Sometimes I want to see a movie with star power: 1942’s In This Our Life fits the bill. It’s one of 4 films Bette Davis and Olivia de Haviland made together. It’s also the 11th and final film Davis made with George Brent. This movie has star power up the wazoo. I still don’t know where that’s located but I like saying it: Wazoo, wazoo, wazoo.
The movie is based on a Pulitzer prize winning novel by Ellen Glasgow but it’s set in Richmond, VA and Baltimore, MD, not Scotland, UK:
That was a cheap joke but what can I do? I have them up the wazoo. At least I skipped the dogeared jokes. Woof, woof, woof.
In This Our Life tells the story of a wealthy Southern family that’s imploding under the pressure of changing times. Charles Coburn and Frank Craven play brothers-in-law. As the story starts, we learn that Coburn has screwed over Craven and taken sole control of the family business. Coburn is a right-wing blowhard with a soft spot for his niece, Bette Davis. Their relationship is on the sick side verging on incestuous.
Holy dogeared lobby card, Batman. Arf, arf, arf.
Davis’ character is described as pampered and spoiled in some of the things I’ve read about the movie. I’d call her a manipulative and malignant narcissist who will do anything to get her way.
Shorter Adrastos: She’s a sociopath.
Davis plays Coburn like a fiddle even after she blows up the family by running away with Olivia’s doctor husband played by Dennis Morgan and dumping her dapper lawyer fiancée played by George Brent:
Davis runs away to Baltimore with Dennis Morgan, then gets bored because he works too much. She thought shacking up with a Johns Hopkins doctor would be glamorous. Wrong.
She eventually drives the poor sap to suicide, then returns to Richmond to continue wrecking her family.
Davis is a reckless driver and pathological liar. She blames family factotum Hattie McDaniel’s son played by Ernest Anderson for a fatal car accident that was her fault. Brent is skeptical and takes Davis to visit Anderson in jail:
Davis’ attempt to frame Anderson blows up in her face when a bartender confirms that she was in possession of her car at the time of the accident, not the man she unjustly accused. The barkeep remembered her because she insisted on blasting the jukebox when the bar’s patrons wanted to listen to a boxing match on the radio:
That’s glaring not leering. Davis surely thought it was the latter.
That’s all the plot I’m willing to share. This feature is called pulp fiction, not pulp spoilers, after all. Suffice it to say that the Production Code takes care of Bette Davis. More importantly, the Black characters are treated with respect and dignity, which was rare in 1942.
In This Our Life was written by Howard Koch who was busy in 1942: He also co-wrote Casablanca. Director John Huston started the film; it was finished by Raoul Walsh after Huston went off to war. On the surface, these two manly man directors seem like an odd fit for a Davis-de Havilland vehicle but they bring grit and toughness to the film. They keep things moving and pack a lot of story into the movie’s 97 minute running time.
The Wikipedia entry for In This Our Life is interesting. It dishes the dirt on the movie: Davis didn’t like it and thought she was miscast because she was too old for the part. Say what? Her part is your basic Bette Davis bitch goddess and malignant narcissists are ageless and timeless. Apparently, the novel was more graphic about the racial issues but I review the movie, not the back story. And the movie is first rate.
Grading Time: I give In This Our Life 4 stars and an Adrastos grade of A-. It’s a surprisingly modern movie with great acting and character development. It’s currently streaming on HBO/MAX.
It’s poster time. We begin with side-by-side long sheet posters, one in English, the other in French.
Now that we’ve gone long, let’s go quad. Does that make any sense? Beats the hell outta me.
I need a break from the family dysfunction, let’s all go to the lobby to see what we can see.
There was no peace to be found in the lobby: The dancing movie treats got into an argument. What can ya do except look at the lobby cards?
We move from the lobby to the trailer:
The last word goes to Kim Carnes:
