Noir Noir: Oscar Omission – Barbara Stanwyck

Noir Noir: Oscar Omission – Barbara Stanwyck

It’s about that time
again – awards season! My favorite time of year. As I write this, I’m in the
midst of my annual quest to see as many Oscar-nominated films and peformances
as possible. (Luckily, with streaming, I’m now able to see all of the entries
in the major categories!)

In keeping with the
Oscar theme, today’s Noir Nook will take a look at an actress who, for my
money, is one of the finest performers from the Golden Age of Hollywood – and
who never won an Oscar: Barbara Stanwyck.

I know – it makes no
sense, right? Not with films like Stella Dallas and Meet John Doe and
The Lady Eve under her belt! But, sadly, it’s true. While Stanwyck was
nominated for an Academy Award on four occasions, she never won. To the
Academy’s credit, she was given an honorary award in 1982 for being “an artist
of impeccable grace and beauty, a dedicated actress and one of the great ladies
of Hollywood”, which beats a blank, I suppose, but still. I think Stanwyck
should have at least won one competitive Oscar, if not multiple awards, for
several of her noirs. Let’s take a look at four that I believe were worthy of
the prize.

…..

Phyllis Dietrichson: Double
Indemnity (1944)

In this feature – my
favorite noir, in case I hadn’t mentioned that lately – Stanywyck’s Phyllis
teams with insurance salesman Walter Neff (Fred MacMurray) to bump off her
husband and enjoy a big insurance payday. Like the best laid plans of mice and men,
though, this scheme goes to the left, thanks in big part to Walter’s boss,
Barton Keys (Edward G. Robinson), who possesses a flawless intuition – in the
form of the “little man” inside his gut.

As Phyllis, Stanwyck
brings to life one of noir’s iconic femmes fatales – she’s at once sexy,
scheming, vulnerable, intelligent, ruthless, duplicitous, and smooth as
polished ice. So many of her scenes are standouts, like the one where she
feigns innocence while simultaneously trying to get Walter to assist in her
quest to do away with Mr. Dietrichson. Or the one where Walter kills her
husband in the car seat beside her, and her face is a blank mask until that
last moment when she allows a slight, satisfied smile to curve her lips. Or the
one in the supermarket where she frostily informs Walter that it’s “straight
down the line for both of us.”

…..

Martha Ivers: The
Strange Love of Martha Ivers (1946)

Here, Stanwyck plays the
title role of a woman who, as a child, murdered her hated aunt (Judith
Anderson) with a blow from her own cane. (And if that doesn’t give you a clue
to Martha’s persona, I don’t know what will.) Martha grew up to run (and
expand) the industrial empire she inherited upon her aunt’s death – and to
marry Walter O’Neil (Kirk Douglas), the childhood friend who stood beside her
(literally and figuratively) during the crime. Martha’s domain is rocked when serendipity
brings the return of another pal from her youth, Sam Masterson (Van Heflin),
who was also at Martha’s house on the night of her aunt’s death and has visions
of blackmail – at least Martha and Walter believe he does.

Stanwyck’s entrance as
the adult Martha is revealing – she exits her chauffeur-driven car and sweeps
into her house in the midst of a rainstorm. She enters without a drop of water
daring to touch her and addresses her butler without granting him so much as a
glance.  Stanwyck’s Martha is always in control,
always in charge, and usually a little scary; whether she’s browbeating her
weak-willed, alcoholic husband, or casting shade in the direction of the down-on-her-luck
dame (Lizabeth Scott) who has fallen in love with Sam, she’s always the center
of attention. In my favorite scene, she uses her considerable wiles to coax Sam
into killing Walter – and Stanwyck serves up a master class in silent acting as
she observes the outcome.

…..

Thelma Jordon: The
File on Thelma Jordon (1950)

Once again in the title
role, Stanwyck plays a woman who kills her wealthy aunt (what is with Stanwyck
and aunts?) and is prosecuted for the crime by Cleve Marshall (Wendell Corey),
the assistant District Attorney with whom she’s been having an affair. Three
guesses as to whether Cleve pulls out all the stops to ensure a guilty verdict
– and the first two don’t count.

Stanwyck’s Thelma is an
interesting character. She’s not hard-boiled like Phyllis Dietrichson, or domineering
like Martha Ivers. You can understand why Cleve falls for her – she’s quietly sexy,
subtly elegant, sophisticated but not unreachable. Her voice is soft and smoky,
she’s easy to talk to and to listen to, especially when she says things like
this: “I only know I think of you all day and all night. What I’ll wear so
you’ll look at me with that look in your eyes like now. . . . And what I’ll do
the next time you take me in your arms.” Incidentally, she’s also an expert
liar, which she demonstrates not just with Cleve but with her other lover, Tony
(Richard Rober). But that’s a whole ‘nother story. The bottom line is, Stanwyck
is several different women in this film – and she plays them each to
perfection.

…..

Leona Stevenson: Sorry,
Wrong Number (1948)

In this feature, based
on a 1943 radio play, Stanwyck is spoiled and self-centered heiress Leona
Stevenson, whose confinement to her bed due to a heart condition has not diminished
her dominance over her weak-willed husband (Burt Lancaster) or her doting
father (Ed Begley, Sr.). When crossed telephone wires allow her to overhear two
men planning a soon-to-be murder, she tries to learn more about the plot, but
discovers more than she’d bargained for.

With the exception of
flashbacks, Stanwyck’s Leona spends the bulk of the film in bed, which makes
her performance even more impressive. From there, she emotes and emotes and
emotes, taking her character from petulance to annoyance, haughtiness to hysteria,
and anxiety to terror. After the film’s release, the reviewer for Cue
proclaimed that Stanwyck had turned in the best performance of her career. I
can’t argue with that.

…..

So, what do you think? Should Stanwyck have earned an Oscar for any of these noirs? And can you think of any other noir performances that deserved Oscar recognition? Leave a comment and let me know!

…

– Karen Burroughs Hannsberry for Classic Movie Hub

You can read all of Karen’s Noir Nook articles here.

Karen Burroughs Hannsberry is the author of the Shadows and Satin blog, which focuses on movies and performers from the film noir and pre-Code eras, and the editor-in-chief of The Dark Pages, a bimonthly newsletter devoted to all things film noir. Karen is also the author of two books on film noir – Femme Noir: The Bad Girls of Film and Bad Boys: The Actors of Film Noir. You can follow Karen on Twitter at @TheDarkPages.
If you’re interested in learning more about Karen’s books, you can read more about them on amazon here: