here we are: another year, another Oscar nomination, and another fierce heroine who can work men with aplomb. I came into The Little Foxes rather fatigued by Davis, though knowing very well that her performance is highly regarded by the internet as well as other Oscar bloggers. So I watched the film, carefully absorbing what I was seeing, and then I had to watch it again, to make proper sense of how I felt about what I was seeing.

Bette Davis, The Letter

as LESLIE CROSBIE

Watching Bette Davis strut out onto her veranda, gun in hand, shooting viciously at a man who has scorned her love, her face stone-cold with loathing and eaten by the dark of the night...what more could a person who obsesses over actress possibly ask for? After having watched the 1929 version of The Letter, my anticipation was high for this one, because of all the major Hollywood stars at the time, Davis' brand of explosive treachery made the most sense for a character as dangerous and cunning as Leslie Crosbie, one of the most exciting female characters I've seen from the pre-code era. So I turned on the film and watched, and waited for Davis to allow the spirit of Jeanne Eagels to live on through her.

Bette Davis, Dark Victory

as JUDITH TRAHERNE

Inside Oscar states that "when Dark Victory opened early in the year, most of Hollywood conceded that the Best Actress Oscar was now spoken for..." But Judith Traherne is a remarkably juicy role, the kind that could garner notices when played by much lesser actresses--the drama associated with finding out that you've got an incurable brain tumor pretty much ensures that. The New York Times in 1939 concurred, saying that "admittedly it is a great role--rangy, full-bodied, designed for a virtuosa, almost sure to invite the faint damning of "tour de force"..." before mentioning that "that must not detract from the eloquence, the tenderness, the heartbreaking sincerity with which [Bette Davis] has played it. We do not belittle an actress to remark upon her great opportunity; what matters is that she has made the utmost of it." I've read a lot of praise for Bette here, so much so that it made me feel very strange when I ended up not liking it as much as I felt I ought to have.

Bette Davis, Jezebel

as JULIE MARSDEN

It seems unfortunately inopportune that Bette Davis won her second and final Oscar for a 1938 film. Because if Of Human Bondage indicated the arrival of a star and Dangerous existed to represent the official crowning of a star, then Jezebel is really just Davis warming up for the superstar phase of her career. There were so many iconic roles and films awaiting Davis in the decades ahead and yet she would never win another statue again. On top of that, any significance made by Jezebel and Julie Marsden would forever be trumped by Gone with the Wind and Scarlett O'Hara the following year.

Bette Davis, Dangerous

as JOYCE HEATH

Won: Academy Award - Best Actress

After Bette Davis' controversial snub in 1934, after the Academy's conceding decision to allow write-in votes practically on her behalf, and after her subsequent loss to Claudette Colbert, it was only natural that Davis would land herself an Oscar when the next opportunity presented itself. Chances are that it didn't matter if she put out the best performance ever recorded on screen or if she put out a Coquette/Black Fury-caliber disaster; they had done her wrong and it was now time to make things right. Thus, with her victory, Davis became the very first example of an actor who was handed the prize to make up for a prior loss, and she was quite possibly the first actor to bear "overdue" voter mentality, that tiresome term that Oscar enthusiasts like you and myself are all too familiar with. And as we know, more often than not in these situations, make-up Oscars tend to be given to performances that leave a lot to be desired. This particular performance is just that.

Bette Davis, Of Human Bondage

as MILDRED ROGERS

Bette Davis in Of Human Bondage is a performance that took the cinematic world by storm in 1934. This is a performance that the folks at Life Magazine cited as "probably the best performance ever recorded on the screen by a U.S. actress." This is a performance that so impressed the people of Hollywood that when Davis was unexpectedly denied a Best Actress nomination, there was such a backlash that the Academy was forced to allow write-in votes just so she could be in contention. I wanted to give Davis the typical nominee treatment despite her work not being an official Oscar-nominated performance firstly because she ending up getting enough write-in votes that year to place third, bumping out actual nominee Grace Moore into fourth. But above all, I wanted to honor this performance in appreciation of the legendary Miss Davis--a lady who wanted nothing more at the time than to nab roles in which she could sink her teeth into, to showcase the range and talent she knew she had--the very range and talent that Warner Bros. was stifling. This was the performance that got Oscar to notice her, whether he wanted to or not, and she would continue to get him to notice her for upwards of the next quarter century.