Favorite Actresses, #6: Susan Hayward

First Movie I Saw Her In: Top Secret Affair (1957)

Three Favorite Movies: The Lusty Men (1952); I’ll Cry Tomorrow (1955); I Want to Live! (1958)

Honorable Mention: Garden of Evil (1954)

Favorite Performance: I Want to Live (1958)

Why I Like Her: Susan Hayward is my favorite 1950s actress, even though she’s a recent discovery for me. She opened up my interest in 1950s actresses whom I had previously categorized as the mousy housewife (June Allyson) and the breathless sexpot (Marilyn Monroe). There had to be something more than those options. Susan Hayward opened up the possibilities and also threw out my dopey generalizations about those aforementioned actresses and the 1950s in general.

I first decided I liked her when I saw her “lighter side” in the 1957 comedy Top Secret Affair. It turned out to be a great introduction because I was only aware of her as a gutsy, leave-it-all-on-the-screen actress. The fact that Hayward and co-star Kirk Douglas both reined in their intense acting styles and the resulting fun romantic comedy showed a side of Hayward’s not often seen. From there my exploration into Hayward’s career continued with her Oscar nominated roles. Hayward played real-life singers twice and received acclaim: 1952’s With a Song in My Heart and 1955’s I’ll Cry Tomorrow. For the latter, Hayward finally conquered her fear of not being good enough and agreed to do her own singing; the results were stellar. The soundtrack CD of I’ll Cry Tomorrow features a Hayward vocal of the title tune not heard in the film but was issued on a LP compilation. Her voice is haunting and her phrasing is brilliant; here was a singer who knew the lyrics’ meaning, too.

Hayward exuded a tough but tender character that made her stand out from her contemporaries. Her performances are often over-the-top but when Hayward’s doing it, all is forgiven. She excelled at playing tragic, boozy characters—and they were often real people! Hayward’s Oscar-winning role as real-life convicted killer Barbara Graham in I Want to Live! has grown mythic in recent years and has been acknowledged as one of the 1950s greatest performances. I can count on one hand the number of performances where an actress or actor in question owns every frame in which they appear. Susan Hayward’s tremendous performance in I Want to Live is one of them. Her Oscar win was the culmination of twenty years of Hollywood toiling before she essentially rode off into the sunset with this career-defining role.

What keeps Susan Hayward from being higher on this list is the paucity of light, comedic roles. I know the talent was there and it’s a shame whenever an actor’s career isn’t fully realized. She accomplished a great deal but I’d love to have seen more diversity in her work. Besides, I'm a sucker for a gal with a great sense of humor. However, when I'm in that heavy drama mood, Susan's the one.

Favorite Actresses, #7: Gail Patrick

First Movie I Saw Her In: My Man Godfrey (1936)

Three Favorite Movies: My Man Godfrey (1936); Stage Door (1937); Love Crazy (1941);

Honorable Mention: My Favorite Wife (1940)

Favorite Performance: Love Crazy (1941)

Why I Like Her: Okay, so this entry's a bit of a cheat. However, anyone who still reads this blog knows how I feel about Gail Patrick. In fact, I've written so much about her here in the Deco Dame series that another entry extolling this amazing woman's virtues would be repetitous. So, we direct you to this entry, which was originally written for the Silents and Talkies blog last Summer (thanks again, Kate!). It should also be mentioned that Gail Patrick is the only non-leading lady (though she did have a few) to make the top ten list. If I had more access to her films she would no doubt be higher up in the ranking. A biography would be nice, too.

One thing I'd like to add, though, is upon reflection, Gail is the one actress that first made me realize how great that 1930s era was for movies and for women performers. No decade produced such a varied field of brilliant actresses, wise-cracking dames, and godesses of beauty, wit, and intelligence. When you read Gail Patrick's biography you'll get to know about one of the great examples of the "strong woman" in real life, as well as on the screen.

Favorite Actresses, #8: Claire Trevor

First Movie I Saw Her In: Born to Kill (1947)

Three Favorite Movies: Born to Kill (1947); Key Largo (1948); Raw Deal (1948)

Honorable Mention: Murder My Sweet (1944)

Favorite Performance: Key Largo (1948)

Why I Like Her: What a woman! I'm a sap for any dame who's an "unconventional" beauty. Claire Trevor just represents so much of what I like about actresses from the 1930s-40s. Despite being an Oscar winner, she's one of the great but forgotten actresses of her era. She made her mark playing the “Hooker with a heart of gold” in Stagecoach (1939) but it was her tough, sultry demeanor that made its mark on me. Claire Trevor doesn’t have the popularity as other noir actresses do. She wasn’t the sex kitten that, say, Gloria Grahame was, but Claire Trevor played the “lived in” and vulnerable character better than anybody. I find her quite attractive but Trevor’s also underrated in the beauty dept., She’s absolutely stunning in Murder My Sweet, a film I’m not crazy about—I’m spoiled by the novel—but she mesmerizing with her blonde hair and black outfits both of which look amazing in black & white photography.

Claire Trevor could work both ends of the character spectrum in that she could be sympathetic in one film and completely dark with villainy in the other. I admire her ability to be bad but it’s her sad, sympathetic roles that I like best. In her Oscar-winning performance in Key Largo, Trevor plays Gaye Dawn, a mobster’s moll way past her prime who’s now reduced to a pathetic and boozy shell of a woman. Her eyes are glassy and filled with the sorrow of a life wasted. The scene where Edward G. Robinson makes her sing is one of the most humiliating things I’ve ever seen in a noir film. I’m embarrassed for her character. Robinson’s reaction to Gaye’s “singing” makes it all the sadder as he actually expected the pathetic display he forced her into. I consider Key Largo one of the greatest films where what isn't said says volumes more than other films with double the dialogue. Claire Trevor excelled at this type of role and Key Largo fit her strengths perfectly.

She had a dark, tough way about her (watch her in Born to Kill!) but she was vulnerable just under the surface. She had a “lived in” look that conveyed both experience and a variety of emotions from a life filled with regret. She could do more with her eyes in a scene than most actors could with a monologue and showy direction. A lot of times I’ll be ignoring the other performers just to see how Trevor is reacting, usually without saying a word or even moving! Charisma and screen presence can’t be taught and what Claire Trevor does isn’t scene-stealing or scenery chewing; she’s just a force on the silver screen. That’s what I love about 1940s films: so much was expressed through innuendo or timing or even silence. Claire Trevor doesn’t come off as real and even when she goes into the more melodramatic parts of a role, I just enjoy being the audience for a Claire Trevor performance.

It just so happens that RD Finch of the excellent Movie Projector blog has written a review of Raw Deal today.

Ah-rooo-gah: Claire Trevor was deceptively gorgeous.

Favorite Actresses, #9: Jean Arthur

That's right, another favorite actress named Jean.


First Movie I Saw Her In: Shane (1953)

Three Favorite Movies: Mr. Deeds Goes to Town (1936); Easy Living (1937); You Can’t Take It with You (1938)

Honorable Mention: Only Angels Have Wings (1939)

Favorite Performance: Easy Living (1937)

Why I Like Her: My reasons might be reactionary in that everything I like about Jean Arthur is what her detractors dislike! They say she wasn’t pretty, whereas I think she’s beautiful. Others dislike her speaking voice, yet I adore it. And seeing as Arthur so often played comedic roles, it suited her perfectly, but she’s equally tremendous in dramatic parts, adding a sense of urgency to the characters she’s playing (Only Angels Have Wings is a fine example of this).

Jean Arthur was an underdog in every sense of the word, with those aforementioned “handicaps” presumably working against her, she still managed to be involved with many of the 1930s greatest films. Her work with Frank Capra alone would cement her immortality in these eyes. Her impeccable line delivery is a joy to behold. You can “hear” her thinking when she’s a character. Arthur, (along with Irene Dunne) had this quality where you never saw her acting. Comedic actresses who take on dramatic roles almost never get the credit or awards that predominantly dramatic performers get for the odd comedy part. Comedy always gets the short end, doesn’t it?

One of her best attributes was being able to “sell the drama” in any given situation. When Arthur did this, there was no sign of the daffy screwball comedienne; it was an impressive transformation. She was excellent at the dramatic speech in that she could give an impassioned “pep talk” to the likes of Gary Cooper or James Stewart in what could be viewed as a sort of “strong woman behind the man.” She often came off as the female best friend of the protagonist as well as their conscience. Not many actresses from the Golden Age had these multilayered character traits.

Jean Arthur’s last film was 1953’s Shane, though she was largely retired from movies at the height of her career in 1944. Arthur appeared in 1948’s A Foreign Affair (dir. Billy Wilder) and 1953’s Shane (dir. George Stevens), working for two legendary directors wasn’t a bad way call it a movie career. Arthur would try her hand at television with 1966’s The Jean Arthur Show, which lasted all of eleven episodes.

Jean Arthur also qualifies for Miserable Sod status, as she came off as perpetually unhappy in her private life, with two failed marriages and endless doubts about her abilities as a performer: “I guess I became an actress because I didn't want to be myself.” Whatever it was that bothered her, it didn’t interfere with Jean the actress, whom I’ve grown to enjoy a whole lot in only a short time.

Does anyone have an unadulterated copy of this photo?