Old Acquaintance (1943)

Davis and Hopkins:
Author! Author! Sausage or Filet?
Old Acquaintance (1943)
Studio: Warner Bros • 110 min B&W • AR 1.33:1 • US: 27 Nov 1943
Re-release: Warner Bros (May 2006)
Series: Bette Davis Collection, Vol 2 (6-DVD)
Starring: Bette Davis, Miriam Hopkins, John Loder, Gig Young, Dolores Moran
Dir: Vincent Sherman

An unexpectedly stylish comedy, underpinned by a hen-pecked husband and deliriously egomaniacal wife, Old Acquaintance (1943) zips along like a bubbly champagne slipping down the back of the throat, occasionally going the wrong way causing a serious cough or two. Edmund Goulding, who had directed Davis in four films to date was scheduled to make it five; however, a heart attack forced him to withdraw and Vincent Sherman was assigned to fill in. Sherman was relatively new to directing, having joined Warner Bros in 1939 directing, as a first project of all things, Humphrey Bogart in the bizarre horror, The Return of Doctor X. Four years, and seven films later, Sherman had become a master of playing off witty dialogue against serious issues of real life relationships.

Millie Drake (Miriam Hopkins) lives in a small town but has big ambitions. When long-time school chum Kit Marlowe (Bette Davis) returns on a book signing tour, Millie is both jealous of Kit’s success and inspired to become an author in her own right. Kit aspires to “literary” works; Millie has secretly written a pot-boiler and asks Kit to help find a publisher. Millie is also pregnant, but that hardly matters; and her husband, Preston Drake (John Loder), has a crush on Kit. Millie is so totally self-absorbed, impetuous and, it has to be said, continuously rotten to everyone – she’s a drama queen par excellence – life flies by without her noticing she’s not part of it. What matters is fame, fortune and more fortune and more fame. By the time their daughter, Dierdre (Dolores Moran) is seven, Preston has had enough and walks out of the marriage. Meanwhile, Kit has stayed around (the successful Millie has moved the family to New York) to help raise Dierdre.

Flash forward, and Dierdre has now come of age and herself shows signs of impetuousness – but with a conscience. When Preston returns – chancing to hear Kit deliver a stirring war time broadcast – he realises he’s still in love with Kit. Alas, Kit is “involved” with Rudd Kendall (Gig Young), ten years her junior, and is considering marriage to him. When Millie finds out that Preston once cared for Kit (and is about to remarry), in a fit of jealousy she tries to destroy the relationship Kit and Deirdre have – more mother and daughter than Millie ever bothered to attempt. In a whirlwind finale, partners change partners and old friends become friends again – but who with whom?

Miriam Hopkins plays every scene to the hilt – going quite over the top several times – making her seem not just bitchy and irresponsible but bordering on loathsome. It’s a delicate balance director Vincent Sherman must make not to lose the audience’s natural sympathy (he succeeds). Still, in a classic confrontation scene where Kit, having lavished a lifetime’s patience on Millie, finally breaks down and “shakes up the friendship”, there will be few not cheering the mock violence. For all this, Hopkins manages only to create a flesh and blood caricature.

Not so Bette Davis and, it has to be said, everyone else. It’s not that there aren’t laughs, sometimes bittersweet, sometimes wry. Speaking of being a part-time mom to Dierdre, Kit tosses off: “Well, she’s really partly mine anyway. I was at the hospital when she was born. As a matter of fact, she gave me her first smile. Her mother said it was gas.” Kit is a smart, well-rounded, grounded woman whose literary career has been built through steady steps – not “grinding them out like sausage” as one reporter describes Millie’s work. There is tenderness toward Preston; resolve to be a true friend to Millie; determination to save Dierdre from making a life mistake triggered by a reaction to her mother: Davis treats each facet of her multi-sided relationships with the appropriate care. Unlike Preston, and the brash Rudd, she won’t ever be walked over in the name of love – but perhaps too forgiving in the name of friendship. In tossing off the repartee, playing straight man to Hopkins, or gently breaking uncomfortable news to others in her life, Davis adjusts marvelously, sometimes on a dime, creating a warm, believable, humane and fully human character.

John Loder got fourth billing but deserved more. First hen-pecked, then resolute, and willing to work for what he wants and change plans realistically when he must, Loder adds increasingly deeper layers to his character as the years and events pass. It’s surprising Loder’s career never quite took flight; he’d appeared in Alfred Hitchcock’s Sabotage in 1936 before emigrating to the US. During the filming of Old Acquaintance, he married Hedy Lamarr who gave him three children in four years (and then promptly divorced him). Both Gig Young and Dolores Moran have smaller roles, with little opportunity to do more than react to changing circumstances.

In sum, Old Acquaintance is a delightful, well-paced, sometimes laugh out loud entertainment serving up some fine performances by Davis and Loder, and a delicious one-woman bitch fest from Miriam Hopkins. There’s just enough seriousness to keep the story grounded and sympathetic to the outcomes of everyone, save perhaps the ruthlessly self-centred Millie.

The sound and print are strong – although there are a few visual blemishes toward the end. The supplements include a featurette about women’s films of the era including recent clips with director Vincent Sherman; two Warner shorts from 1943; and an engaging commentary by Sherman and Boze Hadleigh, author of Bette Davis Speaks.