Wednesday, January 05, 2011

Nomad Widescreen: Letter from an Unknown Woman


For Nomad Widescreen, the Siren fulfills her longstanding threat to write up one of her all-time favorite performances from any actress in any movie: Joan Fontaine in Letter from an Unknown Woman. Nothing but the best for Glenn.


Lisa has been living in this shabby-genteel boarding house with her mother, a woman who seems nice enough but as ordinary as a bar of soap. We get glimpses of the girl’s routine: shapeless clothes, drab furniture, dim-witted playmates, a whole day set aside each week to beat the dust out of the rugs. Lisa is one of those creatures who sometimes arise in such an environment, intelligent and sensitive in a way wholly unsuited to the life laid out for her. And so she falls in love, not with a face or a voice, but with the sound of a piano. Lisa listens to Stefan’s practicing with an expression as ardent as any she shows later. When Lisa finally sees Stefan and pulls the door open for him — which Fontaine does not tenderly, but with a swift jerk — she isn't enamored for the first time. She is already in love, her feelings bound up with his music. His handsome face is just the fulfillment.


*****

Elsewhere, at the New York Times the mighty Dave Kehr comes through with a beautiful piece on Hideko Takamine. The Los Angeles Times chimes in. And DJW at the consistently marvelous Lawyers, Guns and Money also gives the lady her due. Consider the Siren's heart warmed.

41 comments:

joe said...

Siren,

The excerpt from your piece on "Letter" is lovely-- guess it's time for me to begin my free trial at good old Nomad Editions to see the rest!

P.S. The link to the Dave Kehr Takamine piece is missing an "h" there at the beginning:

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/01/04/movies/04takamine.html

P.P.S. I vote for your banner picture to always include Joan Fontaine, but I have a foolish, smitten heart.

JustJoan said...

Just read the full piece on Nomad and again marvel at how well your sensibilities march with my own. I first saw this as a child, with my mother. Then I was intoxicated by the music and, although I did not then know it, the sensuality of Ophuls' mastery of camera movement. What stayed with me over the years -- until my adult perceptions caught up with my childish memories -- was the scene in the Prater amusement park. The idea of the lovers visiting and then revisiting scenes they would never see in reality captivated me. Later, I appreciated that there was another layer Lisl brought to the experience: her memories of places she had seen with her father. The older I get, in fact, the more I read into that episode, and it makes me forgive Stefan much to recall that for that one time at least, he never wanted his time with Lisl to end.

Arthur S. said...

I think of all the Ophuls heroines, the one character who is the most sympathetic or likable(in the conventional sense) is Joan Fontaine in Letter from an Unknown Woman. It's such an unusual film the way it handles her posthumous subjectivity and tackles romantic ardor with compassion yet clarity. It's also maybe Ophuls' most influential film. Martin Scorsese mentions seeing it over and over on TV in his youth and cited it as his favourite Ophuls at the time he made The Age of Innocence and it's certainly the best filmic portrait of what Carol Reed calls derisively in the opening narration of The Third Man, "the Old Vienna."

That said while it is Joan Fontaine's apotheosis as an actress/performer/star, for me her best work is Suspicion.

X. Trapnel said...

Any Siren posting on Ophuls/Fontaine is an EVENT, and I'm thinking it through as intently as Lisa "prepared herself" for Stefan. A quick opservation though. The tune played by the military band is "Evening Star" from Tannhauser in which a young girl's pure love is seen as forshadowing her early death. It is then followed by the Radetzky March, musical symbol of Austria's operetta militarism, which will in turn be the precipitant of Lisa's death.
Letter is suffused with musical imagery and symbolism. I'm always cheered by the sight of Mahler's (and Joseph Joachim's!) portrait in Stefan's apartment

The Siren said...

Joe, thanks, the Kehr link is fixed! You should be able to click through to the Letter piece, I still can. I have had a bad time with linking to Nomad but this one should work.

JustJoan, that amusement park sequence is one of the most haunting that Ophuls ever filmed. Stefan really is enchanted with Lisa at that point, I believe; it's just that his dilettante nature means he can't sustain it, any more than he can sustain dedication to his art.

Arthur, I also have a soft spot for Suspicion, chronically underrated as it is.

XT, I didn't recognize Tannhauser at all! Is that when we first see them walking to meet the lieutenant, and then the March when she is actually perambulating with him?

JustJoan said...

Thank you for mentioning Radetzky March, X.T., which has now thankfully shoved Prokofiev's Lieutenant Kijé out of my brain pan. I saw The Horse's Mouth two nights ago and couldn't stop playing and replaying it.
Ophuls' use of music is always superb. And he seems very devoted to Strausses, isn't he -- whether with one "s" or two.

Vanwall said...

I, too, saw this countless times on TV as I grew up - my father, a bit of a polymath, especially musically, pointed out the music keys that foreshadowed, M.X; he, like he taught me, loved films with clever music.

This is as pretty perfect film, and thanks for the "bar of soap" description, Siren - I know a few of those still.

I do agree about this being very much Lisa's film, it's very aspect is of a particular woman's film, with the men, including Jourdan, easily replaceable - but not Fontaine - her face was made for a questioning desperation. It's apparent more so in this one than in others, as well, and I'll use the "Red Shoes" and my view the film is really about Wahlbrook's Lermontov, not Shearer's Vicky; while in LFAUW it's patently obvious that Jourdan's Stefan is the manipulated character, even after Lisa is gone, so Fontaine's performance is the deciding factor for me. Never was a seduction, life long and devious, more inside out than in this film - and a performance not just courageous, but defining.

JustJoan said...

Anton Walbrook! My absolute favorite film man, his only competition possibly being Jean Gabin. If I had a virtual reel of favorite film moments -- for now, it resides only in my memory -- probably a third of it would be comprised of pieces of him. There are so many iconic scenes connected to Anton Walbrook, but since we are now speaking of Ophuls, I will settle on one: the little stroll he takes, in his role as Raconteur in La Ronde, as he speaks of the allure of the past, so elegantly leading us from a street square and onto a bridge, then across a row of footlights and into the first tale of the soldier and the streetwalker. Every time I see it in my mind I try to isolate the changes, but I am defeated by the seductive charm of his voice and his effortless grace. Oh yes, I, too, adore the past.

Arthur S. said...

Tag Gallagher argues in his video essay on LETTER that the film is very particular in how it emphasizes Lisa's subjectivity(through the letter in which she writes her story) and that he considers Lisa an unreliable narrator in the way she constantly presents herself as an innocent to Stefan and the audience and basically reads the film as a story of misplaced obsession disguised as romantic passion by a woman self-conscious of her desires and how she directs it to her addressee. He sees the film as a triumph of how Lisa manipulates Stefan into suicide.

''The Red Shoes'' on the other hand is very much about Vicky Page as it is about Lermontov. The important thing which Powell emphasizes is that she's an artist who must dance, whose life is defined by her art and Lermontov alone can take her to immortality. And don't forget that the final shot of the film, Lermontov is sincerely broken after her death. The emotional devastation at the end is worthy of Pirandello, a playwright of great importance to Ophuls and perhaps Powell. Ophuls was also important to Powell. The opening of ''The Red Shoes'' with the kids barging into the auditorium is a homage to ''Libelei''.

X. Trapnel said...

I haven't read Gallagher's essay but I do agree that the point of view is not always consistent and that Lisa may be an unreliable narrator (for example, how does she overhear the dialog between Madame Spitzer and the old goat seducer?) The unnamed narrator's unreliability is more manifest in Zweig's story in which the letter reads as a desparate act of vengeance (the story is, in general, a good deal harsher). In the film I believe the letter is an act whereby Lisa gives meaning to her life. It is full of pain and love but not bitterness. However, like Scotty Fergusson (please, Siren, don't vaporize me) her destruction of the love object whom she never really sees truly, is partly willed ("I warn you, Lisa...," profiled against a wall of swords; same decor as the de... household).

Ophuls' thematic use and weaveing (the Max Steiner method) of internal anand external music is extraordinary, but it's never been written about to my knowledge, except in passing, perhaps because he never worked with a big name composer, but I sense he always got what he wanted. O. Straus wrote the best music of his career in La Ronde and the waltz theme from Madame de... (DD's theme is by the great Georges van Parys).

Slightly off topic: the first ever compilation of the mysterious Brian Easdale's music for Powell/Pressburger films has just been released in England.

DavidEhrenstein said...

I first encountered LFAUW on TV too. Utterly overhwelmed by it -- especially the climax where we keep waiting for Louis Jourdan to recognize Joan Fontaine and he doesn't.

Back in the theroy-besotted 70's LEAUW was analyzed constantly.

Scarcely needed as it's a perfectly striagthforward film about masochism.

X. Trapnel said...

I can't see that Letter is "about" masochism. Lisa's love does not grow out of pain but out of hope and idealism, a vision of a good life a world more attractive (this will be what Stefan loses as well). The film doesn't wallow Lisa's suffering or ennoble it as in some Greer Garson vehicle; instead she pursues her romantic ideal heroically with Ophuls as her accomplice. This is amor fati and amour fou.

Yojimboen said...

Dear me, I drop out for a month or so and the first topic I get back to reading seriously is about JF, Max O, Walbrook and, inevitably, Red Shoes. It’s as if I never left.

Never a huge fan of the younger de Havilland sister, notwithstanding Letter; Suspicion et al; I always wanted – and want - her to be stronger, less of a victim. Though lately brought to The Constant Nymph by fellow-perv XT, I can’t deny she had enormous potential for something...

(Stop it! Put those thoughts out of your head! She’s playing a fourteen-year-old f’r chrissakes!)

Never would I question her talent, but for every Nymph; Frenchman’s Creek, there’s a relentlessly masochistic Rebecca; Suspicion; Jane Eyre; Affairs of Susan; Ivy and yes, Letter; I just question her taste in roles.

I’m sure it’s just me – I never did care for that moistly doe-eyed, bruised blonde type. But I do like her more than her sister, who never had the luck to work for our Max.

Arthur S. said...

Well I am definitely in favour of Joan over Olivia, not that we have to choose. I like the latter in THE HEIRESS, THE STRAWBERRY BLONDE and a few others but Joan Fontaine at her best with Hitchcock and Ophuls wnt further and higher.

gmoke said...

Letter From an Unknown Woman was produced by Joan Fontaine's production company, Rampart. In a way, she is as much the auteur of that movie os Ophuls

X. Trapnel said...

The mixture as before, Y? We've just been keeping the pot stirred in anticipation of your return. Now to business:

I don't see Joan F. as a passive, bruised victim, rather as an existential heroine in a world she never made, seizing her chances to escape the emotional wastelands prepared for her by Larger Forces. Still waters run deep and one can sound the depths in those adorable doe eyes (and doesn't she know how to use them).

Many plot parallels between The Constant Nymph and Letter.
I have in my possession an 8x10 glossy of a quite legal Joan sunning her ripe, unbruised self. Skin to cloth ratio comparable, say, to Switzerland and the greater land mass of Western Europe. Might change your mind.

Ophuls might indeed have done fine things with sister Olivia. There is at least a photo of Mlle. de H and Mlle. DD grinning at each other on the set of Madame de... (Gary Cooper hovering in the background).

DavidEhrenstein said...

The "hope and idealism" are self-delusion, X. They're there to hdie the pain that she truly desires. She's trappd forever on that stairway watching longingly as Jourdan comes and goes.

The Siren said...

Unfortunately I can't respond at length until much later today, but I must say that I am 100% with XT--the character is not masochistic, especially not as played by JF, and that was the whole impetus behind my Nomad piece.

X. Trapnel said...

Well, David, if she truly desired pain, she could always have stayed in Linz. I see Lisa as braving the possibility, even the probability of pain on the chance--and the chances given her social milieu--are slim of achieving happiness and freedom.

I'm going to go out on a rather shaky limb here and develop (don't worry, briefly) a point I made many, many posts ago. Ophuls is a cinematic adept of the great nineteenth century novelists, a creator of worlds, material social environments (lovingly detailed by the gliding camera) within which emotional psychological dramas are played out. Ironically, this places him at some distance from Schnitzler and Zweig in whose work the "real" world is subsumed within the characters' psyches (Schnitzler was a master of stream of consciousness well before Joyce or Woolf). This is the essence of the moderness of the Viennese literary aesthetic and shows why these novelists preferred the story and novella to the massive, material novel as exemplified by Mann's Buddenbrooks (which Ophuls wanted to film). Your point, David, is more borne out by Zweig's original story where there is a greater sense of self-dramatization and double-edged accusation.

Elizabeth Kerri Mahon said...

I was first introduced to this film by Lawrence Quirk's book Great Romantic Films. It's so heartbreaking, and one of the finest performances by Louis Jourdan as well.

Yojimboen said...

Oh, why not, let’s just go off the 12-meter board blindfolded; aiming for nothing less than a perfect 10, but willing to settle for an undignified - and well-deserved – splat (but nothing in between).

Whatever else I love about this kaffeeklatsch, there is an enormously gratifying warmth easing into that hot-tub of mutual respect and understanding (and almost universal agreement) re the joys bestowed upon us by Messrs Ophuls, Lubitsch, P&P, et al.

The occasional problem surfaces when I feel so far out of the mainstream I hesitate to bring it up; such is the breadth of my adoration of our hostess and the depth of my fear of hurting her feelings (and not being invited back). But…

With very few (aforementioned) exceptions, I cannot abide Joan Fontaine as an actress. There, I’ve said it. It began I think with seeing Suspicion as a kid. I didn’t believe a frame of it. It’s up there among the worst Hitchcock films – mechanically false and duplicitous – like an amateur children’s party conjuror who hasn’t quite mastered misdirection; or worse, like those awful lesser Agatha Christie efforts where the culprit shows up on the last page and the clues for the reader were cheatingly non-existent and you throw the damn book across the room with a “Shit! I could’ve written a better ending than that!”

She has always pissed me off (JF, not AC), and I’ve never taken the time to understand why, till now. M VW says it above “…her face was made for a questioning desperation.” As I’ve said, her talent was sufficiently well displayed in things like Constant Nymph to prove categorically the high quality of her skill and artistry. But…

Her choice of roles intrigues at best, mystifies and depresses at worst; empirically definable as disproportionately masochistic, Joan Fontaine has always been for me the poster child for the cinematic equivalent of battered-wife syndrome. No matter our innate empathy for and anger about the victims of such cruelties, there is always within us that residual impulse to scream, “F’r chrissakes, lady, get the fuck outta there!”

Finally, to further confound the issue, there isn’t a Joan Fontaine movie I wouldn’t watch again. And again. I’ll watch Letter until it melts in the projector - I just wish I didn’t have to watch it through my fingers.

DavidEhrenstein said...

Well Olivia doesn't like her either Yojim.

Here's Steve hayes on Joan in Rebecca.

Vanwall said...

M Yo - I always thought of Fontaine's roles to often be quite closer to real life, or as close as some H'wood romances cand dramas ould come, between the two sisters' choices or assignments.

Unfortunately, and especially, the questioning desperation I mentioned is a staple fact of life for a great many of us, and yeah, I've said get the fuck outta there to too many poor souls myself; a lot of 'em aren't able to for a variety of reasons that often seem to be rolled up into many of the expressions on Fontaine's face in this film. The lure of love in LFAUW isn't defined by barriers other than what Lisa makes for herself, which are fluid and often unknowable just as in real life, and it's damned hard to let go and get the fuck out, if ever, also just as in real life.

If it's any consolation, I also feel she displays the plain happiness of winning over difficult circumstances quite movingly.

Noel Vera said...

I couldn't pore over the film in the same detail as you did, but I did manage to do a back-back comparison with a Chinese version of the film:

Letter from an unknown woman

The Siren said...

I confess: Yojimboen's comment fills me with perverse delight. See, I strongly suspect that there are others out there who also want to sit down at the keyboard and pound out "What on EARTH is it with you and Fontaine, woman?" and yet cannot bring themselves to do so for fear of my...wrath? hurt feelings? pained silence? Anyway, let me assure you, no hard feelings, as indeed I bear no ill will toward whoever it was (there were at least two of you, as I remember) who wearily admitted that George Sanders gives them a giant pain in the tookus. All assent and no dissent make threads a dull boy; polite, witty disagreement is charming, which is just one reason I treasure David Ehrenstein as well.

Anyway, yes, Joan was always playing characters I suppose the English would describe as "wet;" in fact she founded her career on it. To me what makes her particularly talented is the way she often finds to give them intelligence and interest and a little backbone, and so I try to point out those moments. In some of the early roles (The Women, Gunga Din) she gets no chance to flash out at all, and consequently is as lovely as ever but a definite candidate for an Olympia Dukakis-style "Snap out of it!!" I don't blame someone for finding her directors (and she worked with some great ones) more interesting than she is.

I can't remember who it was (another actress I believe, in a moment of candid cattiness) who pointed out that Fontaine's career suffered from her role choices, in that she spent her prime years playing younger than she was; and when age caught up with her, she couldn't do that anymore. Whereas Bette Davis often played older than she was, or characters who aged a lot over the course of the movie, and thus had an easier transition.

The Siren said...

Aha, located the Fontaine-youthful-role-noter. It was columnist Sheilah Graham.

X. Trapnel said...

Golly, Y, does this mean you DON'T want the three-disc Collector's Edition of Damsel in Distress with dance sequences completely restored and lengthened (Joan tripping over a tree, bumping into a fence) that I was going to send you for Arbor Day?

Arthur S. said...

I think that Joan Fontaine's role choices and performances while not endearing to some people and being "wet" or suffering is fascinating because she gives those kind of characters, the ones usually laughed at or exploited for their insecurity, rare poignancy and compassion. Lisa Berndle's obsession for Louis Jourdan is rendered with romanticism and warmth through her performance despite it being a life dedicated to suffering(hence masochism) but through her performance we are able to understand and sympathize with her in a very real way, not unlike James Stewart in VERTIGO who is also someone who mistakes his masochism for romanticism.

This is perhaps why Hitchcock was so fascinated with her, since he was able to convey his own real-life shyness through her performances in REBECCA and especially SUSPICION(for which she genuinely deserved her Oscar). You can imagine modern audiences making it into a kind of comedy or something else but seeing the film you can really feel the torment Cary Grant puts Joan Fontaine through and Cary Grant;s casting is crucial in that its someone the audience wouldn't blame Joan for falling for but through Fontaine's performance we slowly disabuse and question Cary Grant's charisma and even find it sinister and repulsive on occasions. Hitchcock returned to similar treatment of women's subjectivity in THE WRONG MAN, VERTIGO(that is the Judy section) and especially MARNIE and before that, in England, in SABOTAGE and BLACKMAIL.

DavidEhrenstein said...

The comparasion to Vertigo is very apt, Arthur. In both cases the lover is enthralled to a beloved he doesn't really exist. In Vertigo of course this is quite stark as Madeline is a fictional creation that Judy helps bring to life. But In LFAUW Louis Jourdan is viewed as dashing and powerful by the heroine and only at the close do we see how pathetic he really is. Death will be a great release for him.

It's important to point out that during his sojurn in America Ophuls NEVER worked for a majro studio. All his films were independent productions. I can't imagine a single major doing anything as deep-yet-delicate as LFAUW.

JustJoan said...

JF in "Suspicion" s such a fascinating knot of contradictions for me, very few if any in the "wet" category. The trouble is that whether she is in her shell or out of it, confident or tortured, she is entirely a reflection of what Cary Grant's character has worked upon her, and therein lies the rub. Monkey Face makes her quite startling transformation from introverted, overprotected child of semi-elderly parents into an awakened, spirited young matron in the first flush of her passion for Johnny. But once Hitchcock was twisted up in his efforts to make Johnny a murderer while conforming to the studio's demand that Cary Grant be innocent, Mrs. Aysgarth then must descend into a tizzy of neurotic, supposedly unfounded suspicions. In the original Francis Isles novel, of course, the character knows she is married to a villain, but loves him so much she can only die willingly at his hands (while leaving behind an accusatory letter -- talk about having and eating cakes!)
So, all things considered, JF did a pretty good job of dancing on the heads of several pins, and I agree that she deserved her Academy Award. I just wish that we could have seen Cary Grant be the whole enchilada, gorgeous and deadly. At least Hitchcock had a second go at making Grant into a heel, which he does nicely through the first half of "Notorious."

Yojimboen said...

“…(there were at least two of you, as I remember).” Oooh, was ever a parenthetical more delightfully larded with ever-so-subtle lethal threat? (Add “and your little dog, too!” and stir to taste.)

I can’t help but hear those words issuing from the mouths of Richard Loo, Conrad Veidt or, more lately, Christoph Waltz.

I’m just glad I’m not one of them. I love George Sanders, I do, I do!

JustJoan said...

Me too. I love George Sanders so much that I even sit through the occasional Tom Conway movie.

Vanwall said...

Cary Grant was marvelous as Uncle Charlie in a radio version of "Shadow of a Doubt", which is available too listen to:
shadow of a doubt

JustJoan said...

Thank you so much! I just finished it, and agree it is quite fine. I also forgot what an unusual and appealing voice Betsy Drake had. Her Charlie is great, too. But the announcer sounds a bit like Rich Little doing Orson Welles (unless it IS Orson Welles.)

Arthur S. said...

-------------------------
But once Hitchcock was twisted up in his efforts to make Johnny a murderer while conforming to the studio's demand that Cary Grant be innocent,
---------------------------

It wasn't the studio, Cary Grant was always going to be "innocent" but Hitchcock went ahead and cast him in that role knowing fully well he couldn't use the ending of the novel. Hitchcock prevaricated on the cutting of SUSPICION. He never did shoot the ending of the book or planned to. In the ending he had shot and intended, Joan Fontaine drinks the glass of milk believing it would kill her but upon realizing that she survives she goes to meet Johnny who is in the process of killing himself as well. She stops him and they reunite. The audience laughed at this ending and the studio re-cut the film until Hitchcock salvaged it by re-shooting the ending.

In both cases, the perspective was always going to be Joan Fontaine's insecurity.

The Siren said...

Yojimboen, you do me an injustice (she said, with an authentic smile). I truly did find it cute that after some two dozen posts somebody finally found it in them to say Sanders doesn't do it for them. He is an odd actor and seeing Death of a Scoundrel late last year proved to me that he could be quite appalling bad as well as terrific, and in the same movie.

Joan, Arthur S beat me to my usual point on Suspicion, which is that the old legend about Hitchcock having a studio-imposed ending to it is just that, as I wrote here when I discussed Fontaine and Hitchcock. It is no fault of yours or anyone else's, however, that the legend persists, since Hitchcock spent years claiming he wanted to follow the novel and make Grant a murderer. His correspondence tells a different story, however.

Don't even get me started on the breath I've wasted pointing out that Atlanta does NOT, in fact, burn in Gone with the Wind. (It did in real life, but not in the movie.)

Finally, re: Walbrook--one of the best movies I saw last year was Maskerade, dir. by Willi Forst, in which Walbrook plays a deliriously sexy romantic lead for once, but of course an ambiguous one. If you can find it, pounce.

Gmoke, excellent point. Fontaine deserves eternal credit for the exquisite taste with which this independent production was put together.

Yojimboen said...

A thousand pardons, cara principessa, implied but missing from my post was the silly emoticon ;-)

(It just seemed to jump out at me that with a slightly different line reading, your rejoinder could freeze at fifty paces.)

Again ;-))

The Siren said...

Ha, when I re-read it I thought the same. It does have a certain "I'll get you, my pretty" aspect depending on the line reading, as you say. Emoticons are more useful than their detractors want to admit. :D

JustJoan said...

Siren, thank you so much for the link to your earlier piece on Joan Fontaine and Hitchcock. And, of course, I should know better than to take anything from the Truffaut-Hitchcock book at face value, much as I love them both. As for Rebecca, I may have mentioned that my mother, who loved movies but hated to go alone, dragged me along to everything, Garbo and Karloff and Ronald Coleman Lugosi, not paying much heed to my four-year-old sensibilities. That's the way I first encountered Mrs. Danvers, and ever after, when other childrens' nightmares were filled with bogeymen, I always dreamed of Judith Anderson. Today, it seems a fair trade-off for a life filled with love of film, but then! Oy!

Ms.Zebra said...

I find it a bit odd when full-fledged women attempt to play teenagers, or even children (and sometimes discomforting). Diana Lynn was too snarky and smart to be completely believable (though she was still a hoot to watch), and Ginger Rogers' attempt(s) (was there more than one?) were just plain...weird. (Though, of course, she was only pretending to be a child in The Major & the Minor. Does that excuse it?)

I haven't seen The Constant Nymph in a long time, but I remember there being an eerie quality to Fontaine's performance-perhaps on purpose? In Letter, however, she's simply incredible, and, somehow, she makes it work. I'm not sure if you discussed this in your piece (I couldn't seem to get to the full essay), but I agree with you when you say Fontaine's performance in this picture is one of Old Hollywood's best. It's a pity her career didn't quite make it to the top of the ranks. Who knows what she could have given us with roles as good as this one.

Christian Janonne said...

I write short stories, novels and over fictions with ancient actresses : Joan Fontaine is one of my favourites in "Letter from an unknown woman" or "Ivy". She became a character of my texts on my blog Bazarnaum a Agartha city. I'm french and my novels are in french.