Possessed

Nominated for Best Actress (Joan Crawford) in 1947.

When I think of old school Hollywood sirens, images of histrionics, of smashing perfect eyebrows and pouty mouths on brawny men's chests, and lots of clutching of chests and faces are the first to come to mind.  That's a terrible way to think, because these women are so much more than that, and also because there's surprisingly little of those images that actually occur in the movies.

Except in this one.  There's a lot of flailing, but for good reason.  Joan Crawford plays a home nurse who falls for the local gigolo.  He spurns her love, and in an unrelated turn of events, she slowly loses her mind.  The movie gave a surprisingly accurate depiction of the onset and diagnosis of schizophrenia, so accurate in fact that the film is sited in a 2003 text called "Reel Psychiatry" (which I highly recommend).  I never would have imagined such a portrayal could have come in 1947, especially since mental illness is almost infallibly misrepresented in modern films.  Curtis Bernhardt did a wonderful job of setting up tension and making the audience question Louise's reality.

So am still getting used to the styles of films made over half a century ago, but I am enjoying every minute of it.  It's actually becoming more immersive for me, I think because of what I am so used to watching for 30 years.  So I got that going for me.  Which is nice.