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Film review: All About Eve (1950)
Reviewing All About Eve is difficult for me, as it is most of my favorite movies. I find objectivity difficult to maintain when I’m so delighted by the very thought of the film. But maybe that’s part of a review in itself.
The story—and it’s very talky—concerns an actress verging on middle age and an up-and-coming young woman who enmeshes herself in the older woman’s life. There are jealousies, rivalries, cynical columnists, a young Marilyn Monroe looking fabulous, and above all, Bette Davis.
There are actually two centerpieces to the film: Bette Davis as Margot Channing and the crisp, very-written dialogue. Davis is on fire throughout the film; as Addison DeWitt calls her for quite another reason, “magnificent.” She delivers Joseph Mankiewicz’s one-liners with aplomb, and at the same time creates a portrait of an aging star whose bitchiness is at least understandable, and whom we come to love as her friends do, despite her flaws (and sometimes because they’re so entertaining). Because all the characters are theater people, their over-written dialogue seems permissible. And it’s so much fun that I don’t think I’d mind, anyway.
On top of the fun, it raises some questions about theater and art, even if they’re muddled. Bill Simpson, Margot’s director/boyfriend, goes out to Hollywood early in the film and there’s speculation about his integrity and about the place of the theater vs. the cinema in popular culture. And even though Simpson defends film, there’s a lingering snobbery on the part of the theater people—in a Hollywood film. Irony? Who, exactly, is being mocked? Or is it an equal opportunity to take pot shots at the inflated egos of entertainers of all stripes? Margot, too, presents an interesting problem; she is probably too old for the parts she’s playing, and newcomers must always rise, but that doesn’t diminish her greatness as an actress, or make bowing out easy.
The film is very ordinarily shot, with nothing much to draw attention to the cinematography. But that’s just as well, as it’s the script and actors—not just Davis—who bring it along. My one regret is having seen this as my first Bette Davis film, to which none thus far can compare.
The story—and it’s very talky—concerns an actress verging on middle age and an up-and-coming young woman who enmeshes herself in the older woman’s life. There are jealousies, rivalries, cynical columnists, a young Marilyn Monroe looking fabulous, and above all, Bette Davis.
There are actually two centerpieces to the film: Bette Davis as Margot Channing and the crisp, very-written dialogue. Davis is on fire throughout the film; as Addison DeWitt calls her for quite another reason, “magnificent.” She delivers Joseph Mankiewicz’s one-liners with aplomb, and at the same time creates a portrait of an aging star whose bitchiness is at least understandable, and whom we come to love as her friends do, despite her flaws (and sometimes because they’re so entertaining). Because all the characters are theater people, their over-written dialogue seems permissible. And it’s so much fun that I don’t think I’d mind, anyway.
On top of the fun, it raises some questions about theater and art, even if they’re muddled. Bill Simpson, Margot’s director/boyfriend, goes out to Hollywood early in the film and there’s speculation about his integrity and about the place of the theater vs. the cinema in popular culture. And even though Simpson defends film, there’s a lingering snobbery on the part of the theater people—in a Hollywood film. Irony? Who, exactly, is being mocked? Or is it an equal opportunity to take pot shots at the inflated egos of entertainers of all stripes? Margot, too, presents an interesting problem; she is probably too old for the parts she’s playing, and newcomers must always rise, but that doesn’t diminish her greatness as an actress, or make bowing out easy.
The film is very ordinarily shot, with nothing much to draw attention to the cinematography. But that’s just as well, as it’s the script and actors—not just Davis—who bring it along. My one regret is having seen this as my first Bette Davis film, to which none thus far can compare.