THE INCREDIBLE SARAH 1976

To a major extent, mid-‘70s Hollywood was a bit of a boys’ club sandbox overrun with buddy films and disaster movies in which women were required to do little more than support the dreams of the hero, or sit around waiting to be rescued. Jane Fonda, Karen Black, and Faye Dunaway divvied up the few plum, non-“clinging girlfriend” roles to be found (Liza Minnelli & Barbara Streisand being not-quite-human entities unto themselves); while Glenda Jackson remained in demand for parts requiring the kind of accessible, high-toned hauteur American actresses tend to look ridiculous trying to carry off outside of TV soap operas.

But even a two-time Oscar-winner like Jackson must have found it tough going, for in order to play something other than co-starring roles opposite then-bankable stars like George Segal and Walter Matthau —roles for which she was grossly overqualified—financing for her films had to come from unusual places: an independent patron of the arts (Ely Landau: The Maids), a cosmetics company (Brut: Hedda), and a magazine publisher (Reader’s Digest: The Incredible Sarah).

Readers Digest. I can’t even look at those words without picturing the stacks of unappealing-looking mini-magazines which seemed to grow like weeds in the corners of my grandmother’s living room. And don’t get me started on those volumes of Reader’s Digest condensed books. Condensed books…what was up with that?

But I digress. For a time in the 1970s, Reader’s Digest was in the movie business, producing a string of “Family Classics” (often musicals) based on works of literature. There was Mark Twain’s Tom Sawyer (1973) and Huckleberry Finn (1974), and an adaptation of Dickens’ The Old Curiosity Shop titled Mr. Quilp (1975). The British arm of Reader’s Digest deviated from G-rated kiddie fare and produced this PG-rated biographical drama about the life of French actress Sarah Bernhardt. Certainly, the notion of having Glenda Jackson, the greatest actress of the 20^th century, portraying Sarah Bernhardt, the greatest actress of the 19^th century, must have struck everyone as ideal. Indeed, in 1971 Ken Russell entertained the idea of making a Bernhardt bio-pic with Jackson after first-choice Barbra Streisand(!) failed to follow through. 

But alas, Glenda Jackson, in spite of having garnered an Oscar nomination the previous year for Hedda, was in a bit of a career slump, having not appeared in a hit film since 1973's A Touch of Class; a slump not reversed until House Calls in 1978. The modestly-budgeted The Incredible Sarah was released in November of 1976, just when the studios were going full bore (pun intended) with its saturation promotion of the high-profile Christmas releases of Streisand's A Star is Born remake, and Dino De Laurentiis' King Kong reboot.
With Bernhardt neither a household name nor a familiar face (a star of the stage, Bernhardt nevertheless made a few silents and talkies) and only lukewarm reviews to assist it, The Incredible Sarah came and went without much notice or fanfare.

Glenda Jackson as Sarah Bernhardt

Daniel Massey as  Victorien Sardou

John Castle as Aristides Damala

Douglas Wilmer as Adolphe Montigny

Bridget Armstrong as Marie

The Incredible Sarah has occupied a spot on my list of holy grail films (out-of-print or hard-to-find movies I’ve always wanted to see) for a whopping 40-years now. The initial San Francisco Bay Area run of The Incredible Sarah in 1976 was so brief; it seemed to disappear from theaters before I even knew it had opened. In the ensuing years, I’ve no recollection of it appearing on either broadcast television or cable TV, and its release on VHS in 1992 was one of the best-kept secrets in the video rental business.

So it was with no small degree of excitement when—that after all these years—I discovered it on YouTube just a month ago and was finally afforded the opportunity to watch personal fave Glenda Jackson in what was to be one of the last of her major “star” vehicles. Always a critical and Academy Award favorite, Jackson was never really a populist favorite in the States. Though TV audiences took to Jackson in the BBC via PBS broadcast of  the miniseries Elizabeth R, her biggest successes tended to come from being paired with likable, light comedy male co-stars capable of “softening” her somewhat remote, intellectual image.

Well, there’s no denying that merely seeing The Incredible Sarah after such a long period of anticipation is gratifying in and of itself, and certainly the remarkable Glenda Jackson doesn’t disappoint. However, no amount of fandom, expectancy, or nostalgia can make this wholly undistinguished, startlingly old-fashioned bio-pic into anything more than a fabulous Glenda Jackson showcase (she's had better) and well-intentioned, honorable misfire.

I don’t know much about the life of Sarah Bernhardt—which, under the circumstances proved a distinct and decided advantage. But I do know a thing or two about show biz biographical movie clichés; an awareness which turned large segments of The Incredible Sarah into a bordering-on-camp laundry list of hoary bio-pic tropes.

King Lear - 1866

The Incredible Sarah chronicles the life of acclaimed French actress Sarah Bernhardt (born Rosine Bernardt) between the years 1863 to 1890 (taking her from age 19 to roughly 45; something it helps to know since the only person to visibly age in this film is her illegitimate child). From her inauspicious beginnings at the Comédie Française through her gradual emergence as one of the principal players at the Odéon Theatre, Bernhardt is depicted as a headstrong individualist and rebel, drawn to the calling of acting simply because…well, that’s never quite explained beyond her stating it's “Something I have to do!”—which could well be applied to getting one’s eyebrows tweezed.

On her path to becoming hailed as an international star and earning the name “The Divine Sarah,” Bernhardt is briefly shown appearing in several of her classic roles: King Lear, Le Passant, Phaedra,  The Lady of the Camellias, & Joan of Arc. Meanwhile, her offstage life rivals her stage performances in theatricality and excess. There’s the aforementioned illegitimate child born of a Belgian prince; her household menagerie of animals; her habit of sleeping in a coffin; her many lovers; her interest in sculpting; her legendary temperament; her stage fright; and her unpropitious marriage to a handsome Greek attaché. Lest we get the impression Bernhardt’s life was one rosy romp of self-interest and accolades, we’re also shown how she selflessly turned the Odéon Theatre into an infirmary during the Franco-German War, and battled an unsympathetic public judgmental of her wicked, wicked ways. 

The Incredible Sarah ends on a high note—some 33-years before Bernhard’s death at age 78—with her triumphant portrayal of Joan of Arc. As the film faded to black, I was left with the dual sensations of feeling how much I really missed Glenda Jackson and wondering about the film (like Bacharach’s Alfie), what’s it all about?

Le Passant  - 1869

I was entertained throughout (how can one NOT be entertained watching Glenda Jackson?), but save for a scene in the theater converted into an infirmary, strangely unmoved by anything that transpired between the characters. I loved the elaborate costumes, hairstyles, ornate art direction, and, here and there, even a performance that wasn’t Jackson’s, but I never got a sense of the film having anything particular to say about its subject. I thought I'd certainly come away with at least more knowledge about Sarah Bernhardt's life than when I arrived, but given that the film begins with the disclaimer: “This motion picture is a free portrayal of events in her tempestuous early career,” can I even say that?

I’m too much of a fan of the freewheeling liberties of Ken Russell’s biographical films to hew to the notion that historical accuracy and chronological fealty equal a good bio-pic. That The Incredible Sarah plays fast and loose with the facts doesn’t trouble me so much as the fact it has (for me, anyway) no point of view, perspective, or motivation beyond Bernhardt being a notable person whose life deserves recording.

The closest thing I could glean, and perhaps this was more obvious in ’76, is that The Incredible Sarah, in being a film produced and written by women (Helen M. Strauss & Ruth Wolff, respectively) sought to present a notable historical female figure in a feminist light. And indeed, it is refreshing to see a woman deciding for herself what is important in her life and not having her womanhood or value as a person called into question because she chooses the career path. But this theory is undermined a bit by the script making Bernhardt's chief adversary a woman jealous of Sarah stealing her man.

On the whole, The Incredible Sarah ranks as the perfect kind of historical film to show in school history classes or something. As a stand-alone entertainment with no lessons to impart to impressionable minds, I’m afraid The Incredible Sarah  measured up as being a must-see vehicle for Glenda Jackson enthusiasts like myself, but an easy pass for the general film fan. 

Phaedra - 1879

WHAT I LOVE ABOUT THIS FILM

Liking Glenda Jackson as much as I do, it’s very rewarding to see her in a film where not only is she front and center (and given very little in the way of competition), but she’s photographed flatteringly and made to look movie-star glamorous in a multitude of sumptuous, Oscar-nominated costumes by Anthony Mendelson (Macbeth, Young Winston).

The film is handsomely mounted (its only other Oscar nomination came for Art Direction: Elliot Scott & Norman Reynolds) and it's something of a feast to see Jackson in every single scene, playing the classics, hamming it up, being funny...basically being given free rein in a film designed to showcase her talents. But alas, I’m aware of clinging to these particular joys—all centered around the film's star—because the very weak screenplay gives Jackson quite a lot to do, but not very much she can to sink her teeth into. When she's not reciting the words of the Masters, Jackson is saddled with some of the most mundane dialogue imaginable.

Simon Williams portrays Henri de Ligne, a Belgian prince with whom Bernhardt has a child out of wedlock

Directed by Richard Fleischer, whose skills run the gamut from the outstanding 10 Rillington Place-1971 to the laugh-a-minute vulgarity that is Mandingo-1975, The Incredible Sarah is so old-fashioned in its construction and execution, it feels as though it were made at least a decade earlier. 

Joan of Arc - 1890

PERFORMANCES

A film about the world’s greatest actress would be terribly embarrassing without an actress about whom those words could be uttered onscreen without inciting laughter, so the casting of Glenda Jackson is perfection on that score. Where things get a little dicey is that, for all her skill as an actress, Glenda Jackson's innate intelligence seems incapable of being tamped down. Coming across as the human personification of common sense, level-headedness, and reason, Jackson doesn't exactly convince when trying to depict Bernhardt’s rootless flamboyance and fiery nature. Jackson doesn’t have a frivolous bone in her body. And so while it’s fun when she gets to run amok in not one, but two rip-and-tear temper tantrum scenes, the effort in trying to appear irrational shows.

Perhaps counting on the plausible likelihood that not many people caught his Golden Globe-winning, Oscar-nominated performance as Noel Coward in the 1968 Julie Andrews flop Star! (anther biopic about an actress few Americans were familiar with), Daniel Massey essentially repeats himself and gives the same performance. Massey and Jackson had previously co-starred in 1971's Mary, Queen of Scots

Much like the joyless Anthony Hopkins was a bust in his vulgar showman scenes in 1978's Magic, but ideal for the off-his-rocker stuff; sound-as-a-dollar Glenda Jackson is an ideal fit for Sarah Bernhardt the brilliant actress; but as an eccentric narcissist, she has both feet a little too firmly planted on the ground to make it work.  

Sarah Bernhardt relaxes in the coffin she traveled with

THE STUFF OF FANTASY 

The Incredible Sarah and the show business biofilm cliché checklist: 

Scene in which the artist conveniently declares her life’s ambition aloud (Funny Girl, Sparkle, The Loves of Isadora, Star!).

Scene depicting the artist’s unbridled, unsubstantiated self-confidence (Funny Girl, Sparkle, The Loves of Isadora, Star!)

Scene where artist makes amusingly disastrous performing stage debut (Funny Girl, The Loves of Isadora, Lady Sings the Blues, Love Me or Leave Me, Star!)

The confidant to whom the artist can give voice to her inner yearnings and provide plot exposition (Funny Lady, The Loves of Isadora, Lady Sings the Blues, Star!)
The bad marriage trope (Funny Girl, Star!, Sparkle, The Loves of Isadora) 

The so-called comic scene depicting Sarah Bernhardt's calamitous stage debut could have been
 lifted directly from an episode of That Girl

THE STUFF OF DREAMS

I've watched The Incredible Sarah twice. The first time I was just too taken with the pleasure of at last seeing it to be able to access it with any objectivity. On the second go-round, its script flaws stood out a great deal more (events happen in biographical films because "they really happened"...screenwriters don't always concern themselves with making sure the events and character motivations fit a narrative logic. Real life is haphazard; I tend to like a little more structure in my drama. Even biographical drama), but I was happily surprised by how much the film is buoyed and made pleasurable by Glenda Jackson alone.

It isn't one of her best performances (as stated earlier, I was largely left unmoved) but it's a good one. Much better in my opinion than her Oscar-winning turn in A Touch of Class (1973). The Incredible Sarah didn't live up to my expectations, but I have to say, Glenda Jackson, even with weak material, is still the personification of incredible.

BONUS MATERIAL

The Incredible Sarah concerns itself with the actress' early career. Sarah Bernhardt was one of the first stage actors to appear in film. Here is a clip of the real Sarah Bernhardt playing Hamlet in her 1900 film debut. 
She made several other films and continued to tour and perform onstage even after the amputation of a leg in 1915. In addition to acting, she managed and directed her own theater company, sculpted, and published a novel and a memoir of questionable veracity. She passed away in 1922 at the age of 78.

Copyright © Ken Anderson  2009 - 2016