George Sanders: A Scoundrel for All Seasons

Egomaniac. Heel. Rotter. Villain. Scoundrel. George Sanders has been called all of these and then some, and he took no offense. As a matter of fact, his autobiography is called Memoirs of a Professional Cad. Never was there a more decadent, delicious, deliberate bad egg in all filmdom than George Sanders. His voice, a deep, silky British accent, would carry lusciously to the ear, any number of cynacisms and indignities to any target he chose. Male, female, rich or poor, his verbal affronts knew no bounds. Oh but his verbal assaults were always carried out with style. His characters were always impeccably dressed, always slightly (and sometimes not so slightly) menacing, snobbish with a droll wit. These intrinsic elements of his persona were used to peak perfection in his portrayal of acid tongued critic Addison DeWitt in the film masterpiece All About Eve.

Sanders was born in Russia in 1906 to English parents. The family escaped to England in 1917 during the Russian Revolution. Entering the American cinema in the mid 1930's, Sanders didn't hit his stride until 1940 when Alfred Hitchcock cast him as the obnoxious and despicable Jack Favell in his classic Rebecca. Hitchcock used him again that same year in Foreign Correspondant. Then a string of Nazis and other nasty nellies followed including an unrecognizable turn as a red headed pirate (?) in the Tyrone Power swashbuckler The Black Swan (1942). Eventually Sanders began to find his groove, as an incomparable heel in Summer Storm (1944), The Picture of Dorian Gray (1945) and The Fan (1949). He was also an incorrigible King Charles II in the historical bed hopper Forever Amber (1947).

Then in 1950 came his pinnacle role, the one for which he is most closely identified, Addison DeWitt. For his performance as the theater critic with the poison pen, Sanders won an Academy Award as Best Supporting Actor. Among so many grand personalities and egos, he more than held his own, introducing Marilyn Monroe's buxom sexpot character, Miss Caswell, as "a graduate of the Copacabana School of Dramatic Art." Classic Sanders.

Of course there were his many marriages, including one to super celeb Zsa Zsa Gabor and later to Gabor's sister, Magda, but all ended in divorce. As Sanders aged, he went into decline. Plagued with health problems and fits of rage, he became weary of life itself. Finally in April 1972, he was found dead in a hotel room in Barcelona, Spain. Also found, five empty bottles of Nembutal and an infamous suicide note, which read: "Dear World, I am leaving because I am bored. I feel I have lived long enough. I am leaving you with your worries in this sweet cesspool. Good luck." The urbane cynic who sneered in the face of convention remained unrepentant to the very end.

Review: The Uninvited

One of the finest examples of a ghost story in Hollywood during it's Golden Age is the stylish and haunting The Uninvited from Paramount in 1944. More spooky than scary, more mystery than horror, The Uninvited has an actual supernatural element not seen in most films of it's day. There's no "ah, that explains how that happened" twist at the ending but instead, an open honest look into the paranormal with no excuses.

The story, based on Dorothy Macardle's novel, is of London siblings (Ray Milland and Ruth Hussey), both unmarried, who buy a grand old home, Winward House, on the Cornish coast of England. The current owner, stiffly upper crust Donald Crisp, lets the place go for a song. Hmmm....Come to find out, things were not always so grand and elegant at Winward House and to the new owners chagrin, they find that it is haunted. The film does offer a few unrealistic glitches, like Milland going sailing on a whim in his tweeds, tie and best fedora or the fact that the siblings, out of the blue, decide to plunk their life savings into a decades old house the same day they discover it. But no matter, these missteps can be overlooked in lieu of the finer elements displayed throughout the film.

The Uninvited is somewhat reminiscent of Hitchcock's Rebecca (1940), not in storyline as much as in atmosphere and character. Like Rebecca, the setting is a large stately house on the coast of England. The house is filled with the memory of it's former mistress, Mary Meredith (heck, it's filled with her very spirit, as she's the one haunting it), and there's even a creepy, dark haired mystery woman, who is unyieldingly devoted to the memory of the dead woman, such as Mrs. Danvers was in Rebecca. More than one film analyst has noted the obvious lesbian theme related to this character, Miss Holloway. It is a role that Gale Sondergaard would have excelled in.

The movie is chilling without the use of modern special effects, though the one camera trick that is used, the spectre of Mary Meredith, is very effective. The atmosphere is instead achieved through expert black and white cinematography by Charles Lang, whose masterful use of light and shadow earned him an Oscar nomination. Also a top asset for the film was it's haunting, romantic score by Paramount's resident composer, Victor Young, which includes the lovely tune Stella by Starlight.

Besides Milland, at his devil may care best, and Hussey (too attractive and refined not to be married), the cast includes the afore mentioned Donald Crisp, stage actress Cornelia Otis Skinner, as the eerie Miss Holloway and beautiful, young Gail Russell, who is "introduced" in her role as the daughter of the dead Mary Meredith (in reality she had appeared in the low budget Henry Aldrich Gets Glamour the previous year). An interesting side note, the same year The Uninvited was released, Gail Russell played her co-star, Cornelia Otis Skinner, in Paramount's Our Hearts Were Young and Gay, which recounted Skinner's early years abroad.

Rebecca: Hitchcock vs. Selznick

"Last night, I dreamt I went to Manderley again". And thus began 130 minutes of intrigue, suspense, mystery and Gothic romance that we know as Rebecca (1940). Of all things Rebecca was or was not, it was definitely a collaboration of two of Hollywood's creative giants, director Alfred Hitchcock and producer David O. Selznick.

In 1939, while in the middle of producing his masterpiece, Gone with the Wind, Selznick signed Hitchcock to an exclusive contract and brought him over from England, where he had just completed Jamaica Inn. His first American picture would be Rebecca, based on the novel by fellow Brit Daphne du Maurier (who also wrote Jamaica Inn). It was the tale of a young gauche bride coming to live on a grand estate, still haunted by the memory of her predecessor, the beautiful and enchanting Rebecca.

But the Rebecca set was fraught with turmoil from the outset. First, there was the issue of casting. Hitchcock wanted Robert Donat for the role of Maxim de Winter. Selznick on the other hand wanted Leslie Howard or Melvyn Douglas among others. Finally, Laurence Olivier was cast, fresh from his first big American success, Wuthering Heights. Next was the plum role of the unnamed second Mrs. de Winter. Selznick tested dozens of actresses for the part (ala Search for Scarlett), including Margaret Sullivan, Loretta Young and Scarlett herself, Vivien Leigh (she and Olivier were in the midst of their torrid love affair and would marry later that year). In the end Joan Fontaine was given the role which was to garner her an Oscar nomination and make her a star.

During filming Selznick was constantly trying to take creative control from Hitchcock, much to the director's chagrin. When the smoke cleared, Rebecca won the Academy Award for Best Picture of 1940. This award went to Selznick as producer. Although nominated for Best Director, Hitchcock lost out to John Ford for The Grapes of Wrath. His was not the only disappointment. Joan Fontaine, who was seen as a favorite, lost the Best Actress award to Ginger Rogers for Kitty Foyle.

As consolation, Fontaine would indeed win her Oscar the following year in Suspicion, ironically another Hitchcock film. The acclaimed director would also try his hand at filming another Daphne du Maurier based story 22 years later........The Birds. This time David O. Selznick had no hand in the production.