Wendy Hiller in A Man for All Seasons

Wendy Hiller received her third and final Oscar nomination (second in the supporting category) for her performance as Lady Alice More in Fred Zinnemann's Best Picture winning A Man for All Seasons. Zinneman's film is now often seen as something of a typically stuffy choice by the Academy, with it's detailed period costumes, stagey direction, and loquacious monologues but it's far from a bad film and at times actually rather gripping. The film centers on Thomas More (Paul Scofield), a deeply religious man who struggles between his duty to the God and his duty to King Henry VIII (Richard Shaw). More is the Grand Chancellor of England, and refuses to back down from his principles when Henry VIII creates the Church of England in order to obtain a divorce from his infertile wife. Scofield is excellent in the film, portraying Thomas as a man of principle but not a saint, and in fact making More rather prickly and haughty. Wendy Hiller plays More's wife Lady Alice More, who believes steadfast in her husband's greatness and supports him while not being afraid to push back and challenge him on occasion when she thinks him too small-minded or selfish.

Wendy Hiller has perhaps the best sour face in the history of cinema, and thus excels at the first section of this film, where Lady Alice plays the role of the nagging, sassy wife. Hiller's Alice is a woman of strong opinions who is not afraid to throw them around, be they her opinions on her step-daughter's romantic interests or her husband's conflicted attitudes towards becoming Chancellor. Hiller portrays Alice as a simple woman of her times--one who wants the best for her family and has a clear affection for her huband that she expresses in a more outwardly brusque fashion. Her ambition for her husband is only because she has such a deep faith in his potential as a force for good for the king. She's ambitious out of love, not out of power. For the first two-thirds of the film, Wendy Hiller does not get much time to shine, instead always lurking in the background allowing either her face or voice to do all the work. It's a solid enough performance, nothing flashy and only occasionally overplaying the curmudgeonly aspects of Lady Alice.

What I wasn't expecting was what came next, because in her final two scenes of the film Hiller unexpectedly unveils moments of emotional frankness and raw impact. The first of these scenes comes when Alice and Thomas are discussing his resignation from the post of Chancellor. Thomas refuses to take an oath swearing that the Church of England has greater power than the Pope under principle, and Alice clearly worries about what this means for her family's future. In this moment Hiller reverses many of her previous acting choices, such as softening her voice where it once was harsh and severe or having Alice's hands shake as she speaks. Whereas in this scene her husband is somewhat nonchalant about his future she clearly augurs terrible things for him and is greatly troubled by it. This unveiling of Alice's fear and sadness for her husband's ruined potential is deeply moving. In this scene she also expresses the insecurities of Alice, who is afraid for her own future as well and perhaps even a little envious of her husband's great education. It's a fascinating scene in which Hiller pulls something of a turnabout on the audience. Her acting choices all land true, as does her softening of the character.

Lastly comes, of course, what might be described as her "Oscar scene" in which she visits her husband in jail following his imprisonment to plead with him to take the oath and return to his family. Lady Alice goes through the full range of emotion, starting out stubborn and indignant about her husband's refusal, then dipping into confusion towards the reasoning behind his motives, moving then to pain and hurt over what she sees as a lack of love for his family until finally settling on admiration for her husband's nobility and steadfast belief. It's a whirlwind of a scene that Hiller handles capably and with great skill, weaving us in and out of each and every motion organically. Her Lady Alice is far from a sophisticated woman, and each emotion change is rooted in insecurity and pure love for her husband. When Scofield's character comments "Why it's a lion I married" we completely understand what he means--Hiller's forceful emotional impact is lion-esque in it's ferocity and dominance.

On first go-round I found Wendy Hiller's performance to be nothing more than a tag along nomination for a stock supporting part, but as has happened more than a few times in this project (see also: Dorothy Malone, May Whitty) I discovered just how wrong I was on first assessment. This is more than just a stock performance, it's a stock performance imbued with such an impactful emotional charge and simple yet effective acting techniques. Whether she is expressing Lady Alice's ardor or softness Hiller is completely on-point. It's far from a flashy performance or one that elevates into the upper echelon of great ones, but it's an astonishing performance in it's simplicity and respect for this woman. A lion of a performance, indeed. 4/5 Thelmas.

Geraldine Page in You're a Big Boy Now

Geraldine Page received her fourth Oscar nomination (second in the supporting category) for her performance as Margery Chanticleer in Francis Ford Coppola's You're a Big Boy Now. Geraldine Page (along with someone like Greer Garson) is quite possibly the most forgotten of all Oscar's favorites, considering she sits in the same category as people like Al Pacino, Marlon Brando, Peter O'Toole, and Jack Lemmon with an astounding 8 nominations. Unfortunately, it's nominations like this one that probably make her one of the more forgettable (at least to the general public) Oscar pets. Coppola's film is an undeniably sixties coming of age story about Bernard Chanticleer, a young man trying to find his own way in life, as he is jostled around and controlled by the various adults that surround him. The film is zany and joyously drug-filled, featuring lots of great music and plenty of scenes of Bernard ogling women and rolling his eyes at all the silly adults. It's one of those types of movies.

Geraldine Page plays the most culpable silly adult, Bernard's overprotective mother, Margery. When you think of the stereotypical portrayal of the overprotective mother, Geraldine Page's performance basically epitomizes each and every aspect of that stereotype. She shrieks shrilly. She pouts pitiably. She frets constantly. She nags incessantly. She wipes her son's nose, pesters him for not wearing his contacts, and even sends him locks of her hair in the mail as a keepsake (no, really). She hates each and every girl that shows the slightest bit of interest in her son ("whores" and "sluts" all of them). It's an absolutely paper thin character filled with every cliche you could possibly think of. One would hope that an actress of Geraldine Page's caliber would be able to find something interesting to do with this character to add a bit of humanity or roundness or hilarity to her shrill exterior.

Unfortunately, Page seems determined to do almost the exact opposite and plays into all of the worst impulses a character like this breeds. From her first moment on screen she makes Margery an unbearably ghastly presence, shrieking and carping her way through scene after scene. It's clear that Coppola is not even remotely interested in giving this woman any kind of humanity, and he obviously strands Page with an awful character. But, Page is also to blame at making her character neither entertaining or funny and instead shooting for the rafters. She's an actress with some knowledge of comedic timing, but none of her jokes or antics hit the mark. She's so deeply invested in the awfulness of this woman that she doesn't allow any room for the jokes to breathe or feel funny, and instead all of her fawning isn't amusing or pathetic it's just revolting. Page just remains on the same hysterical note throughout, and unfortunately it's not the funny kind of hysterical. I kept hoping that Page would offer us a glimpse into the deeper reasoning behind Margery's fawning, but instead she kept her doting on the surface level with no hint of a real women buried underneath.

There is exactly one decent moment where I felt a small, faint wisp of a laugh brewing in my throat, and that was when Geraldine Page confronts Karen Black's innocent Amy Partlett and questions her on the whereabouts of her son. Margery circles the girl like a lion sizing up it's prey, shooting daggers at her and using her frame to intimidate her. But one over the top scream later, she's back into god-awful territory. It's simply sad when one's only half-alright moment lasts all of four seconds. But hey, this was my attempt at positivity towards this performance.

Geraldine Page is an actress I truly admire. I love all three of her Oscar-nominated performances I've seen (Hondo, Sweet Bird of Youth, and The Trip to Bountiful), so I came into this film optimistic despite the bad buzz that surrounds this performance. Unfortunately, Geraldine Page delivers one of the worst Oscar-nominated performances I've ever seen. There is simply nothing of value to this performance, which is so deeply marred in unpleasantness without dimension that it can't pull off anything else. This film ends with all of the adult characters chasing after Bernard, with Page's Margery dragging miles behind everyone else. It's truly a perfect metaphor for her how stranded and lost she is in this film, both at the hands of Coppola and sadly, her own instincts. 1/5 Thelmas.

Best Supporting Actress 1966

And the nominees were....

• Sandy Dennis as Honey in Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? (winner)
• Wendy Hiller as Lady Alice More in A Man for All Seasons
• Jocelyne LaGarde as Queen Malama in Hawaii
• Vivien Merchant as Lily Clamacraft in Alfie
• Geraldine Page as Margery Chanticleer in You're a Big Boy Now

The Field: The snail's pace continues! I'll probably never quite make it to ever finishing this project, but I've resigned myself to that and have decided to just have fun with it. I'll do a year whenever I'm feeling in the mood, and I right now I am most definitely in the mood for a little 1966. These five ladies are all eminently interesting actresses, from the mysterious Merchant to the glorious Page to the quirky Dennis, one-timer LaGarde, and sour Hiller. I've only seen Virginia Woolf and Seasons before, so three of them will be first time watches for me. I'm probably most interested by LaGarde, who gave her only performance on film EVER here, and Page, who I just generally love. Incidentally, dear Geraldine is up first. As is now the norm, there will be a review every two days as I've finished them all beforehand so as to not get caught up mid-year.

The Verdict -- Best Supporting Actress 1942

#5. Susan Peters in Random Harvest: Susan Peters delivers a star making performance, receiving this nomination as a vote of confidence from the Academy for her future career. Unfortunately, we never did get to see if she had the staying power to become one of the greats so instead this feels like a sad nomination. Still, this is a perfectly lovely performance in a very underwritten, one dimensional role and Peters acts it with a youthful energy and innocence that is perfect for the character. She gets points for elevating herself beyond the role, and that final scene is a fantastic one but it's not enough to fully justify this nomination. Still good, just not quite on an Oscar nomination level.

#4. Gladys Cooper in Now, Voyager: As Bette Davis's stern mother Mrs. Vale, Gladys Cooper has a wonderful presence in her film. After only a brief scenes her cold-hearted mother figure leaves a nasty cloud hanging over the rest of the film and Davis' Charlotte in particularly. However, those hints of a truly heartless mother figure are never really explored in the film, and though Cooper fights valiantly to humanize Mrs. Vale, the film just doesn't seem quite as interested in her. It's a stock part done very, very well but remains unfortunately lifeless and one-note.

#3. Teresa Wright in Mrs. Miniver: It's very difficult to achieve the level of serenity and lovability Teresa Wright achieves in the role of Carol Beldon, a normal and good-hearted young woman. It's a performance grounded in reality and carefully modulated to avoid melodrama or theatricality. Wright plays Carol with such subtle grace and steadfast emotions that you fall in love with her right alongside the Miniver family. Carol is a very simple character, but it's through Wright's wonderfully simple performance that she becomes the emotional core of her film and a lovely presence on screen.

#2. Agnes Moorehead in The Magnificent Ambersons: Undoubtedly the most complex and confounding performance of this bunch, Moorehead is in a different league than her competitors in a lot of ways. She's got the most interesting director and film backing her, and delivers a performance of near-operatic levels but somehow makes it (mostly) work. Fanny's deep, deep dissatisfaction with her life is so potent in Moorehead's hands, and every minute of her screen time is spent pouring that dissatisfaction onto the screen. She leaves a strong impact and is so fascinating to watch as the shrill Aunt Fanny.

#1. May Whitty in Mrs. Miniver: Though Agnes Moorehead's performance is clearly much more ambitious, I have to go with Dame May Whitty on sheer emotional impact. At first this part seems like a completely cliched one, with Whitty doling out wisecracks wonderfully and being adorably cantankerous. But the genius comes when she flips the performance on it's head with a series of emotional moments that are tragically nostalgic and impactful. Whitty toys with the expectations placed on these types of Maggie Smith-type characters and rises high above them. Deserves an Oscar nomination just for making me cry at a damn flower contest.

The Year in Review: Though the scores don't add up to as high as some of my other banner years, I truly liked all five of these performances on different levels and really enjoyed doing this vintage year. Peters and Cooper both deliver admirable performances trapped by the limitations of their parts, and even Teresa Wright suffers a bit from the same affliction, in her case the slightly one-note role of Carol Beldon. It's clear to see why Wright won the Oscar, she's absolutely luminous, tragic, and winning in Mrs. Miniver, clearly an Oscar favorite. Whitty and Moorehead could not give more opposite performances, but both are great in different ways and worthy choices in this solid year for Best Supporting Actress. I always love seeing a field with no truly bad performances. Up next is a year from one of the three full decades in which I have only reviewed one year (60s, 70s, 00s), but don't expect it too soon since I'm sticking with the method of reviewing all nominees before posting even the intro post.

Worthy Non-Contenders:
Anne Baxter in The Magnificent Ambersons

Every Supporting Actress Nominee Ranked:

1. Patty Duke in "The Miracle Worker" (1962)
2. Dorothy Malone in "Written on the Wind" (1956)
3. Thelma Ritter in "Pickup on South Street" (1953)
4. Catherine Zeta-Jones in "Chicago" (2002)
5. Linda Hunt in "The Year of Living Dangerously" (1983)
6. Anna Paquin in "The Piano" (1993)
7. Meryl Streep in "Adaptation." (2002)
8. Cher in "Silkwood" (1983)
9. Eileen Heckart in "The Bad Seed" (1956)
10. Emma Thompson in "In the Name of the Father" (1993)
11. Julianne Moore in "Boogie Nights" (1997) 
12. Ellen Burstyn in "The Last Picture Show" (1971)
13. Oprah Winfrey in "The Color Purple" (1985)
14. May Whitty in "Mrs. Miniver" (1942)
15. Patty McCormack in "The Bad Seed" (1956)
16. Claire Trevor in "Dead End" (1937)
17. Agnes Moorehead in "The Magnificent Ambersons" (1942)
18. May Whitty in "Night Must Fall" (1937)
19. Margaret Avery in "The Color Purple" (1985)
20. Mildred Dunnock in "Baby Doll" (1956)
21. Julianne Moore in "The Hours" (2002)
22. Kathy Bates in "About Schmidt" (2002)
23. Angela Lansbury in "The Manchurian Candidate" (1962)
24. Ethel Waters in "Pinky" (1949)
25. Amy Madigan in "Twice in a Lifetime" (1985)
26. Meg Tilly in "Agnes of God" (1985)
27. Teresa Wright in "Mrs. Miniver" (1942)
28. Gloria Stuart in "Titanic" (1997)
29. Alfre Woodard in "Cross Creek" (1983)
30. Barbara Harris in "Who is Harry Kellerman and Why Is He Saying Those Terrible Things About Me?" (1971)
31. Geraldine Page in "Hondo" (1953)
32. Anne Shirley in "Stella Dallas" (1937)
33. Amy Irving in "Yentl" (1983)
34. Kim Basinger in "L.A. Confidential" (1997)
35. Shirley Knight in "Sweet Bird of Youth" (1962)
36. Cloris Leachman in "The Last Picture Show" (1971)
37. Margaret Leighton in "The Go-Between" (1971)
38. Rosie Perez in "Fearless" (1993)
39. Mercedes McCambridge in "All the King's Men" (1949)
40. Joan Cusack in "In & Out" (1997)
41. Anjelica Huston in "Prizzi's Honor" (1985)
42. Ann-Margret in "Carnal Knowledge" (1971)
43. Gladys Cooper in "Now, Voyager" (1942)
44. Donna Reed in "From Here to Eternity" (1953)
45. Glenn Close in "The Big Chill" (1983)
46. Susan Peters in "Random Harvest" (1942)
47. Alice Brady in "In Old Chicago" (1937)
48. Mary Badham in "To Kill a Mockingbird" (1962) 
49. Holly Hunter in "The Firm" (1993)
50. Queen Latifah in "Chicago" (2002)
51. Celeste Holm in "Come to the Stable" (1949)
52. Ethel Barrymore in "Pinky" (1949)
53. Minnie Driver in "Good Will Hunting" (1997)
54. Thelma Ritter in "Birdman of Alcatraz" (1962) 
55. Winona Ryder in "The Age of Innocence" (1993)
56. Grace Kelly in "Mogambo" (1953)
57. Mercedes McCambridge in "Giant" (1956)
58. Marjorie Rambeau in "Torch Song" (1953) 
59. Elsa Lanchester in "Come to the Stable" (1949)
60. Andrea Leeds in  "Stage Door" (1937)

Susan Peters in Random Harvest

Susan Peters received her only Oscar nomination for her performance as Kitty Chiclet in Mervyn LeRoy's Random Harvest. Unfortunately, Susan Peters is mostly known nowadays (if mentioned at all) as a tragic Hollywood story after a 1945 hunting accident left her paralyzed from the waist down. Before the accident she was being groomed as a major star at MGM following her nomination for this film and a few other parts, but of course Hollywood didn't known what to do with a wheelchair-bound actress and Peters career fizzled out until she died at age 31 from what was essentially anorexia. It's a sad story for sure, especially considering how luminous she is in the role of Kitty in Random Harvest.

The film is a romantic drama about a man, "John Smith" (Oscar-nominated Ronald Colman) who loses his memory during World War I and falls in love with a singer who helps him make peace with his lost memories. After him and the woman, Paula (Greer Garson) get married and have a child he is hit by a car and suddenly regains the memory of his real life as Charles Rainier but simultaneously loses all of his memories of Paula and their time spent together. Peters enters as Kitty, Charles' step-niece who has a huge crush on him and eventually becomes engaged to him. However, Paula has found work as Charles' secretary and is determined to get him to remember their time together. It's a terribly overwrought film that is a little dull but still has a nice romantic glow whenever Garson and Colman are onscreen together.

Susan Peters has a tough job with the role of Kitty, having to traverse the film's drastic jumping around in time that forces her to age from a teen to a grown woman in what amounts to a few minutes onscreen. She's also got a really creepy romance, with vaguely incestuous undertones and a whopping 30 year age difference between her and Colman. It's a testament to Peters that she manages to make all of these aspects substantially less creepy (though not completely), through her charisma and charm. She's very convincing as a teenager, nicely expressing Kitty's childish crush on her uncle and her youthful confidence. She does absolutely all of the heavy lifting in the Charles/Kitty relationship, convincing us that the Kitty would be attracted to her uncle's romanticized mystique. She's not given a whole lot of time to develop a romance, since essentially two scenes in Kitty and Charles are engaged but Peters pulls it off with teenage aplomb and ardent forcefulness.

Because the performance is essentially three brief sequences, Peters has to work hard at showing the amount of maturity that Kitty has achieved in her second and third sequences. She definitely pulls it off, showing a more sophisticated and mature Kitty who has kept the torch going for her uncle over many years and maintains the determination to marry him. After the first two sequences featured, respectively, a teenage Kitty telling her uncle they will get married and a grown up Kitty getting him to propose to her, Peters is finally given a more emotional moment in her third and final scene. While her and Charles are picking hymns for their upcoming wedding they happen up the one that he and Paula got married to and Kitty recognizes that Charles still loves someone else. It's a beautifully acted moment, as we get a close-up on Kitty's face as her expression of giddy excitement changes to confusion and bewilderment to finally disappointment. Peters acts the scene with maturity and skill, having maneuvered Kitty to this place in only a few scenes. Her goodbye to Charles is touching and very noble, something the audience wouldn't have expected from the slightly annoying and petulant teen at the very beginning.

This is a perfectly lovely performance by Susan Peters, even if for the most part Kitty Chiclet is nothing more than a prop of a part that is meant to illustrate how attractive and charming Ronald Colman's character is. Peters tackles the role with charm and transitions the performance very well, but is essentially stuck by the part nonetheless. This nomination feels more like a "star is born" nomination than anything else, because I would very much have liked to see how Peters' career turned out after this lovely breakthrough. 3/5 Thelmas.

Agnes Moorehead in The Magnificent Ambersons

Agnes Moorehead received her first Oscar nomination for her performance as Aunt Fanny Minafer in Orson Welles' The Magnificent Ambersons. Orson Welles' follow-up to Citizen Kane holds an interesting place in film history, regarded as simultaneously a masterpiece and the prime example of studio interference ruining the director's vision. It certainly is a film with astonishing visuals and a compelling narrative, focusing on the decay of the Amberson family at the hands of the spoiled rotten George Amberson. The entire family is filled with engaging characters, perhaps no more so than Agnes Moorehead's Fanny Minafer. Fanny is the spinster aunt of George (Tim Holt), who the rest of the family seems to pick on somewhat, most often to her despair or discomfort. She has very little in her life besides her family and her cooking, and she pines for the handsome Eugene Morgan (Joseph Cotten), who only has eyes for her sister-in-law Isabel (Dolores Costello). Many posit that Moorehead is the lead of the film, but I can't agree considering she spends most of the film lingering in the background and gets only a few choice scenes to focus solely on her. But man are those scenes something.

The Magnificent Ambersons maintains a very heightened and melodramatic tone throughout the film and in its performances, but man does Agnes Moorehead take it to another level completely. She dives so fully into the despair of her character in each and every scene, making Fanny a larger than life character with a theatricality that borders on chewing scenery. Everything about this performance, to me, starts with the voice Moorehead uses. It alone explains so much of the character, her high pitched squeaky voice that gets even more shrill and unbearable whenever Fanny gets angry, most often with George. Her relationship with her nephew is a highly contentious one, as the two spend a good deal of the film quarreling and interrogating one another. George knows just what to say in order to get rise out of Fanny, recognizing immediately her attraction towards Morgan and calling her out for it. The scenes between Holt and Moorehead are always very entertaining, as Holt badgers her with questions and insults and Moorehead hams it up with her shrill and expressive reactions. Moorehead shows the very fragile shell that surrounds Fanny, and in her performance allows the audience to wait on pins and needles for her complete and total breakdown to occur. And boy does it.

But before that breakdown occurs, Moorehead creeps around the background showing the complete and utter devastation she feels with her life, and just how sad and broken down this woman truly is. Orson Welles clearly loved to fix the camera on Moorehead, and even in scenes in which she is not featured or talking the camera constantly swoops by her and we get a brief but stark glance at Fanny's fragile emotional state. When Isbel's husband dies we see that the melancholy on Fanny's face is beyond just sadness for her brothers death--it's sadness that Isabel now is an option for Morgan to choose. As Morgan talks to Fanny and Isabel about how grateful he is for their long and loyal friendship without once even looking at Fanny, we see just how resentful and bitter Fanny is towards Isabel from the despondent look on Moorehead's face. It all builds to the eventual final breakdown in the boiler room after the family is officially without financial support anymore. It's a scene that is often regarded as one of the greatest bits of actressing of all time, but I wouldn't go quite that far. What Moorehead does give us is the final straw in the loneliness and plain depression of Fanny Minafer, and she lets it all out in a raw and emotional outburst. It's a scene that borderlines on chewing scenery (as does the rest of Moorehead's performance, really) but manages to do so without completely isolating the audience. All of the emotional turmoil building within Fanny bursts and you as the audience understand.

In all of her theatrical glory, Agnes Moorehead is nothing but completely memorable and starkly emotional in the role of Fanny Minafer. Moorehead toes the line of overacting, but for most of the performance plays with a larger than life acting style that completely complements her character. Fanny Minafer has the same over the top dramatic qualities of a great theatrical role, and Moorehead recognizes it and adapts it well enough to a theatrical style. However, there are a few things that limit and hold her back in the film--most notably the injudicious cutting of Welles' film. There really is something missing from Fanny's story that by the end of the film you feel dissatisfied. For one, her relationship with both her brother and sister-in-law is never fully detailed, nor really is her relationship with anyone outside of George. The resentments growing underneath between Isabel and Fanny feel ripe for a few good scenes. But most of all, the ending tacked on by the studio after they disliked the original, sadder ending just completely undermines her character. The entire point of Fanny as a character was to serve as a tragic example of spinsterhood, and by giving her something of a happy ending where she is at peace with both George and Morgan dulls the impact and weakens the film (and Moorehead's performance) overall. Many seem to just completely disregard this ending, however, but it's still annoying.

Overall, Agnes Moorehead gives an eminently memorable and enjoyable performance as Fanny Minafer. She dominates the screen whenever she is on it and blasts so much emotion onto the screen in such a forceful way you can't help but be captivated by her. It's not a perfect performance, and it always walks the line between overacting and annoyance but does so almost beautifully so. A wonderful performance that could have been even greater without the interference of the studio. 4.5/5 Thelmas.

May Whitty in Mrs. Miniver

May Whitty received her second and final Oscar nomination for her performance as Lady Beldon in William Wyler's Best Picture winning Mrs. Miniver. Five years after receiving her first nomination for her delightful performance in Night Must Fall (my review), Dame May Whitty was back with her second nomination, again for playing a crusty, sassy older woman. However, Mrs. Bramson and Lady Beldon are very different characters both filtered through Whitty's very entertaining persona, and I think in many ways Lady Beldon is a greater character. Lady Beldon is a high minded, slightly cantankerous woman who lives for two things--her niece Carol (Oscar-winning co-star Teresa Wright) and her beloved flower competition. Admittedly, having a flower competition as a major plot point in the midst of a war movie is slightly ridiculous, but it's exactly that ridiculousness that allows May Whitty's performance to sneak in and hit you with pure emotion.

At the start of the film, we get to see May Whitty doing what she was best known for--bitching beautifully. Her first few scenes simply consist of her meeting with various other characters and expressing her opinion freely. Whitty is a master at these type of scenes, whether she's slyly making rude comments about the Miniver family or fretting over the growing relationship between Carol and Vin Miniver (Richard Ney). She has a way of unloading one of her carefully timed barbs in such a direct manner while but at the same time remaining her endearing and lovably grouchy self. She's just simply a master at the old Hollywood standby--the person who is outwardly rude and judgmental, but actually a big softie on the inside. It's her unveiling of her character's gooey inner core that makes this performance such a delight, and an unexpectedly moving one at that.

Whitty has done such a good job at portraying the apprehensive side of her character that when you first see the layers peeling back it's almost shocking. The first example of this is in a scene with Greer Garson (who, may I just say again is AMAZING) where Lady Beldon meets with Mrs. Miniver to express her displeasure at the engagement of Vin and Carol. As the conversation goes on, we see the real reason for Lady Beldon's curmudgeonly persona and just why her objections to Vin and Carol's relationship are so strong--they too directly mirror her own life. Through her dialogue with Mrs. Miniver we learn that she too married a young soldier out of love, and was devastated for the rest of her life after he was killed in action. Watching Lady Beldon reminiscing about her past life we see on Whitty's face as she fights against the romantic inside of her, and can feel the sting of loss that still exists in her life due to her lost long ago. Whitty is subtle but still packs an emotional wallop with a simple look on her face.  By the end of the meeting, her complete reversal of opinion towards the marriage is utterly believable and almost necessary.

That scene alone is enough to justify a Oscar nomination, but it's not even her most emotional or impactful scene in the film. That comes during, of all things, that silly flower competition. It's been made clear throughout the film that Lady Beldon values the competition for the best rose above most everything in her life, and as the caretaker of the competition she feels she deserves to have won it for all these years unchallenged. But the rest of the town knows that the actual best rose is the Miniver rose bred by kindly stationmaster Mr. Ballard (Henry Travers, doing  absolutely nothing to deserve his Oscar nomination). As the fateful decision comes closer and closer, we watch as Lady Beldon realizes that everyone thinks she deserves to lose--and think's it's not a big deal. As she goes to the stand to present the awards herself, we get a blockbuster scene in which she is named the winner but knows that she won simply because the judges were biased in her favor. Standing at the podium ready to present the award for best rose to herself, we get a brief moment in which Whitty looks at the two roses and goes through a staggering set of emotional turmoil over the decision. You can see the guilt, pride, regret, sadness, and just plain hurt on her face, plus another good 20 emotions or so. It's a touching moment that packs a lot of emotion and growth into only a few minutes or so. She, of course, decides that the rose deserves to go to Mr. Ballard but in those few brief moments before announcing the decision we see the final layer of crustiness peel away and a more pleasant yet still sardonic Lady Beldon appear.

It's a testament to May Whitty as an actress that she can so capably take her familiar acting style and make a few modifications to her performance and pull together a fantastic and moving performance in Mrs. Miniver. This performance is what this category is about--taking a stock supporting character and imbuing them with a memorable energy and emotion that adds to the film in a beautiful and unexpected way. That Dame May Whitty manages to take a damn flower contest and turn it into an emotional juggernaut is grounds enough to give her an Academy Award. Her elegant and witty handling of the character (not to mention tragic, especially in her final scene in the church which, me being me, elicited tears) makes this a performance well worth awarding 4.5/5 Thelmas. I just love it when a performance I didn't particularly like or remember on my first go-round reveals unseen elements on a second watch and blossoms into something great.