THE PRIVATE LIVES OF ELIZABETH AND ESSEX: Blu-ray (Warner Bros., 1939) Warner Archive
Bette Davis was well compensated for losing out on the
most coveted role in screen history – Scarlett O’Hara in Gone with The Wind
(1939) – with Michael Curtiz’s The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex
(1939), a lavishly appointed, masterfully executed faux epic of palace
intrigues, based on Maxwell Anderson’s wordy, though never tedious, stagecraft
– Elizabeth, the Queen. Only a year before, when asked by Davis why the
part of Scarlett could not be hers, Selznick had rather condescendingly
informed the actress, “…because I can’t imagine any man suffering for
twenty-five years and winding up with you!” But many in 1939 could have at
least fathomed the possibility. Davis had risen like cream to the top of her
profession, starring in no less than four classic films in 1939 alone. Indeed,
Davis was not the suffering type – although she had done enough of it at Warner
Bros., mostly under the duress of a male-dominated studio system and mogul,
Jack Warner who sought to remake her into something of a sassy platinum dolly
en par with MGM’s Jean Harlow. Only after Davis stood her ground, walking out
on her ironclad contract, to become embroiled in a lawsuit, did her star ascend
with the greatest of speed and accuracy befitting her immeasurable talents. Following
their brief stalemate, Warner and Davis buried the hatchet, perhaps in each
other’s backs, the caustic diva frequently charging into the front offices with
a list of demands that were met rather than debated. It is rumored Jack Warner
would dart into his private men’s room whenever he heard her coming down the
hall, simply to avoid a conflict. Around the studio, Davis acquired something
of ‘a reputation’, begrudgingly afforded the label ‘the fifth Warner
brother’ while steadily improving her prospects and advancing her career. By
1939, it was clear to all, even if she had lost the court battle to wrangle
herself free from this indentured servitude, she had most decidedly won the
war.
1939 was a banner year – and not just for Davis, who
starred in four major productions: Dark Victory, Juarez, The Old Maid
and The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex, the latter marked by a
distinguished Broadway pedigree and sumptuous production values in period
costume drama for which Warner Bros. – generally speaking – was not readily
known. Anderson’s play, Elizabeth, the Queen had been a showcase for
Lynn Fontanne. But the film’s appeal was divided between Davis’ formidable ‘king
in petticoats and the expanded role of Sir Robert Devereux, Earl of Essex
(played by Errol Flynn). Jack Warner’s decision to cast Flynn instantly soured
Davis on the project. She had, in fact, heavily campaigned for Laurence Olivier
as her costar, citing Olivier’s obvious charismatic appeal in 1937’s Fire
Over England. But Olivier was not under contract to Warner. More to the
point, Flynn had proven himself one of the studio’s handsomest leading men and
a good actor besides, looking every bit the paragon of masculinity whether
sheathed in modern garb, vintage American west riding chaps or period leggings
and a codpiece. Like it or not – and Davis decidedly did not – Flynn’s box
office drawing power could rival her own. Yet, perhaps, professional jealousy
was hardly the point.
Indeed, Davis considered Flynn a notorious pretty boy
at best, his work ethic substandard to her own. Her venom festered as shooting
began and was frequently exerted, perhaps nowhere more obviously than in the
scene where Davis, as Elizabeth, confronts her returning conqueror – and lover
– Sir Robert with an admonishment of his decision to sacrifice a mission
against the Spanish at England’s considerable expense. Evidently, Sir Robert
does not see the situation in quite the same broad-brushed terms. He tells the
Queen as much and flippantly so, before turning to exit the reception room. “You
dare turn your back on Elizabeth? You dare?” The Queen then strikes Sir
Robert full in the face with all her might and a jewel-encrusted ring that left
a considerable welt on Flynn’s cheek. During rehearsals, this moment of public shaming
was planned as a ‘Hollywood slap’ – meaning, the hand comes close to the face,
perhaps even grazing it while a sound effect of a more violent assault is added
in later to punctuate the scene. Flynn had no expectation Davis would actually
haul off and hit him for the actual take. But strike him she did – and hard! The
moment remains in the film, and Flynn’s immediate indignation and quick
recovery, seething rage are readily apparent as Sir Robert declares, “I
would not have taken that from your father – the king. Nor will I take it from
a king in petticoats!” From this moment forward, shooting the picture
became something of a real battle royale with Flynn and Davis parting like a
pair of prize fighters between takes, each returning to their corner and
completely ignoring the other.
It really is difficult to assess the breadth of Davis’
animosity towards Flynn here. He had, in fact, costarred with her in The
Sisters, and their working relationship then had been fairly amicable.
Alas, on the set of The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex they barely
tolerated one another, leading to some added potency to their romantic
exchanges in the picture. When Robert topples the Queen to the floor before
hurling himself at her side, grinning to declare, “Fiery wench!” we can
almost assume Flynn is addressing Davis directly; she, immensely amused, and
letting out with a hearty laugh. Jack Warner had attempted to market Davis and
Flynn as a package deal to Selznick for Gone with The Wind, as Scarlett
O’Hara and Rhett Butler respectively. But Selznick, having gone his own way,
had cast something of a pall on the reputation of both these stars – at least,
insofar as Warner was concerned. By groveling to L.B. Mayer for the loan out of
Clark Gable instead, and siding with a virtual unknown – Vivien Leigh – for the
most coveted role in all filmdom, Selznick had effectively minimized Davis’
importance and Flynn’s virility as a leading man. Something had to be done to
restore these headliners to their rightful place in the cinema firmament. And so,
Jack endeavored to prove the marketing of Davis and Flynn as costars had merit.
Warner also augmented Anderson’s play with an impeccable pedigree of character
actors from his formidable stable. These included Donald Crisp (as Sir Francis
Bacon), Olivia de Havilland (Lady Penelope Gray), Henry Daniell (Sir Robert
Cecil), Henry Stephenson (Lord Burghley), Alan Hale (the Earl of Tyrone), Nannette
Fabray (Mistress Margaret Radcliffe) and, borrowed from Fox, Vincent Price (Sir
Walter Raleigh). Of these stellar performers, Crisp would prove to have one of
the most prolific careers, appearing in more than 400 movies and becoming one
of the richest men in Hollywood – thanks, in part to some very shrewd
investments and land deals.
The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex also features a
devastatingly beautiful score by Erich Wolfgang Korngold, its ambitious
leitmotifs and bombastic main title, sublime counterbalances to Sol Polito’s
sumptuous Technicolor feast and Anton Grot’s gargantuan production design, part
English Tudor/part Art Deco façade. However, willing Elizabeth and Essex
into existence proved something of its own cause célèbre, both on and off the
screen, the parallel love/hate relationship between Davis and Flynn behind
closed doors, perfectly to dovetail into spirited clashes between Davis’
towering embodiment of the determined Queen and Flynn’s ruthlessly romantic
suitor/warrior, whose endeavor to conquer the throne and this woman’s heart
simultaneously leads each aspiration to wanton ruin. To play Elizabeth, a role
much older than her 31-years, Davis shaved into her hairline and eyebrows and
donned an unflattering red wig, her appearance to the Elizabeth from history,
actually quite uncanny. Davis was, in many ways, relentless in her emasculation
of Flynn. Yet, this shredding of his machismo queerly translated into thrashing
embers of desire on the screen. There is a genuine chemistry between Flynn and
Davis, his absurdly tanned and exquisite ruggedness incongruously softening
Davis’ death-white gargoyle’s visage.
The film is also notable for Olivia de Havilland’s
appearance – not because the actress is prominently featured, but rather for being
relegated into the backdrop. This was Jack Warner’s punishment for having been
goaded by his wife to allow de Havilland to play the part of Melanie Hamilton
in Gone with The Wind. Indeed, Jack Warner had decreed that de Havilland
would remain Flynn’s romantic appendage, and why not? Jack knew a good thing
when he saw it. Beginning with 1935’s Captain Blood, the on-screen
chemistry between de Havilland and Flynn had translated to pure box office
gold. Moreover, the two costars looked ravishing together in The Adventures
of Robin Hood (1938). Behind the scenes, they were also lovers. So, de Havilland’s
aspirations to expand upon her career opportunities, by appearing in a movie
for the competition, at least to Jack, seemed grotesquely disloyal. The part of
Melanie Hamilton in Selznick’s southern gamble unequivocally proved de
Havilland a much finer actress than any of her frequent costarring roles
opposite Flynn had ever revealed. Under Jack Warner’s autocratic rule, De Havilland
put in her time. But by the time the two appeared in Elizabeth and Essex,
that impassioned love affair with Flynn, a storybook romance doomed to end badly,
had decidedly cooled. De Havilland had, in fact parted from Flynn after
inquiring what he most desired from life. His reply, ‘to be famous’
seemed very shallow by comparison to her own aspirations to garner ‘respect
for a job well done’. Thus, when production wrapped, cast and crew moved on
to other things. Flynn and de Havilland would appear together in only 3 more movies,
but Elizabeth and Essex was really the beginning of the end for
their love match. It was the end of a lot of things, actually.
In 1943, de Havilland sued Warner Brothers over the
unjust, though nevertheless widely practiced and universally accepted edict the
Hollywood
majors lauded over their stars. Basically, to keep them in line, the old studio
system had legally bound its contract players to an obligation of up to seven
years. Alas, the interpretation of ‘seven years’ was open for discussion, and
the studios quickly recognized they could extend this period of indentured
servitude indefinitely by abusing the legal limits with their own suspension
clause. So, whatever time one was under suspension was not considered ‘time
served’ within that seven years. Technically, this meant an actor could be held
indefinitely without pay or prospects of working for another studio as well as
their own – ever again – if the studio holding their contract wished it. It is
this suspension clause Jack exercised to keep de Havilland beyond the seven ‘calendar
years’ she had already worked for the studio. Defiantly, de Havilland took her
boss to court and won her case. Even more miraculously, she continued to work
steadily in pictures thereafter. But the court ruling, on the books as the de
Havilland Decree, set a new precedent for labor relations in Hollywood. Ballsy,
to say the least!
Yet, The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex
had another fascinating postscript. Davis and de Havilland had not begun as
friends on the Warner back lot, largely due to Davis’ competitive nature and
virtual incapacity to form friendships with female costars whom she readily –
and rightly - regarded as her competition, to be squashed before they could
challenge and/or surpass her supremacy at the studio. However, as the years
wore on, Davis came to admire de Havilland for her courage. The two actually
became great friends, so much that when Joan Crawford bowed out of Hush,
Hush Sweet Charlotte (1964) a mere two weeks into production, Davis
suggested de Havilland as her replacement. De Havilland, by now, semi-retired
and living in France, agreed. Afterward, Davis suggested another ‘reunion’ of
sorts, asking de Havilland to join her for a private screening on the old
Warner Bros. backlot. But the film Davis selected was, ironically, The
Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex. According to de Havilland, Davis
critically scrutinized the picture, virtually frame by frame. When the house
lights came up at the end, Davis turned to de Havilland, saying about Flynn, “You
know I was wrong about him. He is marvelous.”
High praise, indeed, regrettably afforded posthumously to Flynn who
had died in 1959.
In viewing The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex
today, one can still readily admire it as a production of impeccable tastes and
craftsmanship with grand sets, gorgeous costumes and powerful performances from
Davis and Flynn. These virtues have withstood the test of time and are plainly
obvious to anyone with a pair of eyes in working condition. The Norman Reilly Raine/Æneas MacKenzie
screenplay has managed to ‘open up’ the cloistered melodrama of palace
intrigues into a flowing and glossy spectacle, the pageantry never detracting
from the literary quality of Maxwell Anderson’s prose. It is a talkative play
and movie. But Anderson’s ability to write with an eloquence that never seems
stultifying and Davis’ desire to breathe life into this rhapsodic dialogue and
still make it appear as though it were mere conversation sprung from the top of
her own head, translates the artifice into sublime melodrama. Flynn too matches
Davis’ cultured dragon wit for wit, their magnificent sparing elevated into
believable aberrations of love-strained animosity.
Yet, it must have stuck in Davis’ craw that, after
Korngold’s magnificent and brassy main titles, the picture opens not with her,
but a lavishly staged processional marking the return of Sir Robert Devereux,
Earl of Essex (Errol Flynn) to Elizabeth I’s (Bette Davis) court at Whitehall.
The people are with Essex, particularly Lady Penelope (Olivia de Havilland)
whose own desires are to possess the earthly man rather than his galvanized and
god-like champion. But Essex’s blood is poisoned with a genuine thirst for his
Queen. The romance that cannot be is further impeded by palace intrigues. Sir
Robert Cecil (Henry Daniell) would sooner see Essex ‘tarnished’ than ascending
to the throne – an aspiration that will be Essex’s own undoing. Lord Burghley (Henry Stephenson) encourages
prudence and patience. But Sir Walter Raleigh (Vincent Price) shares Cecil’s insidious
passion to usurp Essex's popularity with the masses while calling into question
his loyalties to the crown.
In the meantime, Sir Francis Bacon (Donald Crisp) pleads
with Elizabeth. She has already decided Essex’s return cannot be met with a
flourish of praise or even genuine gratitude.
In fact, he must be brought to heel at her command. Moreover, the Queen’s reputation must
supersede any private emotions. Besides Robert has lavishly spent tax monies
afforded him by the Crown for his campaign in Spain without yielding the
anticipated tribute. His tactics are therefore to be brought into question
since, despite the obviousness of his own triumph against Spain’s formidable
armada, the purpose of his exploits was nevertheless to defeat the Spaniards
and secure a bounty for England’s depleted treasury. Only half of this
discharged duty has been fulfilled, the riches sunk by the Spanish fleet off
the coast of Cadiz and lost to both sides. Essex enters Elizabeth’s throne room
with absolute confidence. But the mood quickly sours as the Queen makes a
mockery of his valor and demands an explanation for his ‘failed campaign’. In fact, she rewards all of Essex’s
commanders without even a note of praise for him, something Essex’s ego will
not tolerate.
Retreating in anger and shame to his family home,
Essex is attended to by Sir Francis who forewarns that his desire to possess
the Queen and jointly rule will destroy him. For there are other usurpers about
the palace who would sooner see both Sir Robert and the Queen toppled than live
happily ever after. In the meantime, Lady Penelope and Mistress Margaret
Radcliffe (Nannette Fabray) attend the Queen. She is beside herself after Cecil
has read a letter addressed to the court and presumably written in Essex’s
hand, admonishing the Crown. Lady Penelope adds fuel to these already brewing flames
when she suggests a tournament of song as amusement for Elizabeth. Alas, this
moment is transformed into a lyrical chastisement of the Queen’s affections for
Essex, its May/December quality poked fun at until Elizabeth can stand no more.
Smashing every mirror in the room, Elizabeth orders her entourage away. The
ladies retreat, all except for Mistress Margaret who weeps and then confesses
her love for a handsome young solider currently fighting in Ireland. Recognizing the genuineness of Margaret’s loyalty,
Elizabeth promises her his safe return – a guarantee doomed to remain
unfulfilled when news reaches the kingdom Margaret’s lover has fallen in
battle, hence, foreshadowing the outcome of our story.
For Hugh O’Neill, the 2nd Earl of Tyrone (Alan Hale)
has declared war on Elizabeth’s forces in Ireland. All is not lost, however. In
fact, Tyrone’s pronouncement affords Elizabeth a legitimate reason to recall
Essex to her court where she intends to make him Master of the Ordinance.
Instead, Cecil and Raleigh conspire to goad Essex into taking command of the
army once more, this time sent to Ireland to quash the rebellion. In pursuit of
Tyrone’s forces, Essex’s reserves are depleted. He writes the Queen both words
of love, but also dispatches for badly needed reserves and supplies. These
requests, however, go unanswered, intercepted by Lady Penelope at the behest of
Cecil and Raleigh. Penelope is unaware she is being used and believes she is
advancing her own cause by interceding in Essex’s romantic overtures. By the
time she has discovered the true purpose of these correspondences it is too
late. Essex’s forces have fallen to Tyrone and the Queen, grown bitter and reclusive,
believes Essex has forsaken their love out of bitter spite and enterprising
jealousy.
Essex returns to Whitehall beleaguered and angry.
However, the people are with him and Elizabeth realizes he is in an enviable
position to topple her throne. Still, she denies Cecil’s nervous pleas to
fortify the palace with soldiers. Instead, Elizabeth allows Essex to storm the
throne room with his men, the two quickly learning of another treason afoot
which has kept their mutual letters a secret from one another. Elizabeth orders
her court cleared of everyone except Essex, whom she confides in as she loves
him now more deeply than ever. However, when she asks of his intentions toward
her, Elizabeth quickly discovers Essex’s heart and loyalties remain divided.
Although he undeniably worships her, Essex will not give up his desire to rule
England jointly. As Essex is now in a position to fulfill this dream with or
without Elizabeth’s complicity she pretends to agree to his ultimatum if he
will call off his reserves. Believing he has won both her heart and his place
at court Essex orders his troops to stand down. Almost immediately, Elizabeth
recalls her royal guard, placing Essex under arrest.
Exiled to the Tower and condemned to death, Essex’s
life is pleaded for by Lady Penelope who confesses to Elizabeth her inadvertent
complicity in Cecil and Raleigh’s conspiracy to keep them apart. Penelope begs
for mercy. Elizabeth prays Essex will return the ring she gave him, in effect
forsaking his thirst for power in exchanged for a renewal of their love. This,
however, he stubbornly refuses to do. On the day of execution, Elizabeth
frantically summons Essex to her private chamber, hoping against hope he will
sacrifice his own ambitions to spare his own life. Instead, Essex reasserts he
cannot cleanse his desire to simultaneously possess both the woman and the
throne. As such - alive he will always remain a threat to her. Although she
screams after him a complete surrender of her powers as monarch to spare his
life, Essex nobly marches to the executioner’s block where he is beheaded as
Elizabeth remains desolate and tormented in all her regal isolation.
The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex is a sumptuous
entertainment. No expense has been
spared on the elephantine production.
Photographed in the lushness of 3-strip Technicolor, Orry-Kelly’s
eye-popping Elizabethan costumes offer a spellbinding array of period
recreations. Jack Warner had faith in Errol Flynn even if his costar did not;
faith, well-placed indeed. For in viewing the movie today, it becomes quite
apparent that although the picture is so clearly a vehicle for Bette Davis, Flynn
manages the minor coup of remaining a steadfast and integral part of the story
– his understated Robert Devereux as purposeful and profound as Davis’
histrionic and queenly mannerisms. To
accommodate Flynn’s ever-rising stature as the studio’s numero uno he-man, Jack
Warner briefly toyed with changing the title of this movie to ‘The Knight
and the Lady’. Davis’ authority
quashed this compromise, although she eventually acquiesced to the revamped
title: 'The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex' barely able to fit on
most movie marquees. When the film had its premiere, it was successful, though
not overwhelmingly so. In fact, Dark Victory, made on a much smaller
budget, easily out-grossed The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex. As
such, Jack Warner would take only one more gamble on a lavishly appointed
entertainment starring Davis, 1940’s All This and Heaven Too, before
encouraging a roster of finely crafted, though undeniably modestly budgeted
melodramas for his biggest female star.
By mid-decade, Jack Warner was in search of new ways
to keep his number one female star, Bette Davis in line. His penultimate
solution was to hire Davis’ arch nemesis, Joan Crawford – recently released
from her MGM contract after being branded ‘box office poison’ in an article in
Variety – the showbiz bible. Crawford, hardworking but harboring no ill-will or
jealousies towards Bette, and moreover, cautious of the fact Warner Bros. was
ostensibly ‘her’ studio, had attempted numerous times to befriend Davis, but to
no avail. Worse for their antagonistic sparring, Crawford won an Oscar for 1945’s
Mildred Pierce, a role Davis had dismissively rejected. Davis, immediately thereafter became acutely aware
her boss suddenly seemed ambivalent about her future prospects at the studio.
Indeed, Davis had only four more films in her Warner canon, A Stolen Life
(1946), Deception (1946), Winter Meeting (1948) and the infamous
flop, Beyond the Forest (1949) in which the 41-yr.-old star was
desperately trying to fake a character half her age. The early forties had been
such a promising time for Davis at the studio that, for the briefest wrinkle in
time, she seemed in complete command of her artistic destiny. Yet, now, how
quickly had those opportunities turned to chalk. Davis perhaps took some
consolation in knowing that without her, Crawford’s tenure at Warner Bros. was
also on the chopping block. Crawford left the backlot in 1952. Indeed, by the time
both ladies agreed to costar in Robert Aldrich’s Whatever Happened to Baby
Jane? (1962), Aldrich was denied access to shoot any part of the picture –
to be distributed under the Warner banner – on the actual Warner backlot, Jack
telling Bob, “I wouldn’t give you a dime for those two washed up old broads!”
The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex has received an
immaculate and stunning 4K remaster on standard Blu-ray from the Warner Archive
(WAC). The DVD release was plagued by so much mis-registration of its original
3-strip Technicolor that at least half the movie was horrendously out of focus,
marred by excessive shrinkage of its red record and ringing halos around just
about everything. The Blu-ray, in short, is an absolute repudiation of that
previous effort. Prepare to be dazzled. The image here, and throughout, is exquisitely
crisp and refined, showing off the magnitude of fine details and exceptional
color design. It’s gorgeous – period! Contrast is bang on, and age-related
artifacts have been virtually eradicated. The DTS 2.0 mono audio has also been
improved upon since the DVD. Erich Korngold’s magnificent score no longer
suffers from the strangely muffled, yet simultaneously strident characteristic
it possessed on the DVD release. WAC has ported over the scantly produced junket
on the making of the movie that accompanied the DVD release. This included
brief outtakes. We also get two vintage short subjects. Bottom line: The
Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex on Blu-ray is a must have/must own
offering from WAC. Considerable work has been done to resurrect this one from
its previously flawed image quality and the results speak for themselves.
Permit us to worship.
FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)
5+
VIDEO/AUDIO
5+
EXTRAS
1
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