Not the sort of woman men marry.
Joan Fontaine is 90 today. This information made me very happy, for some reason. Mostly because I thought she was long dead.
I have a lot of affection for old Joan, despite the fact that she was only ever good in four roles (but G-R-E-A-T in two of them). Her ingenious, canny performance of crap femininity in Rebecca sadly only encouraged an unimaginative (and clearly missing-the-point) Hollywood to saddle her with crap females (in pictures that actually celebrated crap femininity). It's hard to forgive her for turning Jane Eyre into such a pathetic wretch, but there's no arguing with Rebecca and the melodramatic splendour of Letter from an Unknown Woman. If only she'd had half the moxie of her sister (Olivia de Havilland), and fought for parts more worthy of her, then maybe people wouldn't go around forgetting she isn't dead.
And so tonight I tip my beercan to Joan Fontaine: supreme simperer... doe-eyed wonder... hat-wearer. Happy birthday.
I have a lot of affection for old Joan, despite the fact that she was only ever good in four roles (but G-R-E-A-T in two of them). Her ingenious, canny performance of crap femininity in Rebecca sadly only encouraged an unimaginative (and clearly missing-the-point) Hollywood to saddle her with crap females (in pictures that actually celebrated crap femininity). It's hard to forgive her for turning Jane Eyre into such a pathetic wretch, but there's no arguing with Rebecca and the melodramatic splendour of Letter from an Unknown Woman. If only she'd had half the moxie of her sister (Olivia de Havilland), and fought for parts more worthy of her, then maybe people wouldn't go around forgetting she isn't dead.
And so tonight I tip my beercan to Joan Fontaine: supreme simperer... doe-eyed wonder... hat-wearer. Happy birthday.