Joan
Fontaine, who passed away on December 15 at the age of 96, had a long
and notable career in films, on stage, and on television. Yet, the
thing she will probably be remembered for most was her feud with
sister Olivia de Havilland.
Joan
was born Joan de Beauvoir de Havilland in Tokyo, Japan, on October
22, 1917, in that part of the city known as the International
settlement. Both parents were British. Her father, Walter Augusts de
Havilland, was a patent lawyer with a thriving practice in Japan. Her
mother, Lilian Augusta (nee Ruse), was a stage actress who retired
upon marrying. Joan was the younger of two daughters to the family.
Her older sister was Olivia Mary de Havilland, who was born on July
1, 1916. The parents, who married in 1914, split up in 1919 when
Lilian left after learning that Walter had availed himself of the
services of geisha girls. The divorce was finalized in February 1925.
Joan
was a sickly child, having developed anemia following a combined
attack of the measles and a strep infection. A physician advised
Lilian to move Joan to a warmer climate, and Lilian took Joan and
Olivia to California, settling in Saratoga, a city in Santa Clara
County directly west of San Jose. Fontaine’s health improved
dramatically and she was educated at Los Gatos High School, taking
diction lessons with Olivia after school. When she was 16 years old
she returned to Japan to live with her father, and while there,
graduated from the American School in Japan in 1935.
Returning
to the United States later in 1935, Joan’s stage mother pushed her
into films, as she did with older sister Olivia. Joan signed a
contract with RKO, who immediately loaned her out to MGM. Since Mom,
who reportedly favored Olivia, refused to let Joan use the family
name, Joan took the moniker “Joan Burfield” (her stepfather’s
name) when she made her movie debut in the 1935 Joan Crawford-Robert
Montgomery MGM comedy, No More Ladies. Joan was billed
ninth, as “Caroline,” an object of the wandering eye of
Montgomery’s character.
Back
at RKO she was idle for about a year-and-a-half, the only notable
event in her career being to change her last name from “Burfield”
to “Fontaine.” RKO pushed her slowly, with her first big break
being cast opposite Fred Astaire in A Damsel in
Distress (1937). She was supposed to be Fred’s love
interest, but two things doomed the film: Joan couldn’t dance
(theatergoers expected any partner of Fred Astaire to be able to
dance), and she lacked the chemistry with Fred that he had enjoyed
with Ginger.
After
this she had two decent supporting roles in Gunga Din and
MGM’s The Women, but it wasn’t until David O.
Selznick chose her for the female lead in Rebecca that
Joan hit stardom . . . and never looked back. The next year, she won
the Best Actress Oscar for Suspicion (which everyone
acknowledges was a consolation for not having won the year before
with Rebecca) and was nominated a year after for her role
in The Constant Nymph.
During
this time, sister Olivia de Havilland had not won an Oscar. She had
been nominated for Best Supporting Actress for Gone With the
Wind, but lost to fellow cast member Hattie McDaniel. In fact, de
Havilland would not cop an Oscar for herself until 1946, when she won
the Best Actress award for To Each His Own (1946).
To say the sisters had a rivalry was putting it mildly. They couldn’t
stand one another. Their feud began as children, according to
Fontaine in her autobiography, with big sister Liv annoying young
Joan while she was still in the crib. It later escalated to things
like hair pulling, tearing her own clothes so Joan couldn’t wear
them as hand-me-downs, and outright fistfights, one of which ended
when Olivia broke Joan’s collarbone. As they got older and Joan got
bigger, the physical was replaced with the psychological. After
Olivia became a star in 1935, Joan, still looking for a regular gig,
was pressed into service as her sister’s driver. And when Joan did
hit it big, the tension increased.
Joan was nominated in 1942 by the Academy in the Best Actress category for her role in Hitchcock’s Suspicion the year before. Sister Olivia was also nominated for the same award for her turn on Hold Back the Dawn. Both sisters were to be seated at the same table, and Joan considered no-showing; she believed that as she didn’t win the award the previous year for a superior film, she had no chance of winning it now. However, when Olivia visited Joan on the set of her latest film with her dress in hand, Fontaine decided to attend. According to her autobiography, when Fontaine’s name was called out as the winner, she froze. She stared across the table, where Olivia was whispering to her in a commanding tone to get up there. Joan said that when she did arise to accept the trophy, she walked around the other side of the table so as to bypass Olivia, whom she was certain would trip her on the way up.
Their feud escalated even further over the years and reached the point of cold war: neither sister was speaking with the other. This war-of-the-sisters made for an indelible moment at the 1947 Oscars, where Olivia won Best Actress for To Each His Own. Joan, who was on hand to present the Best Actor award, hung around afterward backstage. After Olivia departed the stage holding the award, Joan stuck out her hand in congratulations, only to have Olivia snub it. The moment was caught in a photo by Hymie Fink of Photoplay, and remains to this day one of Tinseltown’s iconic photographs. Over time, the sisters somewhat reconciled, but the relationship was never a warm one, often diverging between hot and ice cold. In 1989, the sisters were reunited at the Oscars, but upon discovering they were staying in adjoining hotel rooms, Joan had her room changed and swore never again to attend another Academy ceremony, an oath she kept until her death. For her part, when notified of her sister’s death, Olivia issued a rare public statement: “I was shocked and saddened to learn of the passing of my sister, Joan Fontaine, and my niece, Deborah, and I appreciate the many kind expressions of sympathy that we have received." Unless Olivia writes something of their relationship, Joan’s autobiography remains the main source of our knowledge of the relationship between these two talented sisters.
If
I were to be approached and asked as to which sister was my favorite,
I would have to excuse myself. I loved seeing both in whatever film
they happened to appear. My first memories of Olivia come as an
8-year old completely enraptured by Errol Flynn in The
Adventures of Robin Hood, thinking that, I too would risk death
to be with Maid Marian. Joan I didn’t catch until years later when
I saw her in ads for the local New York market hawking the delights
of Arnold sliced bread. I suppose it was either that or star in a bad
horror films such as The Witches (1966). Joan did
come out of retirement in the late ‘70s to do a few TV movies and
series, among them the soaper Ryan’s Hope. But it
wasn’t until I saw Rebecca at the age of 13 that I began to
appreciate her ability – and her beauty. To me, she was the better
looking of the sisters, but in terms of ability, both are equal in my
eyes and remain as actors I love to watch no matter what sort of film
they happen to be in.
My
Favorite Fontaine:
Damsel
in Distress (1937): Granted it’s not one of
Astaire’s better films, but Joan is quite fetching as his love
interest, Lady Alyce Marshmorton. OK, it’s basically the same old
plot, but Joan comes off quite well, considering she doesn’t dance.
The thing that always got me was the fact that someone that looked as
emaciated as Astaire could score a doll like Fontaine, even in a
movie.
Rebecca (1940):
Joan is superb as the second Mrs. De Winter. No one can project
timidity and beauty like Fontaine and make it totally work. I don’t
know how bright Joan was in real life, but she projected the image of
the gorgeous inhibited librarian-type to near perfection.
Suspicion (1941):
With a character that’s nearly a repeat of her earlier turn as Mrs.
De Winter, the role could hardly be called a stretch for Fontaine.
She proved the perfect foil to Cary Grant’s easygoing con man and
shnook. How Grant’s character could look at her and still call her
“Monkey Face” was a mystery, even with that unflattering early
‘40s hairdo?
The
Constant Nymph (1943): The picture’s not so
hot, but Joan is superb. She and Ginger Rogers were the only adult
actresses of that time who could rock the teenage look and make you
actually believe they were that young. She manages to dominate the
film, not an easy task when we can see that co-star Charles Boyer has
left his teeth marks all over the scenery.
Letter
From an Unknown Woman (1948): This is where one
can really appreciate a good actress. Anyone less and we’d be bored
out of our skulls, for this film takes a master to pull off properly.
Directed by the great Max Ophuls, Joan plays lead character Lisa
brilliantly, capturing both her vulnerable facet and later the
mature, hardened Lisa, marrying a man for financial security and
social respectability rather than love. We see in the film that the
notion of romantic love makes the younger Lisa vulnerable and needy,
and how Stefan (Louis Jourdan in a fine performance) takes advantage
of this neediness. To make Lisa work requires an actress to be
strong, yet subtle. Joan delivers on this in spades, aided by Ophuls’
excellent direction and equally strong performances by Jourdan and
Marcel Journet.
Born
to Be Bad (1950): Another film that’s not so
hot. In fact, Joan’s character, Christabel, comes off as a junior
grade Eve Harrington. Nicholas Ray’s direction doesn’t help
matters, either. But Joan is still able to give her character some
badly needed depth and a little oomph. It also helps when one has the
sort of chemistry she had with co-star Robert Ryan.
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