David O. Selznick gave the Tulsa ingénue the name Jennifer Jones, and thereafter compelled her to embody his most pious and baroque fantasies of womanhood, from sainted Bernadette to ghostly Jennie to half-breed spitfire Pearl, in the bizarre Duel In The Sun, pictured above. The more tightly her Svengali, and later husband, controlled her, the more she was drained of her natural appeal and charm; whatever we were seeing of her on the screen, it had little to do with her. She fared far better with directors who could bring her to at least a slight remove from Selznick; see her sparkle in Lubitsch’s Cluny Brown. Or watch her go more convincingly feral than she ever did in Duel in Powell and Pressburger’s Gone to Earth, which Selznick couldn’t keep his mitts off of. And of course she is wonderful in Wyler’s Carrie. She was a seasoned enough player by the time her husband made the odd alliance with Huston and Bogart that yielded Beat the Devil that she was able to insinuate herself into that picture’s odd cynicism with ease. By the time Selznick died in 1965, she had been in pictures for almost a quarter of a century. It was rather too late for her to create her own identity, and possibly beside the point. In her last film, The Towering Inferno, she registered less as a mature old-school star than as a very handsome older woman, all dignity and refinement. And that was, finally, quite apt.
Dan O’Bannon, too.
…was controlled by Selznick? Oh, no, passed away. Yes, that’s very much too bad. I’m trying to formulate a proper response, don’t know that I’ll be able to today.
Maybe both. What do I know? This is shaping up to be a bad day, though, I know that much.
A beauty. May she rest in peace.
Interesting thesis, though I don’t entirely agree. I think she’s great in Indiscretions of an American Wife, admittedly not her most Selznick‑y work whatever Dave’s participation. Quite apart from her gorgeousness, she was also unusally accomplished in conveying the emotional undercurrent of character and scenes pretty unique for someone who never went Method. Insofar as she wasn’t in control of her material and/or the choices of same – i.e., like virtually every other actress of her generation – I take your meaning, but even in her worst films, I’d say whatever we were seeing of her on the screen had EVERYTHING to do with her. And we never saw nearly enough of her from the 60’s on. So long, JJ…
“a very handsome older woman, all dignity and refinement.”
Ever-so-slightly compromised by one of the most grotesque depictions of defenestration committed to celluloid. Not much dignity in falling 60+ stories, hitting a landing, bouncing off, and falling 20+ more. But she is a gracious lady before that…
@ James: You articulate a conundrum that frankly did not occur to me, and I find myself siding with you on it. Nicely done.
@ Jaime: Oh, yes, I had forgotten how ruthlessly she was disposed of in the film. Indeed it is grotesque…and even more so in Blu-ray!
Wow, I remember Duel in the Sun. I liked it, but I was the right age for seeing it, all unhappiness and adolescent rage.
Jennifer Jones also deserves notice for her work in John Huston’s grossly neglected “We Were Strangers”.
Jones’ demise in Towering Inferno is indeed grotesque, especially since it’s preceded by at least one extended nerve-wracking sequence of her narrowly escaping death by fire. By the time she gets on that ill-fated elevator, you think she’s home free. Then whoopsie! The only thing more devastating would have been for her to land on the hopefully waiting Fred Astaire and take him out with her.
I guess she didn’t really get a lot of great roles, but there are few actors who could pull off such disparate characters as Bernadette and Pearl. RIP
I had forgotten before viewing a gallery of photos of her how absolutely gorgeous she was in her prime, as your photo from “Duel in the Sun” shows. I find even her worst failures to be rather fascinating – it helps that Selznick saw to it that she always worked with fine directors and actors.