{"id":162360,"date":"2026-01-14T08:00:37","date_gmt":"2026-01-14T13:00:37","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/?p=162360"},"modified":"2026-01-13T08:50:22","modified_gmt":"2026-01-13T13:50:22","slug":"faye-dunaway","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/?p=162360","title":{"rendered":"“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"},"content":{"rendered":"

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\nBonnie and Clyde<\/i><\/p>\n

\nIt’s her birthday today. <\/p>\n

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<\/i>, 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. <\/p>\n

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\nNetwork<\/i><\/p>\n

\nAnd 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<\/i> – 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. <\/p>\n

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\nChinatown<\/i><\/p>\n

I do want to take a moment to shout out a lesser-known film of hers, Puzzle of a Downfall Child<\/i>, directed by Jerry Schatzberg and written by Carole Eastman (who also co-wrote Five Easy Pieces<\/i> with Bob Rafelson – they were nominated for an Academy Award). There are some similarities between Five Easy Pieces<\/i> and Puzzle of a Downfall Child<\/i>, but Puzzle<\/i> doesn’t have the cache of Five Easy Pieces<\/i> because …. why. Dunaway is more remote than Jack Nicholson? No. That doesn’t hold water. Nicholson’s character in Five Easy Pieces<\/i> is more “relatable” than Dunaway’s in Puzzle<\/i>? “Relatable” to whom? I relate to BOTH. There are many many many women who can relate to Puzzle of a Downfall Child<\/i>, 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. <\/p>\n

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\nPuzzle of a Downfall Child<\/i><\/p>\n

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

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\nThe only other thing I’ve written about her is very close to my heart: I devoted one of my Film Comment<\/i> columns to Emir Kusturica\u2019s Arizona Dream <\/em><\/a>, 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. <\/p>\n

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\nArizona Dream<\/i><\/p>\n

\nIt’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). <\/p>\n

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\nArizona Dream<\/i><\/p>\n

\nFaye 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. <\/p>\n

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\nArizona Dream<\/i><\/p>\n

\nIt’s a dream of a movie, and Dunaway is a dream IN it. <\/p>\n

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\nBonnie and Clyde<\/i><\/p>\n

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\nThank 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<\/a>. And I’ve launched a Substack, Sheila Variations 2.0<\/a>, if you’d like to subscribe.<\/em> <\/small><\/p>\n