Performance
makes The Three Faces of Eve
by
Kristin Battestella
Based
upon the book by Doctors Corbett Thigpen and Hervey Cleckley, writer
and director Nunnally Johnson's (The Man in the Gray
Flannel Suit) black and white
1957 drama The Three Faces of Eve chronicles
the case of what was then called Multiple Personality Disorder for
Joanne Woodward's demure southern housewife Eve White. Her
husband Ralph (David Wayne) can't understand her change in persona
when Eve Black goes out partying, but Doctor
Luther (Lee J. Cobb) believes he can reunite the dissociated
identities.
The
Three Faces of Eve opens
with an onscreen explanation poorly equating Dissociative Identity
Disorder to a thin man inside a fat person and Jekyll metaphors
before a somewhat stilted play like staging and voiceovers interrupt
the narrative with date, time, and treatment specifics. When the
narrator breaks the exposition right down to the minute, The Three
Faces of Eve becomes a case
study rather than a drama, and revealing the symptoms or telling us
when something bad is going to happen undercuts the suspense,
intrigue, character sympathy, and viewer immersion. Without
the on the nose clinical patronizing, The Three Faces of Eve is
much better – headaches, anger, and arguments play out with off
camera screams and violence. Conversations between doctor and patient
reveal blackouts and hearing voices. Understandably, there's a
certain anticipation in seeing the personalities come out, but
the first manifestation is a well done, unexpected transition from
married meek to flirty and feeling fine. Is this just a discontented
housewife lashing out or something more? Both are unacceptable in the
fifties, leading to institution stays and winking innuendo with
exposed on the bed versus covering up visual suggestions. Although
it's annoying when the doctor can call a name back and forth to
change her personas like Multiple Personalities are merely some
hypnosis party trick, it's also sad an innocent woman can be so
prompted. She may seem to be no harm, but a man isn't going to take
no for an answer after all these flirtations, and above all, none of
these personalities wants to be hurt. Unfortunately, this illness
comes between her mind and her family, leading to divorce and a
daughter taken away as the case worsens with suicidal risks and a
third personality. Not only does The Three Faces of Eve oddly
announce a death before it happens, but I also wish the title didn't
give away the third manifestation. The dual performance builds
enough conflict before the new identity emerges, and the audience
already wonders how these ladies can co-exist as our trouble gal
struggles with no memory and a late flashback. While the recounting
of creepy, dark places and a visual representation of her tormented
state of mind are necessary in revealing the what went wrong
repression, the sense of imminent internal collapse instead becomes a
quick Hollywood ending. Rather than a conclusive healing, the trauma
feels lame and the resolution artificial. Fortunately for The
Three Faces of Eve, the reason why and the saccharin results
aren't as important as the journey of self discovery – no matter
now many selves you have.
Eve
White is a meek housewife hesitant about her amnesia spells, and
Oscar winner Joanne Woodward (Rachel, Rachel) immediate
has us on her side when unexplained clothes, threats against her
daughter, and suspicious trips make the soft spoken Mrs. White seem
like somebody else. Eve is clearly scared of losing her mind, but
Woodward is exceptional at the distinct personality changes –
slouching, tossing her hat, and removing itchy stockings as Eve
Black. She's no dreary dope like Mrs. White, hates her jerk husband,
and says their daughter isn't hers. She turns up the music loud,
jiggles her caboose, and says things Eve White never would, like how
she married her husband just because she should. We don't hate
Eve Black, but are torn with sadness just like the returning wife,
who's confused and embarrassed by her alter's wild hair and
unbuttoned shirt. While in the institution, she reads poetry –
until Ms. Black in her short shorts wants to tell the orderly a few
limericks. Living alone for treatment gives her freedom complete with
a sassy nightclub performance, sultry singing, and dancing barefoot
with soldiers. Ironically, being alone allows Mrs. White to stand up
for herself, even if that means she has to choose between her family
and her mental health. Today The Three Faces of Eve may seem
tame, but that is only because of the acting conventions of the time
compared to now when all the wild, bad girl personality would be
shown onscreen. In that respect, however, it makes Woodward's
performance all the more provocative. We see the manifestations, but
they give us room to wonder about the internal workings of her
trouble mind and what's going on with each individual. Eve Black says
just because we don't see what she does, doesn't mean she doesn't do
it. It's a wonderfully delivered line suggesting all the viewer needs
to know, but Mrs. White is the one who ends up slapped and left on
the motel room floor. The finale here feels like such a letdown
because the fifties film restraints don't live up to Woodward's
discomfort in the disturbing “Please, I don't want to.” reveal.
Lee
J. Cobb's (On the Waterfront) composite Doctor Luther is
initially astonished but remains sympathetic of Eve's plight. He cuts
away family emotions to find the facts, asking her how she can
explain the things Mr. White says she does. Luther seeks the reason
and logic behind her fear but gets the pieces of the puzzle from not
just one, but all three personalities. His medical partners
immediately suspect she is a fake, and the men wonder if her unhappy
marriage is merely making her act out and pretend to be someone else.
Today we know it is simplistic to dismiss a woman as unfulfilled
rather than consider a mental illness, but The Three Faces of Eve
presents Doctor Luther as
sincere in his reasoning with each personality. He asks Eve Black not
to come out and wants to tell Mrs. White what is happening in
hopes of reuniting the personas. Luther confers that neither Mrs.
White or Eve Black are fit to be a wife and mother – each is
fragmented and not a responsible or capable person. Where his
colleagues blame the patient, he uses hypnosis to find the root of
her manifestations. Luther is perplexed, but genuinely strives to
help reveal and heal her terrible childhood experience. Older,
frustrated husband David Wayne (How to Marry a Millionaire),
however, is a working man who can't understand what's gotten into his
wife. He has to come home and get tough on the phone over an
expensive bill and threatens to slap his wife when he thinks she is
lying. His harsh is understandable for the time – Ralph doesn't
have to be likable and doesn't seem very smart but he's a stern
family man keeping food on the table who will give his wife a good
talking to whether she's delicate or not. We believe him when he
threatens Eve for harming their daughter, yet he can't comprehend the
doctor's diagnosis. Ralph has to tone down his temper, get a better
job, and send Eve money, but it isn't easy for him to accept
treatment that separates his family. When Eve Black is out at the
clubs and the marriage finally comes to blows, Ralph's more worried
about people laughing behind his back or thinking him a fool than
what's best for his wife.
The
crisp silver screen Cinemascope still looks sharp on a 4K television,
and there are some fine fifties trucks, classic cars, vintage
telephones, fedoras, and white gloves to see in The Three Faces of
Eve. Fashion is simply but expertly used to contrast our
competing personalities – sassy pumps, fancy sequins, and black
lace slip dresses versus Peter Pan collars and demure cardigans.
Leather chairs and bookshelves represent the male doctor's domain
while white cabinets and cheery curtains represent the mid century
woman's kitchen before the missus' place in the home is upset by
swanky nights on the town, rented rooms, and the now single woman in
the workplace. Look at that giant switchboard! Of the time
seductions, however, remain hot and bothered. There may be separate
beds in the motel room, but the man and his wife not wife sit on the
same bed as she removes her stockings and convinces him to buy her
something prettier than the old red velvet dress she's wearing.
Although great swing tunes and singing accent the scandalous
behavior, noticeable music crescendos sometimes give away the
forthcoming identity switch. The most stunning moments happen when
there is no music or dolly and the tears come forth. Some of the
Georgia accent permeating The Three Faces of Eve isn't always
reflected in the subtitles, either, which may be confusing for
viewers not familiar with the diction. Up close shots and cross
coverage that doesn't match the wide shots also feel slower, with
firmly fifties editing and pace. Fortunately, the camera is used to
great effect with intense zooms and tight two shots as the patient
confides her fears. Mirrors and reflections parallel personality
transitions, and the visual scale effects in the finale set off the
dark place and trouble state of mind.
The
Three Faces of Eve is dated in
its fifties framework. The mix of case study and then sensational
makes numerous mistakes about this misunderstood condition, and the
real life liberties will have interested audiences seeking out
Christine Sizemore's original case and her subsequent reading
materials. Thanks to the disjointed narrations and loosely
strung together vignettes, one almost wishes there was a re-cut of
The Three Faces of Eve, for
the story deserved better writing and direction not some kind of
textbook format. Thankfully,
Woodward's performance anchors the drama by making viewers
compassionate about not one or two but three characters in conflict.
These distinct personalities are all clearly broken, and Woodward
keeps the suffering of each person no matter how many at the
forefront. The Three Faces of Eve is
always worth revisiting for a then versus now context thanks to her
fine portrayal.
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