“When I was discovered, everything happened like dominos. I don’t know how to talk about it now because it’s too mindblowing. It’s so unreal, and yet it’s real.” — Faye Dunaway


Bonnie and Clyde

It’s her birthday today.

I haven’t written all that much about Faye Dunaway – at least in a concentrated way – although I’ve seen all of her big and rightfully iconic performances many times. I think she’s a fascinating actress, in her courage and precision, in her absolute don’t-give-a-shit-about-being-likable bravery, very very rare in today’s younger generation of actors. Now we all want to SYMPATHIZE with Diana Christensen in Network, we want to know her BACKSTORY, we want to FEEL for her, poor woman making it in a sexist world. Okay, okay, that’s part of it. But we see Diana at the END of all that. She’s sacrificed her humanity, her capacity to feel for other people (if she ever had that capability to begin with. Maybe the point is: In order to make it like Diana has made it, you have to be that ruthless. No other options. People like Diana – truncated emotionally, limited, single-minded – are the ones who “make it”). Faye Dunaway didn’t care about sentimental-shmoopy backstory. Diana Christensen is a symptom of a large societal problem, but she is also its AVATAR.


Network

And Dunaway did not shy away from that. She loved Diana, she loved her strength and creativity. But she understood the woman’s ugliness too. Having an orgasm as she imagines the good TV ratings in her future – having an orgasm BECAUSE of good ratings (a moment “stolen” in an homage in Francis Ford Coppola’s Megalopolis – is one of the most bizarre and disturbing sex scenes in American cinema, and to have a gorgeous movie star play such a scene was evidence of how everything changed in 1970s film. It was Dunaway’s era. The 60s discovered her, the 70s let her LOOSE. Stanwyck could have played such a scene, would have played such a scene if she came up in another era. She and Dunaway have similar qualities. With all Dunaway’s beauty, she was drawn to ugliness.


Chinatown

I do want to take a moment to shout out a lesser-known film of hers, Puzzle of a Downfall Child, directed by Jerry Schatzberg and written by Carole Eastman (who also co-wrote Five Easy Pieces with Bob Rafelson – they were nominated for an Academy Award). There are some similarities between Five Easy Pieces and Puzzle of a Downfall Child, but Puzzle doesn’t have the cache of Five Easy Pieces because …. why. Dunaway is more remote than Jack Nicholson? No. That doesn’t hold water. Nicholson’s character in Five Easy Pieces is more “relatable” than Dunaway’s in Puzzle? “Relatable” to whom? I relate to BOTH. There are many many many women who can relate to Puzzle of a Downfall Child, so why should it be considered LESS relatable, just because it’s about a woman? At this point in our cultural history, we can not allow the male point-of-view to be considered the DEFAULT. Combat that attitude whenever you see it.


Puzzle of a Downfall Child

When I interviewed Dan Callahan about his book The Art of American Screen Acting: Volume 2, we discussed his chapter on Faye Dunaway (among other things), and he specifically referenced Puzzle of a Downfall Child, which capitalized on Dunaway’s very unique strengths: her otherworldly beauty (the character is a high-fashion model) and her strange dissociated quality.

The only other thing I’ve written about her is very close to my heart: I devoted one of my Film Comment columns to Emir Kusturica’s Arizona Dream , a nearly-lost film – and carelessly chopped up for its US DVD release – a film that has haunted my dreams for 20+ years, ever since I saw it during its 5-day run at the Chicago Art Institute. The film stars Johnny Depp, Jerry Lewis, Lili Taylor and Faye Dunaway, with Vincent Gallo in a smaller but crucial role. Faye Dunaway got to utilize parts of herself in this film – her whimsy, her humor (Dunaway is not known for her humor!) – and also got to use the things she’s known for – glamour, on-the-edge emotional frenzies, repression, madness, sexuality.


Arizona Dream

It’s one of Dunaway’s best performances, and it’s a disgrace how this gorgeous film was treated – mis-read by critics – butchered by the studio – and still, to this day, nearly un-see-able in its original form (you have to keep an eye out for it on YouTube, sometimes the original version shows up there).


Arizona Dream

Faye Dunaway plays a lunatic matriarch obsessed with building a flying machine. She has a passionate love affair with the much-younger Johnny Depp. One of the thrills of my time in grad school was getting to ask Dunaway about this film. This film that almost nobody else has even seen. She got so excited when I asked the question. She literally bounced in her chair, and moved forward to the edge of her seat. (I wrote about our interaction in my piece.) She LOVED doing the film and was very upset about its failure.


Arizona Dream

It’s a dream of a movie, and Dunaway is a dream IN it.


Bonnie and Clyde

 
 
Thank you so much for stopping by. If you like what I do, and if you feel inclined to support my work, here’s a link to my Venmo account. And I’ve launched a Substack, Sheila Variations 2.0, if you’d like to subscribe.

This entry was posted in Actors, Movies, On This Day and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

8 Responses to “When I was discovered, everything happened like dominos. I don’t know how to talk about it now because it’s too mindblowing. It’s so unreal, and yet it’s real.” — Faye Dunaway

  1. Bill Wolfe says:

    I recommend her performance in a supporting role in Little Big Man. I *loved* this movie when it came out – I think I was 12 then – and saw it several times with a friend at the theater in the little town in North Carolina where my family was staying that summer. My friend and I could quote pages of dialogue from that movie. Dunaway’s performance covers a range of emotions, from the resentful wariness of her wife married to a blowhard religious zealot early on to the wistful, ribald hooker Dustin Hoffman’s character stumbles across later in the story. She gets to show colors I never saw in her other roles, notwithstanding the excellence of her work in those roles. Based on her work in this movie and Bonnie and Clyde, I think Arthur Penn must have “gotten” her in a way other directors did not. Once the American New Wave shut down sometime in the early Eighties, no one knew what to do with her.

    • sheila says:

      // Once the American New Wave shut down sometime in the early Eighties, no one knew what to do with her. //

      Really good point. And she was already slightly un-place-able, a throwback in a lot of ways – like Chinatown, a Barbara Stanwyck type role – played to perfection – she has that style of acting DOWN. But she could also be wholly modern.

  2. Mike Molloy says:

    Another where Dunaway shows not-her-usual-colors, is Frank Perry’s “Doc”, with Stacy Keach as Doc Holliday, and Dunaway as his flame, Katie. I went into it not really believing I would buy Faye Dunaway as an old-west prostitute, but she was great.

    A sharp contrast to, say, Audrey Hepburn as a frontierswoman in John Huston’s “The Unforgiven”, where Hepburn seems like her usual perfect, straight-from-the-best-Swiss-finishing-school self, not really credible as a child of the old west. Not that I ever want to say anything bad about Audrey Hepburn, just to note that Dunaway, remarkably, did not come across that way at all.

    • sheila says:

      Oh yeah – Doc!! Dunaway is great in that!

      Audrey Hepburn is limited. Her mannered line readings were part of her charm but worked well in pretty limited contexts (imo). She has undeniable star power but versatility wasn’t really her thing. She was too specific. I think my favorite Hepburn performance is in Peter Bogdanovich’s They All Laughed – where she is heartbreaking and romantic and soft and loving. She’s amazing in it.

  3. Maddy says:

    Faye is a phenomenal actress. I want to encourage everyone to check out her film Oklahoma Crude(1973). One of rawest performances she has ever given. A massively underrated flick in both her filmography and that of George C. Scott. Both of them are at the top of their game and match each other in every scene. John Mills is terrific in that too. Hardly anyone seems to have seen this.

    Love her performance as Diana in Network. She clearly has had to be ten times more ruthless and tough than her male news colleagues in order to get their attention and respect. One of the most complex and interesting film characters.

    • sheila says:

      wowww Maddy I haven’t seen Oklahoma Crude. thank you so much for the rec. I will totally check it out.

      • Maddy says:

        Would love to know your thoughts. Isn’t it funny how some films seem to completely disappear under the radar for so long?

        I wish she and George C. Scott had worked together more. Both such deep actors. They were never afraid to be emotionally vulnerable, ugly, enraged and let us see it all.

        • sheila says:

          I know, it’s so weird – I haven’t heard anything about it, and that’s very strange especially considering it’s Dunaway and George C. Scott! I just looked it up and it’s directed by Stanley Kramer as well!

          I just read Roger Ebert’s review: three stars! it sounds really good and right up my alley.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.