Review: The Little Foxes

Set in the deep south in 1900, and centred on the primarily greedy and ravenous Hubbard family. Bette Davis is the ruthless Regina, who wants to invest in a new cotton mill venture along with her unscrupulous brothers Ben (Charles Dingle, sly as a fox indeed) and Oscar (Carl Benton Reid, dour and cruel), but she hasn’t the money to do so. Her gravely ill husband Horace (Herbert Marshall), a fair-minded man who has been recovering from a heart attack in hospital, strongly disagrees with the mill and refuses to give Regina the necessary money to invest. But Regina (who isn’t quite as rich as her two brothers, having not inherited much of the family fortune) will seemingly stop at absolutely nothing to get what she wants. Meanwhile, Oscar conspires to get his idiot son Leo (Dan Duryea) married to Regina’s daughter (his first cousin!) Alexandra (Teresa Wright), a kind and virtuous young lady who would do well to get the hell away from her family. Patricia Collinge plays daffy Aunt Birdie, who is treated abusively and dismissively by her husband Oscar. Richard Carlson turns up as a likeable young would-be suitor for Alexandra.

 

Based on a play by Lillian Hellman (“The Children’s Hour”, “The Chase”), this 1941 borderline melodrama from director William Wyler (“The Best Years of Our Lives”, “The Big Country”) is a great showcase for some excellent actors, and brilliant B&W cinematography by ‘deep focus’ master Gregg Toland (“Citizen Kane”, “The Best Years of Our Lives”, “The Grapes of Wrath”, “Enchantment”). Fans of the stage play may prefer Tallulah Bankhead (who originated the character, and was no doubt very well-cast), but kabuki makeup and all, Bette Davis has a magisterial presence here that can’t be matched. None of these characters is infallible or indestructible, but Davis here plays the one with the most power, and boy does the character know it. She’s intimidating as hell, ruthless, and possibly completely heartless. It’s an extraordinary character, especially for 1940. At one point, she accuses the family maid of babying her daughter too much. The maid! Says everything you need to know about her maternal nature, doesn’t it? The character’s terror at the prospect of getting old and being alone is this powerful, ruthless woman’s Achilles heel and subtly but effectively conveyed throughout by Davis, a terrific actress and undeniable, forceful movie star. OK, so Davis doesn’t sound remotely Southern, but once you hear the perfectly English Herbert Marshall as her husband, you realise it’s not terribly important. She’s still unforgettable in the part, and towers over all.

 

The heart of the film comes from Teresa Wright and Patricia Collinge, both of whom played their parts on stage. This was Wright’s extraordinary film debut, one of the most impressive debuts you’re likely to see, from a still underrated actress. I’d argue that Wright’s character is the film’s most pivotal. She’s the one with enough youth and strength to break out from this revolting family if she can wake up to it all. The character might lack the colour of the more flamboyant and amoral characters in the film, but she’s the one who goes through a real arc from young and naïve, to somewhat wise, defiant, and determined. It’s no surprise Wright earned her first Oscar nomination on her debut assignment, she’s not only excellent, but has a sympathetic, charismatic quality that just can’t be taught. This terrific, but somewhat forgotten actress had one helluva impressive start to her film career, being Oscar nominated for her first three roles and winning the Oscar for “Mrs. Miniver”. Her fourth role? “Shadow of a Doubt”. Hell, I’d retire after that small run of good work. Speaking of “Shadow of a Doubt”, Patricia Collinge plays Wright’s mother in that one, whilst here she is sad and heartbreaking as the daffy, but brow-beaten Aunt Birdie. This woman has clearly been defeated by this family of not just foxes, but piranha, especially her cruel husband (Carl Benton Reid) who regards her as both an annoyance and an embarrassment. Carl Benton Reid plays a cruel bastard of a man, but Charles Dingle as his brother may be even worse- soulless, racist, sly, and calculating. Both are rock-solid in their roles. Herbert Marshall is absolutely spot-on as the gravely ill family patriarch, whom you want to sympathise with, but you never quite can. You want him to take a stand against this horrible, ruthless family for the sake of his daughter, whom he clearly loves. But this man simply doesn’t have the strength or energy to do so anymore. Perhaps Davis has over time crushed him and turned him into mush. Or perhaps he never had the constitution to begin with.

 

It’s Dan Duryea, however, who constantly steals scenes here (though he doesn’t get to share much screen time with the dominating Davis, I might add) as the Eddie Haskell of the early 1940s. Making his screen debut (like Collinge, Reid, and Wright), slimeball specialist Duryea essays one of the dumbest, most cowardly, little turds the screen has ever seen. Leo is too stupid for his own good and twice as gutless. If he had any kind of thought in his head, it’d die of loneliness. If there’s one letdown in the acting department, it’s the pleasant but dull Richard Carlson, as Wright’s love interest. Not only is he dreadfully plain, but he and Duryea engage in the girliest slap fight the silver screen has ever seen. Why didn’t they just tickle each other with feathers or have a pillow fight? There’s a touch of the Stepin Fetchit’s about some of the African-American characters here, but the family maid played by Jessie Grayson ain’t no Prissy. This woman knows what’s going on in this family, no doubt about it.

 

As I mentioned earlier, the Gregg Toland cinematography is a definite highlight of the film, there’s particularly excellent depth of field. This is not just a stagey, dialogue-driven film, no matter its theatrical origins. It isn’t stagey, it’s just that the shot composition is stupendous, with an emphasis here on everyone being positioned in just the right place within the camera’s frame. There are two scenes in particular, one centred on Collinge, and a later one with Wright, that employ the same technique of a character in the background, but centred. For Collinge, she looks sad, forlorn, and defeated in the background, with the ‘little foxes’ in the foreground. But when it’s Wright’s turn, she ain’t just gonna sit there and take it from these horrible people. The scene where Collinge says something she shouldn’t, and Reid hears it, is a masterwork on every level, not just shot composition.

 

This is the kind of film that gives you something new to discover every time you see it. It’s one of the best films derived from a stage play you’ll ever see, and 99.99% of the performances are top-notch. This one still has a real power to it and is a must-see. Hellman wrote the Oscar-nominated screenplay, with additional help from Arthur Kober (“Me and My Gal”), Dorothy Parker (“A Star is Born”, “Saboteur”), and Alan Campbell (“A Star is Born”).

 

Rating: B+