Stealing scenes with devilish bitchiness

A STOLEN LIFE (1946)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Bette Davis has always been the reigning queen bitch of the cinema, judging from roles in "All About Eve" (her definitive, bitchiest role), "Mr. Skeffington," and "Jezebel," among others. "A Stolen Life," a soapy, highly melodramatic drama, places Davis in dual roles for the first time in her career, playing both a flirtatious bitch and an innocent, lovey-dovey woman. The results are remarkable to say the least.

Kate Bosworth (Bette Davis) is the artistically inclined woman who misses her boat to New England. She is set to see her sister and her uncle. Kate persuades a lighthouse engineer, Bill (Glenn Ford), to take her home in his boat since his Martha Vineyard's lighthouse is on the way. Kate is instantly smitten with Bill, and decides to see him again at his precious, foggy lighthouse. They fall in love momentarily. That is until Pat (also played by Davis) decides to be smitten with Bill and whisk him away from Kate. A lunch date with Kate turns into a lunch date with Pat thanks to Pat's intervention. Later there is a dance followed by a wedding, leaving Kate fuming with nary the partner in her life. Kate is unable and unwilling to express her feelings to Pat. What is a virginal artist to do? Well, she gets caught up in her work and has a gallery showing where a Jackson Pollock-type named Karnock (Dane Clark) tells her that the work is mediocre and impersonal. He shows her his work and she is suddenly challenged, knowing her repression has taken a toll on her. Kate lets Karnock teach her the personal side of expressing oneself. Meanwhile, Pat and Bill are about to have a divorce with Bill leaving for Chile, which allows Kate wants to spend time with Pat. A tragedy ensues where a doppelganger motif takes shape.

"A Stolen Life" could have been highly sentimental glop but director Curtis Bernhardt and cinematographers Ernest Haller and Sol Polito inject a layer of noirish atmosphere with stark shadows and foggy landscapes that recall the look of the Universal horror films. In fact, the scenes where we see Karnock's sullied, dank apartment could be a scene straight out of "Dracula's Daughter." This works because the story involves doubles and mirror reflections of self-identity and often such stories involve self-doubt. Self-doubt or hazy notions of oneself come through in the scenes of fog, particularly the lighthouse sequences and scenes showing the exterior of Kate's house. The mirror reflections and the fact that Kate and Pat are twin sisters, not to mention there are two different men of repressed and animalistic sexuality, brings an unsettling sense of disturbance to the proceedings. It is hard to pin down but director Bernhardt has practically made a repressed horror movie without the horror, leaving only the elements of duality and doppelganger-isms and the atmosphere to prevail.

Bette Davis is the star of the show, showcasing her talents and fusing them to create three distinctive characters. The innocence of Kate, the bitchiness and flirtatious of Pat, and Kate feigning Pat in order to win Bill. It may be hokey and highly theatrical but it is never less than compelling. "A Stolen Life" is a true movie-buff's delight.