Barbara Stanwyck: Beyond Big Valley
I used to watch Barbara Stanwyck in re-runs of The Big Valley when I was a kid. She was the luminous matriarch of the Barkley family, with three sons and a daughter, played by a young Linda Evans.
She spoke with a crisp voice that caused her soft tenor to be even more impactful when giving advice to her grown children. Her answers to the family dilemmas always included a broader wisdom on the nature of life and made her a strong, loving presence.
Around my tween years I became interested in Old Hollywood and began watching her early films, from the 1930s on. In 1933 she starred in Baby Face, a daring pre-code film in which she played a young woman with no prospects for her future until she takes the advice of an older German man who tells her to “use men to get the things you want in life.”
This rags-to-riches, hardscrabble survivor is quintessential Stanwyck. Her characters are always survivors, whether self-sacrificing, evil, in love or in charge. In all of these roles, Stanwyck is the one whose presence is undeniable. When she enters a scene, your eyes don’t waiver.
Gary Cooper is a tall drink of water and still Barbara catches our attention as the one to watch in pictures like Meet John Doe, and Ball of Fire (both released in 1941).
She’s not a method actor, a la Stanislavsky; instead she effortlessly embodies the role, allowing her intuition to guide her. She doesn’t lose herself in the character; she brings herself to the character with honesty so we can always see her fierceness shining through.
As much as I love to watch actors like Joan Crawford with all of their over-the-top drama, it’s a different experience watching Stanwyck.
Does she play comedy as well as drama? Absolutely. Watch her in The Lady Eve, as a con artist who falls for Henry Fonda and you’ll adore her as much as he does. She manipulates the hapless guy with her sex appeal but her twinkling eyes reveal that in fact she likes him after all.
The anguish of loss on her face in Stella Dallas, the lustful deviant she plays in Double Indemnity: this is all Barbara, and how dazzling she is to behold.
In Golden Boy (1939), she plays the girlfriend of William Holden, sent by his boxing handlers to convince him to keep boxing, even though his true passion is music.
As a young acting student myself, I did a scene from the Clifford Odets’ play of the same name. I watched the movie as part of my preparation, to see her interpretation. Praised by my acting teacher for being brave as I stepped into the character’s shoes, still I thought, that was one scene; Stanwyck did it in a lifetime of portrayals.
3 FILMS
If you haven’t explored her acting beyond Big Valley, I envy you because you can bask in the pleasure of watching her “on the big screen” for the very first time. She starred in so many memorable films that it’s impossible to choose a favorite. Just three of my favorites are 10 Cents a Dance, Double Indemnity, and Sorry Wrong Number.
Ten Cents a Dance, 1931
A dime a dance? That’s what men pay for Barbara O’Neil’s company in this delightful pre-code film. Stanwyck stars as the young O’Neil, entertaining men who pay ten cents to cut a rug with the charming lass. She’s in her feisty prime, deflated by life but determined to make a way for herself. First she marries a louse who spends all her earnings, then the inevitable white knight shows up to save the day, and I’d say she earned a little pampering!
Memorable lines:
It aint how hard you can sock. It’s how hard you can take it on the chin, (as she counsels the gambling-addicted Eddie who would soon become her husband.)
And to one of the dandies on the dancefloor she declares: You’re not a man! You’re not even a good sample!
I re-watched this recently on You-Tube and what a treat.
Double Indemnity, 1944
In this 1940s film noir Stanwyck brings out her devilish vamp. She stars as Phyllis Dietrichson, a wealthy woman trapped in an unhappy marriage who convinces an insurance salesman played by Fred Macmurray, to do away with her husband. She received her 3rd Oscar Nomination for her role as the smouldering femme fatale. The two lovers stage an “accidental” death in order to take advantage of a policy clause that would allow them to collect twice the money.
This line uttered by Walter Neff sums up the plot: Yes, I killed him. I killed him for money — and a woman — and I didn’t get the money and I didn’t get the woman. Pretty, isn’t it?
Walter willingly let himself be seduced by the irresistible Phyllis and based on Stanwyck’s performance, one can easily imagine why.
Sorry Wrong Number, 1958
Barbara stars with Burt Lancaster in this frightening film about a privileged but invalid woman unable to move from bed as she discovers what she believes is a plot for her murder. She tells the operator she’s “been ringing murrayhill 3–5097 for a half hour” attempting to reach her husband but the line is busy. As she’s about to hang up, she overhears a gruff male voice saying “hey George, everything okay for tonight?” as he proceeds to review the entire plan for the heartless hit with his henchman. Aghast, she tries to save herself. Stanwyck said that this was the most emotionally exhausting film she ever made, as she had to retain the unyielding terror of her character throughout the two-week filming of the bedroom scenes.
I’ve seen this movie multiple times and it takes me in every time as I see through the eyes of the helpless, frantic Leona Stevenson. Yes Leona is entitled and somewhat annoying, but does her dashing husband, played by drop-dead gorgeous Burt Lancaster, really want to kill her? She received her 4th Oscar nomination for this role and in my opinion she deserved to win!
ROMANCE
Born Ruby Catherine Stevens on July 16, 1907, Stanwyck got her start on stage in the Ziegfield Follies as a dancer at the age of 16. Her first film was silent, followed by her first talkie, a Frank Capra movie called Ladies of Leisure in 1927. During the course of her busy career, appearing in 85 films, she managed to squeeze in two marriages and several affairs.
Frank Fay
In 1928 she married her fellow broadway actor, Frank Fay, with whom she adopted a son. He was apparently a heavy drinker and knocked her around one too many times. They divorced in 1935.
Robert Taylor
Her second and final marriage was to actor Robert Taylor in 1939. In a newsreel clip from 1948, as they board a ship headed for Europe for a second honeymoon, they look at each other like young lovers and I can see they were in love.
In fact, positively giddy is the way I would describe them in the majority of their photos.
They are most often standing close to one another with faces touching or arms intertwined, clearly comfortable with each other. In fact I can’t think of a single couple in Hollywood today whose body language reveals such genuine intimacy.
Reportedly the problems in the marriage began when Taylor wanted to step away from Hollywood, just as Stanwyck was in the prime of her thriving career. There was infidelity, perhaps on both sides, and they divorced in 1950. She told Linda Evans that he was the love of her life. Grief-stricken in 1969 when he died, she took a hiatus from movies and television.
Robert Wagner
Robert who? You mean the same Wagner who was married to Natalie Wood? This came as a shock to me, not only because of their age difference but because she was so out of his league. She was a star, an artist, whereas I can’t name a single movie of Wagner’s and even his television success was cheesy. There must have been something to it however because the affair lasted 4 years. He calls her the love of his life. Interesting. I’ve heard him say the same about Wood.
FASHION
Beyond Beauty
While Stanwyck’s looks did not define her, she was certainly beautiful with plenty of sex appeal. With pretty yet pliable features, she could play the siren, the shop girl, the matron or the mother with equal believability.
That said, she was a leading lady and a big star and being fashionable was an important part of her image when out in Hollywood.
Stanwyck was known to be much more interested in reading scripts and working on characters than in clothes and makeup. Despite herself, she was a glamorous woman and the advertisers were hep to her popularity. Here she is looking lovely in a Max Factor advertisement for Hollywood Tru-Color lipstick .
CONCLUSION
Barbara Stanwyck was a movie star, Hollywood icon, and an artist. She continues to leave an impact on anyone who sees her films, and she clearly had an impact on the people in her life. She lived life on her own terms and I for one am grateful, as I look forward to watching her movies for the rest of my days.
For more on classic film stars, see my Old Hollywood page.
