The Opposite Sex (1956)
Hush...Hush, Sweet Charlotte (1964)
Mame (1974)
Body of Evidence (1993)
there’s no way I could fully examine the entire career of today’s featured actress. I’ll just have to make due with some highlights and my own personal reflections of her and her films.
local high schools, taking an interest in acting as she grew up. As a pretty teen, she took part school productions of Alice in Wonderland and A Midsummer Night’s Dream (as Puck.) In the audience one night was famed director Max Reinhart who then put her in a spectacularly staged version of the play at The Hollywood Bowl (this time as Hermia.) Not long after in 1935, when the decision was made to film the production, Olivia found herself cast amidst a wealth of well-known movie actors of that time from James Cagney to Joe E. Brown to Mickey Rooney to Dick Powell (shown with her here) to even Billy Barty! From the very start of her film career, she was decorated in elaborate costumes and photographed lovingly.
Her debut film resulted in a contract with Warner Brothers, the studio that made the picture, and she was soon being put to use in a variety
of movies including Alibi Ike and The Irish in Us. She was selected to appear with Robert Donat, one of the more revered actors of the time, in the swashbuckling adventure Captain Blood, but he failed to report to the set and so a virtual unknown who had been essaying small roles was rushed in to replace him. The replacement, Errol Flynn, became an instant sensation and he would become a significant figure in de Havilland’s life, particularly during her tenure at Warners.
eight films (plus one all-star extravaganza as themselves) together. Everyone has his or her taste as to what is attractive, but I must join in the legion of fans who felt that Errol and Olivia made the perfect onscreen couple. His sly, winking, adventuresome persona contrasted and yet blended beautifully with her aristocratic, wholesome, ladylike manner. Each one gave a bit, resulting in striking cinematic companionship, egged on by their own real life affection for each other, which was allegedly never consummated.
1938 brought one of the all-time beloved examples of movie swordplay and dashing, The Adventures of Robin Hood. Flynn was, of course, the title character while de Havilland played the role of Marian. As was often the case in their movies together, she was of a higher station in life, eventually defrosted into falling for the raucous adventurer. In a symbolic move, de Havilland’s hair was covered up with headdresses in every scene of the film except one that takes place in her chambers, where Flynn secretly visits her.
As successful (and enduring) as Robin Hood was, there was another, far greater triumph on the horizon for Miss D. David O. Selznick was putting together the film adaptation of a novel that had completely captured the nation’s fancy. The mercurial, obsessive, demanding, flamboyant producer would stop at nothing to get the film he wanted and the cast he wanted to be in it. Gone With the Wind
would become one of the most lauded and well-remembered pieces of cinema ever assembled and de Havilland was granted one of the primary roles, that of Melanie Wilkes.
or de Havilland is the one in which she interacts (against all social convention of the era) with the town madam, Belle Watling (played by Ona Munson.) She accepts money from the scarlet woman that no one else will take because it may provide comfort or safety for her husband who is away at war. She also states that she would not shy away from acknowledging Watling, should they ever meet on the street, indicating a bit of rebelliousness in her straight-laced character.
up her own services in order to get the effect recorded. She was also, however, responsible for getting the great screen he-man Clark Gable to the point where he would cry onscreen, something he was greatly against doing and felt unable to do until she spoke with and coached him on it.
For Olivia, it was a bittersweet time. There was no chance of her being nominated in the leading category in competition with Vivien Leigh as Scarlett, but she was placed in the Supporting Actress category along with Hattie McDaniel, unforgettable and iconic as Scarlett’s servent Mammy. When both Leigh and McDaniel won, de Havilland was crushed at being left out. She later allowed her affection for McDaniel (along with the historical significance of her win) to put a patch on her wounds. I certainly wouldn’t take away McDaniel’s achievement (and she is nothing short of wonderful in the movie), but the truth is that de Havilland’s role was surely more difficult to convey and a more complex part despite its seeming simplicity.
for the role of Rhett Butler until Davis (a front-runner for Scarlett for a time) quashed it, refusing to play Scarlett opposite him. Davis thought he was a sub-par actor and blamed him for the loss of the role, taking pleasure in whacking him mightily across the face in one scene. The color film had Flynn looking handsomer than at any other time, practically, and many, many years later, Davis viewed the film again and called de Havilland to express that she had been wrong about him and his talent (a fact Olivia surely knew all along.) Davis and de Havilland would have a long association with each other over the years, even if their initial contact was such that Bette scared the hell out of Olivia with her dominant, aggressive personality.
She was, especially with Flynn, still quite a box office draw. They Died With Their Boots On, the pair’s final teaming (though they had no way of knowing it at the time) was the number two film of 1941. (The photo above is not from that film.) Nevertheless, de Havilland was increasingly unhappy with the studio’s persistence in casting her again and again in “damsel in distress” roles or in parts that otherwise gave her nothing challenging to play.
some chance of subsiding when she got to play (albeit on loan to Paramount) Emmy Brown in Hold Back the Dawn, also in 1941. As a single schoolteacher exploited by a gigolo (Charles Boyer) wanting to marry her in order to gain American citizenship, she received her first Best Actress Oscar nomination. The bad news was that little sister Joan (by now Joan Fontaine and a burgeoning star in her own right) was also nominated (for the second time in a row, following Rebecca!) for her work in Alfred Hitchcock’s Suspicion. This time, Fontaine was victorious and her victory helped to further ignite a rivalry and sense of resentment that had been simmering ever since their teen years.
In 1942, Olivia re-teamed with Bette Davis in In This Our Life with the two playing sisters. Davis’s vixen runs off with de Havilland’s husband and that’s just the beginning of the trouble. The film was problem-plagued throughout its filming schedule with everything from Davis’s husband falling ill to her own health concerns to the bombing of Pearl Harbor, which resulted in director John Huston’s departure before filming was completed. All along, Davis (perhaps rightly) felt herself not young enough to take away Olivia’s man and somehow she wound up collaborating on unbecoming makeup,
her the property To Each His Own, a melodrama about a woman who becomes pregnant by a WWI Army Flyer who is killed in action. She then secretly gives birth and allows the baby boy to be adopted only to continue to be a part of his life, though at arm’s length. The Madame X-ish tale of a mother’s sacrifice gleaned Miss de Havilland her first Oscar for Bess Actress. Yet another chilly moment occurred at the ceremony between Liv and Joan, their situation still unresolved and apparently getting worse with time.
1948 brought Olivia another of her great roles, this one in The Snake Pit, all about the horrors of life in a mental institution. She had Gene Tierney’s pregnancy to thank for the part, since the actress departed the 20th Century Fox production for that reason. De Havilland researched the role thoroughly in a manner that would become far more common in later years, but was still fairly unusual then. It resulted in another nomination for Best Actress, but this time the statuette went to Jane Wyman for Johnny Belinda.
Off the screen for a few years (having become a mother to her new son Benjamin), she returned in 1952 for My Cousin Rachel. The period film, based on a Daphne Du Maurier novel, concerned the death of a young man who was married to Olivia and his cousin’s investigation into whether she had anything to do with it. The cousin was portrayed by none other than Richard Burton in an early role. Shortly after, she would remarry to Pierre Galante, the editor of Paris Match magazine. This union would cause her to make Paris her home base, with occasional trips to the U.S. for filmmaking. She also gave birth to their daughter Giselle in 1956 at the age of 40.
When she returned to the screen in 1955, the vehicle was called That Lady, another costume picture with the distinction that she wore an eye patch throughout, the result of a duel the character had been involved in as a young girl. This (along with the film’s title) makes her seem as if she’s villainous, though she’s actually more scandalous, due to an affair of hers taking place within the court of Spanish royalty.
No longer needing to work, but accepting jobs when they seemed interesting or accommodating, she averaged about a movie a year for a while. The Ambassador’s Daughter in 1956 was followed by The Proud Rebel (a western with Alan Ladd) in 1958 and then Libel (with Dirk Bogarde) in 1959. She also worked on Broadway with two shows in the 50s and a 1962 production of The Gift of Time opposite Henry Fonda.
and had a decent starring role in the Rome-set romance Light in the Piazza. As the concerned mother of a brain-damaged, but very pretty, daughter (Yvette Mimieux), she must weigh the consequences when the girl falls in love with an eager young Italian (George Hamilton!) Meanwhile, the boy’s suave, captivating father (Rosanno Brazzi) begins to show interest in de Havilland even though she’s married to craggy Barry Sullivan. The picturesque story was later developed into a Broadway musical.
Conceived as reunion of the stars from Baby Jane, Charlotte was to star Bette Davis and Joan Crawford as feuding females once again.
Unfortunately, in the two years since Jane, the real life animosity between the two ladies had reached such a fever pitch that all sorts of shenanigans led to Crawford no longer being in the picture after just some brief location filming. Director Robert Aldrich contacted Vivien Leigh to replace Crawford to which she famously replied, “I could just look at Joan Crawford’s face at sevon o’clock in the morning, but I couldn’t possibly look at Bette Davis’s.” (Bette, no shrinking violet, reportedly responded that she couldn’t work with Leigh anyway because of her well-documented emotional problems, perhaps a bit of resentment over losing the role of Scarlett still remaining these twenty-five years or so hence!)
Fontaine was legend and the two took pains to avoid one another. The death of their mother (and the resultant funeral arrangements) seemed to hammer the final nail into the coffin of their relationship. Allegedly, the two have had no contact with one another since 1975 with Olivia referring to Joan as her “sibling” and considering her a “destructive” person while Joan wrote a tell-all autobiography called No Bed of Roses (which ex-husband William Dozier called “No Shred of Truth.”) It’s a sad situation, but one that has fed the public’s imagination for decades (and they are, of course, both still alive and looking quite well for their ages, the separation seeming to agree with them both!)
unsuccessful) killer bee epic The Swarm, she accepted the offer. She was one of many, many stars to run screaming from the little stingers and was placed in a love triangle with Ben Johnson and Fred MacMurray. This was a far cry from the days when she might be fought over between, say, Ronald Reagan and Errol Flynn!
and enjoys one of the great howlers of a film filled to the brim with them. She makes a hysterically funny P.A. announcement that the “killah bees” are coming only to race into a classroom and see a bunch of children being stung outside, the bees pressed up against the window in an effort to gain entry to more victims. Her slo-mo cry of angst is a MUST SEE.
Since this, Miss de Havilland has felt no need to act (not that she ever ruled out coming back if the part was satisfying enough. She has fielded countless offers, but didn’t bite because none of the roles tempted her enough to go through the process of filming them.) She nursed her son, a victim of Hodgkin’s lymphoma, through his premature death in 1991 and, even though they had divorced in 1979, she did the same for her ex-husband Galante when he battled lung cancer, dying in 1998.
Earlier this year, she was awarded the French award The Knight Legion of Honor (as was the much younger Jacqueline Bisset, shown with her here.) Though a U.S. citizen for many decades, her chief residence has been in France since 1953 and she is much beloved there. (She wrote a fun book in 1962 called Every Frenchman Has One about her attempts at adapting to life in the foreign country.)
Truly one of THE stars from the classic age of motion pictures, she is one of the Hall of Famers in The Underworld and only grows more beloved here with each passing day.