1965: The Golden Globes' Alternate Choices
Thursday, October 1, 2020 at 10:30AM Each month before the Supporting Actress Smackdown Nick Taylor selects performances for an alternate ballot...
Of the Golden Globes’ Supporting Actress nominees in 1965, three of their five were transplanted to Oscar’s lineup. Globe winner Ruth Gordon in Inside Daisy Clover, Joyce Redman in Othello, and Peggy Wood in The Sound of Music (who we all agree was not the best option from her movie) all made the cut, while Redman’s co-star Maggie Smith was imported from the Globes' Lead Actress-Drama category. Only Shelley Winters, who wound up winning the damn Oscar for A Patch of Blue, failed to show up anywhere at the Globes. The two Globe nominees left out to pasture come Oscar nomination morning were NBR winner Joan Blondell in The Cincinnati Kid and never-winning Academy regular Thelma Ritter in Boeing Boeing. Both of the unlucky actresses co-starred in films that were blanked by the Academy completely. But should they have made the cut? Let’s find out...
Joan Blondell in The Cincinnati Kid
It’s hard to watch Joan Blondell waltz into the second half of The Cincinnati Kid as beloved card dealer Lady Fingers and not wonder what’s kept us from meeting her sooner. There’s a lot of stuff in this movie, ostensibly designed to add even more stakes to a poker game between the titular rising young upstart (Steve McQueen, whose glower reads like a milquetoast trial run for Michael Shannon) and reigning best-in-the-business Lancey “The Man” Howard (Edward G. Robinson, welcome as always). Relationship troubles, adultery, blackmail, game rigging, a cock fight, a bathroom brawl - lotta things happening for sure, each one intriguing on its own terms while doing very little in terms of solidifying a tone or explaining what any of this is doing here. The Cincinnati Kid might have benefitted from spending more time establishing how vets like Howard, Lady Fingers, and Shooter (Karl Malden) are operating in a world increasingly dominated by fresh faces with something to prove.
Fortunately, The Cincinnati Kid is also the kind of semi-weightless film whose most effective elements are strong enough to not just compensate but give the whole thing a retroactive boost, making the bumpy bits feel worthwhile as stepping stones on our path to the good stuff. Lalo Schifrin’s bold, moody score, imparting real emotional resonance even in the film’s vaguest passages, is absolutely the pinnacle of its achievements. Meanwhile, Karl Malden wrings real tension out of a fully superfluous plotline, and Robinson’s subtle, reflective performance only gets better as the film gives him more to play. It may take a few scenes for Norman Jewison to make poker compelling on screen, but boy is it riveting when he finally figures it out.
Still, it’s Blondell who turns the film into something special as she’s greeted by an adoring crowd of players and spectators eager to see her deal for The Big Game alongside Malden. Decked out in furs and a very fun hat, Blondell imbues Lady Fingers with a warm, gregarious sense of familiarity, conveying decades of pro work in the business by being chummy with everybody. It’s a big entrance, premised on the kind of goodwill Blondell has cultivated throughout her career before she slides to the film’s edges. What elevates this further is how much zest Blondell adds in her voice and expressions, adding character to Lady Fingers in the purest sense of the word. It’s a fairly blank role, one she makes real with mood and personality rather than pointedly conjuring a backstory. Minus some key figures like Lancey, who she needles for basically the whole game, Blondell doesn’t clarify whether Lady Fingers has a deeper relationship to any of these people, doling out fond memories and tidbits about dead friends with equal aplomb to whoever she’s talking to. Her scene-by-scene choices register as incredibly specific without ever coming across as overworked. I also appreciated how Blondell is able to wring so much humor out of her performance without turning Lady Fingers into pure comic relief - she’s funny without being a cartoon, and we take her seriously for it, not just as a professional card player but as someone who knows everyone in the room like the back of her hand. When she tells Lancey the Kid’s got him on edge in the same offhanded yet perfectly goading way she’s talked all night, it registers as a truthful observation rather than the empty barb it might’ve been in a more overtly venomous interpretation.
Thelma Ritter in Boeing Boeing
“Personality” is an equally apt summary for what makes Thelma Ritter such a welcome presence in Boeing Boeing, a frequently grating film that benefits from the ballast she provides. The film is about a Paris-based American journalist named Bernard (Tony Curtis) who is juggling three gorgeous, dim, blonde stewardesses (with Dany Saval as The French One, Christiane Schmidtner as The German One, and Suzanne Leigh as The British One) working for different European airlines. The women are engaged to him, live at his house when not working, and their schedules ensure only one of them is ever in Paris at any given time. Bernard can date all three stewardesses without one ever knowing the others exist, what with his put-upon housekeeper Bertha (Thelma Ritter) swapping out portraits and underwear drawers belonging to whoever just showed up. Obviously, this will all go wrong, in no small part due to Bernard’s rival Robert Reed (Jerry Lewis), who alternates between helping keep Bernard’s scheme afloat and trying to steal his setup for himself.
I confess that Tony Curtis has never been my cuppa, nor is this particular tone of farce or brand of gender politics, but that doesn’t excuse what a visually inert, inconsiderate, and unpleasant film this is. Director John Rich is completely taken in by the men’s rampant misogyny and insincerity, goading the leads towards one-dimensional, gendered archetypes. The men are scheming and girl-obsessed, while the women are as suspicious as they are gullible. It’s just not fun, even if it’s got some good jokes and a remarkable amount of confidence.
Hiring Ritter to play the fretful, conspiratorial, yet increasingly fed-up maid reads as ludicrously easy typecasting. Rich clearly agreed, relying on Ritter doing her thing to such a degree that he doesn’t bother getting her performance on the same tonal wavelength as the rest of Boeing Boeing. Occasionally she comes across as somewhat under-directed, her loose gestures and unhurried line readings looking out of place next to the antic precision around her. But given how glibly annoying everything else is, these deficiencies are more than acceptable considering what a breath of fresh air Ritter’s tangy, grounded work is. Ritter is by far the funniest part of the film, nailing Bertha’s air of comic grievance even as she’s complicit in some morally dubious stuff. She single-handedly justifies Bertha’s inexplicable hatred of the British One, as well as the recurring gag of walking into the living room chirping “What?” every time someone says her name, interrupting conversations with the same tone and inflections in a way prescient of Adam Driver shouting “Outer! Space!” in Inside Llewyn Davis. She also commits to Bertha’s exhaustion, getting the audience to sympathize with her plight and putting real weight behind her threats to leave. The single best acting beat in Boeing Boeing comes when Bertha accidentally shatters a glass bowl, and Ritter projects such a total, bone-deep exhaustion at this mundane fuck-up that we’re taken out of the film for a moment. A shame her final choice about whether she stays or not is so tossed off, but damn if I didn’t miss her.
I would not call either of these role the strongest, most challenging of either actress’s careers. The writing and direction don’t help, though they still find ways to successfully showcase both of them. But even taking these caveats into consideration, Blondell and Ritter deliver detailed, likeable characterizations that work as platonic distillations of what these consummately skilled actresses bring to virtually every performance they’ve given us. Blondell gives a full, unexpectedly entertaining turn in a film that needs all the moxie it can get. Ritter isn’t showing us a new side of her persona, but she still thrives in inhospitable circumstances. We’ve got another week until the Smackdown panel evaluates which nominees have stood the test of time, but both of these actresses add value to their films without ever overwhelming them, which is exactly what good supporting actressing is supposed to do.
Reader Comments (13)
How come nobody nominated Claire Bloom for The Spy Who Came in from the Cold, an easy winner of whatever awards she could have been up for that year?
The Academy did John Blondell so wrong. One measly nomination in a 50 year career. A nom in '65 would have been more than deserved but I'd give her the win in '45 for The Tree Grows In Brooklyn.
Yes she sure was and in 77 for Opening Night,they could have given Ritter a win as consolation for losing 6 times.
I just saw Joan Blondell in Desk Set last week. She has the "best friend" role, but I remember her more than Spencer Tracy!
I remember liking "Boeing Boeing" but agree that it's not exactly peak Ritter. Still, considering the minor history of performers that managed to ride momentum and goodwill through a series of unexpected nominations - how great that Thelma Ritter is in that club!
@ken s - Spy missing in so many categories is sort of surprising, even if I can get why its coldness turned voters off. I like Bloom and the photography a good bit, but it missing for Werner and Adapted Screenplay feels even stranger.
@Baby Clyde - Yes! She’s genius in A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, and fuck, how on earth did she miss out for Opening Night? It’s fun to wonder what might’ve happened if there were supporting categories earlier in Oscar’s lifetime, she would’ve been a great nominee for Night Nurse.
Blondell should have won for Opening Night.
Blondell is like many of my favourite classic hollywood actresses where I've seen her in so many things yet I can't tie her down to playing just one role. She's wonderful in Kid and I agree with all that she should've won for Tree Grows in Brooklyn.
Ritter is really great in Boeing and makes the film barrable.
Red Beard could have provided all 5 nominees.
Wonderful overview of these two classic, classy dames!
I loves me some Thelma Ritter but Boeing, Boeing is the worst film she was ever involved in. While her work is indeed the best part about the movie I never once thought it was one that should have earned her a nomination......now if we were talking Rear Window that would be a totally different story.
Joan Blondell on the other hand would have been a very fine replacement for one of the less than overwhelming lineup (in my opinion taking winner Shelley Winters place-love Shelley, hate that performance). Not sure why the Academy was finished with Joan after that nod for Tree Grows in Brooklyn she gave at least three performances I can think of off the top of my head (this, Desk Set and especially Opening Night-she should have won there) that could have been easy nods. Perhaps she was just too prolific and too competent and fell into that Myrna Loy/Ida Lupino take me for granted category in which case it's a wonder she received even that one nomination.
I like Cincinnati Kid but it started out to be a very different beast when Sam Peckinpah was slated to direct. He envisioned a grittier black and white Depression era drama and had cast Spencer Tracy in EGR's role, Sharon Tate in the role ultimately played by Tuesday Weld and was considering Mitzi Gaynor for Lady Fingers. But Peckinpah and the producer disagreed on the direction of the story and he was replaced by Jewison. Tracy had to bow out because of health problems, Jewison felt that Sharon wasn't quite ready for so large a part and apparently Mitzi and Ann-Margret did not hit it off and Joan Blondell was hired. It turned out just fine but the original cast possibilities are very intriguing.
I love Joan Blondell. I don't know why the Academy kept overlooking her work. Thelma Ritter is one of the all time greats without an Oscar.
@ joel6: That alternate casting actually sounds less gritty and not very Peckinpah...
@joel6 - I don’t think I’d have begrudged Ritter a nomination for this, though she’s certainly much better elsewhere. How she missed for Rear Window is beyond me, and she absolutely should’ve won for Pickup on South Street.
Your theory on Blondell sounds spot on, though I have to offer a quick correction: her sole nomination was for The Blue Veil in 1951, they didn’t even notice her for A Tree Grows in Brooklyn! The fact that she even got one is a pleasant surprise, though I wonder how close she got to the kind of run Maureen Stapleton had - not quite a favorite but still someone the Academy was happy to recognize when the opportunity arose.
What a weird alternate reality. Don’t know enough about Peckinpah to comment there but I’m glad we got Robinson and Blondell, even if the other choices sound entertaining. Where the hell was Robinson’s nomination, by the way?