#*5ff

Not-lead characters that I adore beyond reason: An Advent Calendar

Day 23: Flame O'Neill (Celeste Holm) in Champagne for Caesar [1950]

Celeste Holm is kickass,  and a comic genius, so it was mainly a matter of which of her characters to choose. I was going to go with Anne Dettrey from Gentleman’s Agreement, because she’s so cool (also bonus swoony young!Greg), but then I rewatched Champagne for Caesar and she’s just so bloody fabulous as Flame O’Neill that it was a no-brainer. (Also bonus swoony older!Ronnie). CFC is a joy from start to finish, but it really kicks in first when Vincent Price appears, and then it extra kicks in when Celeste sweeps into Ronnie’s sick room, all beatific smiles and ‘I’m a gift from the Billings, Montana Beauregard Bottomley Fan Club’.

Flame/Celeste is just brilliant, and also pulls off the always difficult thing of showing the audience she’s acting while fooling the fella; what’s also impressive is that although it’s a performance of pitch-perfect comedy, it’s not one note - she has to effect the tricky manoeuvre of convincingly going from Mata Hari to falling for her target, and she does it with ease and a lightness of touch that’s totally in keeping with the film. 

Not-lead characters that I adore beyond reason: An Advent Calendar

Day 14 : Jonathan Wilk (Orson Welles) in Compulsion [1958]

You knew Orson was going to turn up at some point in this advent calendar, didn’t you? Unlike that other prince of the supporting role (Peter Lorre) not many of Orson’s characters hold a place in my heart, and while I spent a good day arguing with myself about whether Harry Lime is a lead role or not (pros: title character, everyone constantly talking about him, show-stealer, evil yet magnetic; cons: minimal screen time) and deciding hell yeah of course he is (also, I adore Orson’s performance but Harry IS despicable), it wasn’t hard to choose my fave supporting role.

Compulsion is a cracker of a film, all crisp black and white and seething with ambiguity and amorality, and of course Dean Stockwell’s face is very pretty. And then it turns into something else entirely with the introduction of Jonathan Wilk. Up to then it treads the same ground as Rope (albeit more stylishly, and for me, all round more interestingly); then suddenly we’re into courtroom drama and ethics and the morality of the death penalty, argued beautifully and with great humanity and weariness by a convincingly aged-up Orson.