Best Actress in the Post-War: An Alternative Oscar History

by Cláudio Alves

Olivia de Havilland won Best Actress twice in the late 40s. First, for Mitchell Leisen's TO EACH, HIS OWN in 1946, and, then, for William Wyler's THE HEIRESS in 1949.

At long last, after a month of endless TIFF and NYFF reviews, the Alternative Best Actress series makes its grand return. For now, let's ease back into pre-fall festival season rhythms with a write-up that considers only four Oscar years, 1946-49. 

They were those of the immediate post-war, when the Best Actress queens of the decade's first half - Garson, Davis, Hepburn - seemed to lose the Academy's favor, while new favorites emerged. In one of Old Hollywood's most infamous and contested family feuds, Fontaine won the Oscar before de Havilland, but Olivia finished the 40s with two little golden men to her sister's one. Rosalind Russell thought it was finally her time to win gold, but the Academy had other ideas, like a newfound fondness for preposterous Scandinavian accents and Loretta Young. Jane Wyman won for a mute performance, while Susan Hayward shouted and wallowed her way to multiple nominations. Finally, having grown tired of one red-headed English Rose, AMPAS turned their eyes to another, with Kerr closing the decade with the beginning of her "always the bridesmaid, never the bride" run of Best Actress nominations.

But that's reality, actual Academy Award history. What about my own version? If I had a ballot, some things would've gone differently, to say the least...

A staunch conservative and supporter of the Blacklist, Ginger Rogers was in perfect synchronicity with the changing politics of post-war America. But her days as a major star were waning. She's tremendous in 1949's THE BARKLEYS OF BROADWAY, where she shared the cinematic dancefloor with Fred Astaire for one last time.

First, let's get some context beyond AMPAS' official record. The war changed everything, from world order to the comparatively small matter of Tinsel Town, in particular, and cinema as a whole. On the American front, noir surpassed the protean form it had been in during the war years and exploded as a major genre, as likely to inspire studios to go all out with resources or to thrive in Poverty Row productions. The zany comedies started to go out of style, with screwball dying a slow death. In contrast, a more cynical public beganbegan pushing back against the limitations of the Hays Code more noticeably than during the Great Depression's waning years.

Returning soldiers had seen the worst of humankind, so a new cynicism took hold, and, politically, a more left-leaning period made a sharp turn toward hyper-conservatism on the verge of isolationism. The Blacklist was upon us - everyone go listen to the You Must Remember This podcast season on this topic! - and the American film industry was divided. The movies reflected such schisms, not just in discernible political lines. You had runs like that of Jennifer Jones, riding the wave of her husband's adoration into a series of bold projects with directors like Vidor, Lubitsch, and Minnelli, pushing the limits of American film style in temperament and form. But then you had folks like Ginger Rogers trying and mostly failing to hold on to how things used to be. 

Joan Crawford continued her reinvention at Warner Bros. and became a paragon of the modern woman in post-war America, touching on noir, melodrama, and psychological studies in films like Preminger's Daisy Kenyon. Tired of just excelling in front of the camera, Ida Lupino was bolder than all those others put together and became Hollywood's only working woman director for a few years, after Arzner had left the industry in 1943. That didn't stop her from becoming a queen of film noir. Where she found the time, I'm not sure. Simultaneously, there was a bigger pursuit of foreign imports.

Like noir in the States, Italian cinema saw the first inklings of Neorealism in the early 40s consolidate into a movement that would forever change notions of "authenticity" and "reality" on the big screen. By documenting the ruins of the Old World, Rossellini became a phenomenon at home and abroad, bringing people like Anna Magnani into the spotlight with him. And then a fan letter from Ingrid Bergman changed everything for those two Italians. Speaking of Bergmans, the bishop's son, with a passion for theater and an unfortunate adolescent fascination with fascism, grew into one of Swedish cinema's most promising new names. 

The 50s would see Ingmar Bergman become the Ingmar Bergman we know and maybe love. Still, it all started here, including various projects the young cineaste wrote for other, older and more established Swedish directors. His penchant for devising extraordinary showcase parts for similarly extraordinary actresses was already recognizable in those screenplays, too. On the other side of the globe, other names that would prosper in the next decade made themselves heard again, or, in some cases, for the first time, as Japanese cinema underwent deep transformation under the pressures of American military occupation.

Working from Ingmar Bergman script in WOMAN WITHOUT A FACE, Gunn Wållgren delivered one of the first great female performances in that auteur's filmography. She'd return to his cinema for her swan song, 1982's FANNY AND ALEXANDER.

Meanwhile, French cinema lived in the aftermath of occupation, with some artists following notions of Romantic Impressionism. In contrast, others wanted reality unfiltered, and figures like André Bazin began planting seeds that would grow into the Cahiers du Cinéma gang and, inevitably, the Nouvelle Vague. Things were also about to change over there because many of the artists who had left for America as quasi-refugees started coming back home or what was left of it. Soon, Renoir, Ophüls, Gabin, Simon, and other expats would make French films again. 

Then, some iconoclasts stood out for various reasons and couldn’t be so easily considered together with their compatriots. People like Cocteau and his dreamlike cinema, or Audry with her feminine, sometimes proto-feminist, approach to the mainstream, are good examples. Across the channel, weirdly enough, comedy was reasserting itself as was the glory of fantasy, of nostalgia for the past and a dreamy escape from the present. Ties to Hollywood were tight within English cinema, but they didn't create a uniform Anglophone movement on both sides of the Atlantic. Powell and Pressburger, for instance, pushed British cinema into the stratosphere of formal extravagance and grand tragedy, with tragediennes to match.

David Lean grew in sophistication, too, from editor to director, though that didn't stop him from contributing to the rising stardom of the earthy, preposterously funny Margaret Rutherford. It was a land of contrasts. Everywhere was like that, split apart by the cataclysm of WWII with artists scrambling to discover what came after. And heavens, the actressing that come from that was sublime. We must always return to the actressing. Lean-adjacent, still, you have Celia Johnson made Oscar voters pay attention to the repressed romantic tragedies of an English housewife in what remains one of the greatest performances ever filmed.

Within and without the Oscar eligibility lists, this was the time when Rita Hayworth became the thespian she always had the potential to be, even if Hollywood never took her seriously enough. Hara, Tanaka and so many others rose in Japan, while María Félix asserted herself as another diva of Mexican cinema who set the screen ablaze. Feuillère kept theatrical traditions alive on the French screens. Though less favored by AMPAS, Fontaine was becoming a more interesting actress with each project, and even Greer Garson found greatness, at least in my eyes. It was a long time coming, too.

Are you ready? Let's look at these alternative Best Actress ballots, eligible Honorable Mentions, and those that were, sadly never in the running. Also, by this point in Oscar history, starting in 1947, the rules left no room for doubt. If a film wasn't mentioned in the reminder lists, it wasn't eligible for a nomination. In many ways, along with stuff like the introduction of the Best Costume Design category, this is when our modern conception of the Oscars came into being. Still, I think my dream version of them is better than the real thing. Do you agree? If not, leave your own suggestions in the comments.

1946

Ingrid Bergman, NOTORIOUS
Joan Crawford, HUMORESQUE
Rita Hayworth, GILDA
Celia Johnson, BRIEF ENCOUNTER *winner* ☆
Jennifer Jones, CLUNY BROWN

Honorable Mentions: Olivia de Havilland in THE DARK MIRROR, Judy Garland in THE HARVEY GIRLS, Wendy Hiller in I KNOW WHERE I’M GOING!, Barbara Stanwyck in MY REPUTATION and THE STRANGE LOVE OF MARTHA IVERS.

Ineligible: Inga Landgré in CRISIS, Kinuyo Tanaka in UTAMARO AND HIS FIVE WOMEN. 

On the Watchlist: Josette Day in THE WELL-DIGGER’S DAUGHTER, María Félix in AMOK, Nina Ivanova in ONCE THERE WAS A GIRL, Deborah Kerr in VACATION FROM MARRIAGE, Catherine McLeod in I’VE ALWAYS LOVED YOU.

1947

Joan Crawford, DAISY KENYON
Deborah Kerr, BLACK NARCISSUS *winner*
Ida Lupino, THE MAN I LOVE
Claire Trevor, BORN TO KILL
Alida Valli, THE PARADINE CASE 

Honorable Mentions: Joan Fontaine in IVY, Jane Greer in OUT OF THE PAST, Susan Hayward in SMASH-UP: THE STORY OF A WOMAN ☆, Celia Johnson in THIS HAPPY BREED, Gene Tierney in THE GHOST AND MRS. MUIR. 

Ineligible: Libertad Lamarque in GRAN CASINO, Gunn Wållgren in WOMAN WITHOUT A FACE, Googie Withers in IT’S ALWAYS RAINY ON SUNDAY and THE LOVES OF JOANNA GODDEN.

On the Watchlist: Laraine Day in THE LOCKET, Susan Hayward in THE LOST MOMENT, Michèle Morgan and Madeleine Renaud in STORMY WATERS, Ann Sheridan in NORA PRENTISS, Barbara Stanwyck in THE OTHER LOVE.

1948

Joan Fontaine, LETTER FROM AN UNKNOWN WOMAN *winner*
Judy Garland, EASTER PARADE
Greer Garson, JULIA MISBEHAVES
Moira Shearer, THE RED SHOES
Jessica Tandy, A WOMAN’S VENGEANCE 

Honorable Mentions: Olivia de Havilland in THE SNAKE PIT ☆, Rita Hayworth in THE LADY FROM SHANGHAI, Jennifer Jones in PORTRAIT OF JENNIE, Odette Joyeux in PASSIONNELLE, Ida Lupino in ROAD HOUSE.

Ineligible: Agnese Giammona and Nelluccia Giammona in LA TERRA TREMA, Wei Wei in SPRING IN A SMALL TOWN.

On the Watchlist: Linda Darnell in UNFAITHFULLY YOURS, Evelyn Keyes in THE MATING OF MILLIE, Michèle Morgan in PASTORAL SYMPHONY, Eleanor Parker in THE VOICE OF THE TURTLE, Viviane Romance in PANIC.

1949

Olivia de Havilland, THE HEIRESS *winner* ☆
Edwige Feuillère, THE EAGLE WITH TWO HEADS
Jennifer Jones, MADAME BOVARY
Patricia Neal, THE FOUNTAINHEAD
Ann Sothern, A LETTER TO THREE WIVES 

Honorable Mentions: Barbara Bel Geddes in CAUGHT, Joan Bennett in THE RECKLESS MOMENT, Ingrid Bergman in UNDER CAPRICORN, Lisbeth Movin in DAY OF WRATH, Ginger Rogers in THE BARKLEYS OF BROADWAY.

Ineligible: Setsuko Hara in LATE SPRING, Miki Sanjō in THE QUIET DUEL. 

On the Watchlist: Joan Crawford in FLAMINGO ROAD, Yvonne De Carlo in CRISS CROSS, Suzette Harbin in LOOK-OUT SISTER, Michèle Morgan in THE FALLEN IDOL, Barbara Stanwyck in THE LADY GAMBLES.

Next time in this series, we'll examine the early 50s and see, among other things, how Hollywood reacted to the popularization of TV. Get ready for CinemaScope, opulence unbound, and the glory of midcentury melodrama among other things. Sirk and Ray are coming, Stanwyck will finally ride a horse and the Marilyn Monroe supernova is about to explode all over the Hollywood celestial order! Don't miss it.

Comments

[Amy Camus]

No Arletty for Children of Paradise? No Anna Magnani for Open City? Both films received nominations so we know they were eligible.

[Finbar McBride]

I love this series. While I believe Gene Tierney deserves a top five listing in 1947, I am still pleased to see her remembered with an honorable mention.

The Ghost and Mrs. Muir addressed a grieving widow who seeks to quell her loneliness with the spirit of a sea captain who inhabits an oceanside cottage she occupies with her young daughter.

The headstrong widow rents the haunted cottage on the English seashore. The ghost has driven all previous tenants running, but Mrs. Muir quickly wins the affection of the apparition. The conceit of the fantasy here is that because the romantic pair are a living woman and a ghost, they can never touch.

That leaves the sizeable dilemma of presenting a visual love story in which the lovers never hold one another, kiss, or even join hands. The heat between the deceased Captain Daniel Gregg and the widowed Lucy Muir must be conveyed in gazing into one another’s eyes, heightened emotions that are revealed in verbal exchanges and behaviors.

The sexual tension arises early in the film. Mrs. Muir is undressing for the bed. As she begins to untie a ribbon at her throat and unbutton her blouse, she stops. Wordlessly, she recognizes that the Captain, a spirit, can observe her. She modestly drapes a lap robe over Daniel’s portrait that hangs in her bedroom. The scene shifts and the nightgown attired Mrs. Muir climbs into bed. She sighs and closes her eyes. They quickly pop open and she sits up when we hear the deep manly voice of the ghost who is not seen state, “Never let anyone tell you that you don’t have a fine figure.”

The stunningly beautiful Gene Tierney doesn’t shy away from demonstrating a widow’s grief for the loss of a marriage bed. During the course of the story, Mrs. Muir, in addition to her spiritual love affair with the ghost of Captain Gregg, begins a romance with a living, breathing man, a children’s book author. Now the lonely mother must choose between a profound but sexless love or an active sex life with a man of whom she is fond.

In the immediate period following World War II, more women in the audience faced this choice more often than might be acknowledged. The National Institute of Health and US Library of Medicine completed a joint study showing that over 600,000 men returned from the war with various afflictions, both mental and physical, that left the veterans disabled – sexually. Tierney may play the romance quite chastely, but she never allows the audience to doubt what Lucy truly wants or what she will choose. For men in the audience who were suffering such maladies, the film was not a comfort.

Rather, the film in the guise of romantic comedy addressed the grief for absent sexual partners and disabled ones. The Ghost and Mrs. Muir was a landmark piece of cinema about the emotions addressed by survivors from battle and on the home front after WWII.