Post A Pup Sundays! Bette Davis

Better known as Bette Davis, Ruth Elizabeth Davis was born on April 5th, 1908, in Lowell, Massachusetts. Her parents separated when she was 15, and her mother took her and her younger sister to New York City to be a portrait photographer. Surprisingly, Bette faced a lot of rejection at first after making her way to Hollywood. One studio considered terminating her contract because they didn't find her particularly interesting or memorable. A cinematographer disagreed, saying he thought she had lovely eyes, and they decided to keep her. It was a slow start. Later, she recounted how modest and virginal she had been, a true Yankee girl not ready for the racy world of cinema. After six films that failed to attract attention, she was let go and was heading back to New York when actor George Arliss chose her as the lead in The Man Who Played God, 1932. It was her big break; she was signed for a five-year contract with Warner Bros. and remained there for 18 years.

Her career might have started inauspiciously, but she was the first thespian nominated for ten Academy Awards, winning twice, and was the first woman to win the American Film Institute's Lifetime Achievement Award, among many impressive awards from critics and audiences alike; she received during her career that spanned over 50 years with 100 acting credits. 

How does someone begin to write about a woman as complex and often misunderstood as Bette Davis? She lived a long, illustrious life, probably three lifetimes in one. On the one hand, she was known to be combative, demanding, bitchy, stubborn, outspoken, suffered zero fools, and on the other, she was loyal, maternal, generous, witty, talented, charismatic, and hilarious. Bette was willing to play roles that took enormous courage; the characters weren't likable or glamorous during an era when actresses were supposed to be the opposite. She understood cinema and how to capture a million words with a look, a gesture, or an expression. The quality of the character and what she could do with it held her interest; it was about finding a role she could chew her way through and grapple with until she embodied the character and even disappeared into a great character actor and not the show's star.

At times, she warred with studio heads and won; sometimes, she lost. There was a famous rivalry with Joan Crawford, of course, that didn't die with Joan. Once, after Bette had suffered some setbacks, she and her beloved assistant were in Paris sitting under an umbrella advertising for Coke, always great for a line, she cracked, "No, Joan, no Pepsi for me." Miss Crawford had been dead for eight years. 

Whatever Happened to Baby Jane was a perfect example of how the actresses' careers had been. Joan looked great and was very good in her role. Still, Bette allowed herself to look horrible, makeup caked on her face sinking into the lines, the garish makeup, the doll wig, and black eyeliner elevated the role into something lasting and memorable. When someone thinks of that film, hers is the character that comes to mind. Conversely, in All About Eve, she is a glamorous but aging actress who is being edged out by a conniving, scheming younger performer. Her character is, even then, the one that comes to mind first. She channeled much of her authentic self in All About Eve, not caring if audiences noticed she was also no longer the ingenue. Edith Head said the glorious brown dress Bette wore as she stood on the staircase and held up her glass was her favorite costume that she had ever designed. It seems fitting as it was made for Bette in one of her greatest, gifted, meme'd, copied, iconized roles of all time. Looking elsewhere when she is on screen is impossible because her intensity is captivating. 

One heartbreak of her life was her spoiled daughter, whom she disinherited after publishing her takedown My Mother's Keeper, in which she claimed her mother had been cruel, abusive, and an alcoholic. It broke Bette's heart. Those who knew their relationship well claimed the book was full of lies and a greedy money grab. Others, like her assistant Kathryn Sermak, said that B.D. was an overindulgent child who took her mother for granted. David Merrill, Bette's adopted son, cut Barbara out of his life for writing a book full of lies and vehemently opposed everything in the book. Even her ex-husband, with whom she had an ugly divorce, Gary Merrill, defended Bette and said nothing was factual about what she wrote. It is not without noting that this was after Mommie Dearest was published and got so much attention. 

After suffering from a stroke and cancer, her health rapidly declined, her cancer returned, and Bette died in France at 81 on October 6th, 1989. 

Bette had a lifelong love affair with dogs, even after being bitten on the ankle by Errol Flynn's dog on the set of The Sisters. In character, she slapped Errol across the cheek, and his dog, trained to protect him, ran over to her and nipped her hard, thinking she was attacking him. She was the lifetime president of the Tailwaggers Society of Southern California, and in 1938, she threw a star-studded bash to raise money for training guide dogs. 

Davis had Scotties; her most famous Scottie was Tibby, who often came to set with her, Beagles, and a bulldog, to name a few breeds. There are so many photos of her with dogs I chose only a handful, or there would have been a photo album full.