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Beyond
the Forest (1949) begins with this erudite prologue:
| This
is the story of evil. Evil is headstrongis puffed up.
For our souls sake it is salutary for us to view it in all its
ugly nakedness once in a while. Thus we may know how those who
deliver themselves over to it end up like the scorpion, in a
mad frenzy, stinging themselves to eternal death. |
Next,
a narrator takes us on a walking tour of Loyalton, Wisconsin where
the quaint small town streets are deserted. It seems that every
man, woman and child in this sleepy mill town is at a coroner's
inquest. In the packed courtroom, Bette Davis leaps into camera
frame, "Why should I kill him? It was an accident!" she
shrieks as she fiddles with her black Morticia Addams wig. As if
all this weren't enough, the picture starts to disolve and the story
heads into flashback. So far we've had a cautionary prologue, expository
voice-over narration and a flash back
all within the
first five minutes!
After
a day spent fishing with her physician husband, scheming Rosa Moline
(Davis) sets an elaborate plan into action. First, she gets rid
of her hubby (Joseph Cotton) with news that one of his patients
has gone into labor. With a phony twisted ankle as her excuse not
to go back to town, she stays behind and shoots defenseless woodland
creatures. "They irritate me," she tells Moose (Minor
Watson) a grizzled old-timer and recovering alcoholic. Once he's
passed out from the drink Rosa has thoughtfully provided, she hightails
it to nearby Latimer Lodge for a rendezvous with wealthy Chicago
industrialist Neil Latimer (David Brian). While reclining on a bovine
throw pillow in front of a romantic fire, Rosa demands to know why
he hasn't written her.
"Anything
I had to say to you," he tells her, "I wouldn't put on
paper."
"Say
it now," she commands.
"I
don't need words."
As
the night wears on, Louis Moline delivers a baby boy. But the child's
mother is gravely ill and he must try and find the necessary medicine.
In
the game room of the lodge, Neil and Rosa have a frank discussion
about their relationship. "What do you want?"
"You,"
she deadpans. "You could get me out. I'm the kind of woman
you need. I want you to marry me." When Neil heartily laughs
at her assertiveness, she slaps the smile right off his face. Apparently,
she is the kind of woman he needs and proves it with a hungry
kiss.
When
Louis finally returns to the modest home that he shares with his
wife, Davis delivers one of the most famous lines of her career,
"What a dump." Davis barely mutters the throwaway line
that would later gain notoriety after being featured in the play
Who's Afraid of Virginia Wolf?
The
next day, Rosa sashays through town on her way to the post office.
Her PO box only holds junk mail. There are no letters from her lover.
A pair of housewives coolly assess Rosa as she dejectedly heads
back home. "Even when we were in high school," one of
them whispers, "Rosa was always different from everybody else.
It's hard on Rosa being tied to a town like this."
To
which the other woman can only reply, "It's hard on the town."
Once
Rosa returns to her "dump", she takes out her frustrations
on her half-breed maid. "Mrs. Moline, let's not start calling
each other names," her sassy servant (Dona Drake) warns, "I've
got some fancy one's saved up just aching to be used."
From
the front porch of her home, Rosa seethes under the oppressive evening
glow of the town mill, "If I don't get out of here I'll die,"
she vows, the venom of her hatred practically oozing from her every
pore, "If I don't get out of here I hope I die
and
burn."
Rosa's
ennui is briefly interrupted by the arrival of Moose's estranged
daughter, Carol (Ruth Roman). When no one is looking, Rosa tries
on Carol's fur coat. The coat represents all the fine, luxurious
things that Rosa has been denied. As she strokes the fur and puffs
on a cigarette, Rosa hatches another scheme. With a little money,
she could really live it up in Chicago.
When
the townsfolk start to give Doc Moline the cold shoulder, it doesn't
take him long to figure out that Rosa has gone through his business
ledgers, called all his patients and forced them to pay their past-due
doctor's bills. "Here's the money you went begging for,"
he tells her, tossing the money at her feet, "If you take it,
don't come back."
Rosa
heads to the windy city without a backwards glance. Rosa spends
most of her first afternoon waiting in Latimer's office. He calls
later that evening and they go for a drive together. Neil doesn't
pull any punches and tells her that he plans to marry a society
girl.
Understandably,
Rosa is furious. "I came here, dragged myself on my hands and
knees with no pride. Me, Rosa Moline! And you don't want me, I'm
not good enough!" she shouts, leaping from the car, "You
showed me my place alright!"
In
a bit of dialog that was used in the trailer, but cut from the print
used for the MGM/UA video, Rosa concludes her tirade against Neil
with the line that she was "Just good enough for a romp in
the woods!"
Rosa
gives herself a pep talk as she walks the gritty Chicago streets,
"I'm not just any woman
I'm Rosa Moline." Rejected,
rain soaked and laughed at by vagrants, Rosa begrudgingly admits
defeat and returns to Loyalton where Louis takes her back without
question. Later, Rosa tells her husband that she's going to have
a child.
At
a grand birthday party Carol has thrown in Moose's honor, Rosa square
dances with the other townsfolk before slipping away for a clandestine
meeting with Neil who has flown in especially for the party.
Neil
has called off his engagement and tells Rosa that she's what he
really needs, "I'll doll you up Rosa, hang diamonds on you
like a Christmas tree and then I'm gonna trot you out and say 'Look,
this is the kind of woman I want, a woman with guts' and you can
wipe your feet on all of them."
Happiness
seems to be within Rosa's grasp. But Moose brings things to a halt
the next morning. While everyone prepares for a hunting party, he
tells her, "I'm on to you and Latimer. You're something for
the birds Rosa."
"And
you're something to make the corn grow tall." Rosa is too close
to achieving her dreams to let an old man stand in her way. With
her keen marksman's eye, she makes sure that Moose won't be telling
anybody anything.
At
the inquest, Rosa pleads that the shooting was accidental. The judge
believes her. After the trial and Moose's funeral, Neil postpones
his plans with Rosa. If they ran away together it would look too
suspicious. He returns to Chicago, leaving Rosa to stew in her hatred
and ambitions. It isn't long before she reaches the boiling point.
"After
I've told you a few things," she shouts at her husband, "you
may not want me or my baby." She confesses to the affair and
to killing Moose. "I've been hunting all my life, did you ever
know me to miss?"
One
afternoon, Rosa disguises herself in her maid's ratty street clothes
and takes a bus to the next town. Louis follows his wife and picks
her up from a nondescript office. We're shown the business plaque
outside the attorney's office and are led to believe that Rosa is
seeking a divorce. As originally scripted, Rosa was waiting to see
a doctor, in hopes of getting rid of the baby.
The
scene that follows was also subject to censorship. In certain parts
of the country it was cut from the film. As Louis drives his wife
home, Rosa leaps from the car and down a steep embankment in a reckless
attempt to induce a miscarriage. Whether or not she lost the baby
is never revealed. We assume that she did when we're shown Rosa
recuperating in bed at home.
In
a single afternoon, things go from bad to worse. A victim of blood
poisoning, Rosa becomes feverish and incoherent, rambling on and
on to her husband about the things she never had. "You really
hate me don't you?" she slurs, "You finally got the guts
to hate me
well congratulations!"
Louis
must drive to the next town to get her more medicine. While he's
away, Rosa gets dressed and prepares to leave. "The choo-choo's
gonna carry me away." Sweaty, disheveled and stumbling around
as if she's drunk, Rosa enlists her maid's help in putting on her
cha-cha heels.
"Chicago,
Chicago, that toddling town
" she mumbles as she paints
on her make-up and makes her way through town to the train. Onward
she trudges, the trains sharp whistle a seductive siren's song to
her feverish brain. Finally, mere steps from the depot, she collapses
as the train leaves for Chicago without her.
Louis
arrives at the station to find Rosa face down in the dirt where,
like the scorpion, she has stung herself to eternal death
or
something like that.
Beyond
the Forest was an unequivocal flop when it was released. Bette
Davis received the worst reviews of her career, something even Davis
herself couldn't argue with. In the 1974 biography Mother Goddam,
Davis says that among the film's many problems was that, "It
was terrible because I was too old for the part."
Indeed,
casting a 40-year-old actress as the most dissatisfied but desirable
woman in town was just one on the countless decisions that doomed
Beyond the Forest from the moment shooting began. It was
the cumulative power of those behind-the-scenes blunders that resulted
in a bad movie perfect storm.
Another
problem was the casting of amiable Joseph Cotton, "Why should
any wife want to get away from him?" Davis questioned. Why
indeed? The entire premise of the film depended on the fact that
Davis, who looked positively frumpy her Edith Head costumes, was
supposed to be the hottest thing around and desperate to escape
to the big city. If a grown woman such as Rosa hated living with
a nice small-town doctor, why didn't she just leave? Upon close
examination, nearly all the motivations and plot twists fall apart
they
simply don't make any sense.
Perhaps
this is why Davis, in an attempt to overshadow the story's shortcomings,
cranks her performance up to maximum, achieving a level of self-parody
that is truly breathtaking. Director King Vidor certainly wasn't
going to ask her to tone it down. To Vidor, subtlety was anathema.
Before undertaking this film, he'd proven that no dramatic situation
was too over the top with the classics Duel in the Sun (1946)
and The Fountainhead (1949).
Beyond
the Forest is also the film that ended Davis' long association
with Warner Brothers. Both Jack Warner and Davis were unsatisfied
with Beyond the Forest and, as the film neared completion,
Davis threatened to walk off the picture if Warner didn't release
her from her contract. Jack Warner was fed up with Davis' constant
demands and Davis was tired of her continual struggle for quality
projects. After eighteen years they parted ways.
Bette
Davis had a long career filled with roles that not only proved her
range as an actress, but also proved that she was one of the very
best in her profession. But every actor, no matter how good, has
a few flops on their resume. Film scholars might do well to compare
the achievements of Now Voyager (1942) or Jezebel
(1938) with films like Beyond the Forest simply because the
disparity is so intriguing.
Beyond
the Forest is, quite simply, a towering achievement in camp/cult
cinema and is not to be missed.

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