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- MILESTONES, Page 49She Did It the Hard WayBette Davis: 1908-1989By Richard Corliss
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- The frail wee bird tottered onto Manhattan's Lincoln Center
- stage last April, surveyed the gilded hall in which she was being
- paid tribute, and bellowed her famous line from Beyond the Forest:
- "What a dump!" Even in her decrepitude, sapped by a stroke and the
- rodentoid cancer inside her, Bette Davis knew how to fill a room
- with her majestic arrogance. When she died last week near Paris at
- 81, that hard-earned pride was Davis' enduring legacy.
-
- And how her pride spilled across the screen! In 101 feature
- films and TV movies, she created Hollywood's first and finest
- portrait of the thoroughly modern woman: her independence born in
- -neurosis, her strength forged in professional and domestic combat,
- her man of the moment an irrelevance or a desperate burden. "I
- either have to hold him off/ Or have to hold him up," she sang in
- Thank Your Lucky Stars. The only thing Bette Davis cared to hold
- up was her head.
-
- Young Bette (she said it was pronounced Bet) held up her head
- through her parents' dissolved marriage, a childhood exiled to
- boarding schools, an apprenticeship under movie moguls ready to
- crush a headstrong actress. She got what she wanted and paid for
- it: four stormy marriages of her own, an estranged daughter, a
- lonely life. Davis hoped her epitaph would read SHE DID IT THE HARD
- WAY.
-
- How hard? She was canned in 1931 by Universal's Carl Laemmle,
- who said she had about "as much sex appeal as Slim Summerville."
- Laemmle's loss was Warner Bros.' gain; she worked there for 17
- years. In her first films Davis already had the mannerisms down:
- the window-washer hand gestures, the lush cigarette smoking, the
- too precise diction. And of course the Bette Davis eyes, which she
- batted like whiffle balls at any man in her path. Yet Davis felt
- strangled in minor roles and lame movies. It took a loan-out to RKO
- in 1934 to prove she could be more than a society ingenue. In Of
- Human Bondage she played a tart waitress with a blend of shopgirl
- prissiness and sexual loathing. In 1936 she won an Oscar for
- Dangerous and soon after walked out on Warners. The studio sued to
- get her back.
-
- Warners was a tough guy's studio, and it took a tough woman to
- stand up to the boys in the front office. When Davis returned to
- work, she was rewarded with a golden decade of melodrama. Now a
- Davis heroine would seize her destiny (The Letter) or fight it to
- the death (Jezebel, her second and last Oscar). She would go blind
- with dignity (Dark Victory) or go to hell in style (The Little
- Foxes). She could be noble as well (in All This and Heaven Too and
- Now, Voyager), while making the world seem a meaner place for
- insisting that she bend her passion to its propriety.
-
- And then, having created Bette Davis, she got to do Bette
- Davis: to heighten her performances till they swerved between
- tragedy and camp. She served wit on a knife to Anne Baxter in All
- About Eve, a rat on a platter to Joan Crawford in What Ever
- Happened to Baby Jane? She kicked her style into a higher gear for
- a new movie audience raised on sensation. She could still cause
- one; she could still be one.
-
- "So many people know me," Davis says in All About Eve. "Except
- me. I wish somebody would tell me about me." Moviegoers could tell
- a lot just from her movie dialogue. On the callowness of men: "I'd
- like ta kiss ya, but I just washed my hair" (The Cabin in the
- Cotton). On the road of romance: "Fasten your seat belts. It's
- going to be a bumpy night" (All About Eve). On accommodating a
- lonely life: "Don't let's ask for the moon. We have the stars"
- (Now, Voyager). So no grieving on Bette Davis' account, or our own.
- For more than a half-century, we had the star.