Reflections on ... Faye (2024)

 

/ Pictured: portrait of Faye Dunaway by Helmut Newton for Vanity Fair magazine, 1987 /

Recently watched: Faye (2024), Laurent Bouzereau’s bittersweet HBO documentary about volcanic screen icon Faye Dunaway. 

It immediately disarms by emphasizing Dunaway’s scary diva reputation. Before we see her, we hear Dunaway imperiously snapping “Can we shoot? We need to shoot. I’m here now. C’mon. I really would like to shoot” then fretting “This is the worst seat in the world. I’m not happy with anything here … I need a glass of water, not a bottle.” This is followed by the notorious Johnny Carson clip of a desiccated and cantankerous Bette Davis raging she wouldn’t work with Dunaway again for a million dollars. And the revelation that co-star Jack Nicholson nicknamed her “Dread” (as in: “the dreaded Dunaway”).

From there, Faye provides context. Ambitious Southern farm girl Dorothy Faye Dunaway dragged herself up from humble beginnings through grit, talent and beauty (via old family photo albums we chart the emergence of her sensational cheekbones and hooded eyes), diligently studying her craft and toiling onstage until catching Hollywood’s attention. In her 1967 film debut The Happening, Dunaway is already weird and edgy (she was never a conventional ingénue). Faye scrutinizes Dunaway’s triumphs in New Hollywood classics like Bonnie & Clyde, Chinatown and Network but also her career disappointments (like Mommie Dearest – a previously verboten subject – and the aborted Maria Callas biopic, her passion project), personal tribulations (her father’s alcoholism, the death of her younger brother, her divorces, the adoption of her son Liam, the confession that Marcello Mastroianni was the love of her life. And – unexpectedly – her fixation with Blistex lip balm). 

Faye also reveals Dunaway’s battles with bipolar disorder and alcoholism. (I remember when Nina Simone was regularly described as “volatile” and “temperamental”. It wasn’t until after her death it was disclosed, she struggled with mental illness). The supportive Liam ponders, “If she wasn’t in so much pain, would she have been that good?” Dunaway is a mesmerizing actress – do we need her to also be "nice", “relatable” and “likeable”? As one of the featured talking heads replies when asked to summarize Dunaway in one word: “She’s complicated.”

Reflections on ... Silhouette (1990)

Recently watched: made-for-TV “woman in peril” thriller Silhouette (1990). Tagline: “She Saw Too Much for Her Own Good.” I’m using this period of enforced social isolation to explore the weirder corners of YouTube for long forgotten and obscure movies. (My boyfriend is accompanying me only semi-willingly). 

Everyone’s favourite fearsome diva Faye Dunaway plays Samantha Kimball, a high-flying, elegant and shoulder-padded architect who becomes stranded in an isolated rural Texan hick town – and while there, observes a murder from her hotel room window! But no one believes her! (If Silhouette were made in the fifties, Samantha would totally be played by Joan Crawford or Barbara Stanwyck). 

As far as schlock like this goes, Silhouette is made with a degree of flair and almost qualifies as “hicksploitation” (the sub-genre of exploitation / horror films where an urban sophisticate gets terrorized by hillbillies). Anyway, the camp high point is when La Dunaway visits the town’s redneck dive bar (partly to use the payphone – this was the era before mobile phones). She haughtily asks the bartender, “Can you make the perfect Rob Roy?” I love the look of incomprehension and contempt she gets back in response. 

But for Dunaway connoisseurs, Silhouette is enjoyable for how “meta” it is: intentionally or not, it keeps referring to other (better) Dunaway films. Like when she orders the Rob Roy, it reminds me of Dunaway in Chinatown (1974) ordering a Tom Collins with the terse instructions “with lime, not lemon, please.” When Dunaway tries to piece together the murder, it cuts between violent flashbacks and extreme close-ups of her anguished face, just like in The Eyes of Laura Mars (1978). When we’re first introduced to Bonnie Parker in Bonnie & Clyde (1967), we see her framed by her bedroom window and we constantly see Dunaway looking out her hotel room window here. And some of Dunaway’s distraught line deliveries here inevitably evoke Mommie Dearest (1981). 

In short: if you enjoy watching Faye Dunaway suffering extreme distress like only she can, Silhouette is the film for you!

 

Watch Silhouette on YouTube below.