Scarred on the outside, scarred on the inside. That is the central theme of A WOMAN'S FACE, George Cukor's 1941 film that starred Joan Crawford in what could be the best role of her entire career. As Anna Holm, she continued her winning streak of critical performances even though the film itself garnered no awards of any kind. With this film it seems she believed she was back on track at MGM because she campaigned to star in THE SPIRAL STAIRCASE in the central role but was denied the chance because Louis B. Mayer did not want to see her play "more cripples or maimed women." It's because of this that A WOMAN'S FACE was her last quality film at MGM; she'd do three more films of much lesser quality before leaving MGM for good and going into a two year hiatus before making her great "comeback" in MILDRED PIERCE.
Joan Crawford herself was quoted as saying that her Oscar win for MILDRED PIERCE was more a tribute to her career as a whole up until then and credited A WOMAN'S FACE for her 1946 win. When comparing the two, she gave great performances in each, but somehow, as Anna Holm she was more effective in her restraint, the inner hurt coming out in her expressive eyes and defeated look throughout. Much, if not all, of the credit could be given to Cukor himself who was keen on erasing all of the quirks that made her the star and the fact that she trusted his direction only enhanced the resulting product. Watching the sequence when her disfigured face is shown for the first time when she takes her hat off -- as if she were expecting a reaction of horror of the character who witnesses it -- and seeing the anguish in her eyes which betray her sarcastic view on life, it is possible to see the real actress within. Another scene has her recite the events that led to her disfigurement. Her voice remains in one note, her expression almost blank -- she is on the edge of pain itself, a freak being told to spill its guts out as to why she became a freak. A great moment in film and acting, as she could have overdone it at any time, and chose not to.
A WOMAN'S FACE is linked, albeit in an indirect way, to film noir. I don't believe it is, and much of it is due to a sunnier, glossy feel the film develops during a dance sequence. Film noir is unrelenting and grim. This movie is closer to romantic suspense, even when scenes involving romantic encounters are almost nowhere to be seen. It's possible that Cukor's visual style is to blame. However, Anna Holm is a woman in the middle of a blackmail ring and thus living in the underbelly of a society that has betrayed her, so it must be considered as such. The opening sequence in which she is led by guards to her cell is done in odd angles and we never see her face, only her back. She is dressed in black throughout the entire film. We only see the left side of her face throughout the first half, and Cukor is able to use the simplest of things -- lighting, objects placed on the right side of Crawford's face, throwing a sliver of light on top of her uncovered eye after yet another operation, illuminating her left profile during her court scene. Suspense is well-drawn, we want to see her unwrap the gauze, and that simple notion drives the entire movie. Very sharp.
A WOMAN'S FACE is thus, one of Crawford's finest efforts filled with small moments -- watch her take a walk in the park and react to daylight with a bouquet of flowers in her arms -- among the greater scenes. Great support by Melvin Douglas, Marjorie Main (in a dramatic, dour turn), and especially Conrad Veidt, excellent as the scheming Torsten. A shame it got lost in the awards shuffle come 1942 and that it ultimately went to Joan Fontaine for SUSPICION. Recommendable.
Joan Crawford herself was quoted as saying that her Oscar win for MILDRED PIERCE was more a tribute to her career as a whole up until then and credited A WOMAN'S FACE for her 1946 win. When comparing the two, she gave great performances in each, but somehow, as Anna Holm she was more effective in her restraint, the inner hurt coming out in her expressive eyes and defeated look throughout. Much, if not all, of the credit could be given to Cukor himself who was keen on erasing all of the quirks that made her the star and the fact that she trusted his direction only enhanced the resulting product. Watching the sequence when her disfigured face is shown for the first time when she takes her hat off -- as if she were expecting a reaction of horror of the character who witnesses it -- and seeing the anguish in her eyes which betray her sarcastic view on life, it is possible to see the real actress within. Another scene has her recite the events that led to her disfigurement. Her voice remains in one note, her expression almost blank -- she is on the edge of pain itself, a freak being told to spill its guts out as to why she became a freak. A great moment in film and acting, as she could have overdone it at any time, and chose not to.
A WOMAN'S FACE is linked, albeit in an indirect way, to film noir. I don't believe it is, and much of it is due to a sunnier, glossy feel the film develops during a dance sequence. Film noir is unrelenting and grim. This movie is closer to romantic suspense, even when scenes involving romantic encounters are almost nowhere to be seen. It's possible that Cukor's visual style is to blame. However, Anna Holm is a woman in the middle of a blackmail ring and thus living in the underbelly of a society that has betrayed her, so it must be considered as such. The opening sequence in which she is led by guards to her cell is done in odd angles and we never see her face, only her back. She is dressed in black throughout the entire film. We only see the left side of her face throughout the first half, and Cukor is able to use the simplest of things -- lighting, objects placed on the right side of Crawford's face, throwing a sliver of light on top of her uncovered eye after yet another operation, illuminating her left profile during her court scene. Suspense is well-drawn, we want to see her unwrap the gauze, and that simple notion drives the entire movie. Very sharp.
A WOMAN'S FACE is thus, one of Crawford's finest efforts filled with small moments -- watch her take a walk in the park and react to daylight with a bouquet of flowers in her arms -- among the greater scenes. Great support by Melvin Douglas, Marjorie Main (in a dramatic, dour turn), and especially Conrad Veidt, excellent as the scheming Torsten. A shame it got lost in the awards shuffle come 1942 and that it ultimately went to Joan Fontaine for SUSPICION. Recommendable.