All about Eve, which swept away the Academy Awards in 1950, is the story about two actresses (in different senses) who can no longer differentiate between theater and reality. Eve Harrington (Anne Baxter) is a sly manipulator who earns the trust of her idol, stage prima donna Margo Channing (Bette Davis), and takes over her career. Distinctions between them are the worlds they come from. Margo inhabits the world of theater and the high society that reveres the art form.
We first see this group of thespians and ice-cold theater critics like Addison de Witt (George Sanders, never better) at an awards banquet in which Eve is awarded. We know immediately that the presenter’s description of the young Eve Harrington is not reflective of the real woman. Something cynical lurks beneath her humble gestures. Bette Davis’ eyes when she spots Eve confirm this for us and All about Eve establishes itself as a crime picture of sorts, and a flashback will explain how the crime occurred. All about Eve points to the real culprit early on, believing that the culture of celebrity encourages vipers like Eve. She clearly is deranged and her obsession with Margo the result of a void, but in the sixty years since, in the age of internet, Eve’s obsessions are far more frightening. She so desperately needs to surpass Margo that she determines to snake her way into life by any means necessary. She appeals to Margo’s ego with flattery and tales of a hard life. Eve appears so pathetic that Margo opens her sympathy while still seeing her as a slight annoyance.
That Eve’s backstory turns out to be a fabrication makes All about Eve an unusually cynical movie for a time when Hollywood was just beginning to take its head out of the clouds of glamour. Then again, 1950 was a great year for film writing. George Sanders’ narration in the opening is as rich as that of William Holden’s in Sunset Boulevard, although the tone could not be more different, although both films examined the shaky promises of the Dream Factory.
It’s a bit surprising that an actress of the Margo’s caliber would buy into Eve’s phoniness, but at a time when society wasn’t as aware of derangement syndromes, Margo was probably even less aware, having little interest in the world beyond her career. Margo is, after all, a megalomaniac and it is her very narcissism that Eve appealed to.
Bette Davis is a force to be reckoned with, although she often gets the short end of the stick. When we think of strong women of the screen, the first names that come to mind are Lauren Bacall and Katharine Hepburn. Both deserve their place, certainly, but few other actresses continued to receive as many great roles so late into her career as Better Davis.
Margo Channing embodies Bette Davis at the height of her vitality. Just listening to her talk (the subject usually being herself) is the greatest pleasure of the movie. She is sharp, clever, and perceptive, though she doesn’t realize the extent of Eve’s obsession until too late. The only person who seems to notice Eve’s intention from the start is de Witt, and perhaps it took someone with his heart of stone.
Eve’s meddling begins as a nuisance quickly goes for the top. She starts by winning the affection of Eve’s boyfriend Bill (Gary Merrill) and then moves on to eclipsing her career. Margo is temperamental and a confrontation is not long in the making. But an often unmentioned aspect of All about Eve is how similar both Margo and Eve are. Margo’s oblivion to reality is less severe than Eve’s (“I am 40 and didn’t want to admit it”), but her delusions are no less destructive, especially to herself. Both women are manipulative (Margo to her boyfriend and stage managers, Eve to everyone else). In some ways, their male counterpart is Addison de Witt, who is also a conniving serpent. He ultimately finds the key to Eve’s breakdown.
Some scholars have found an undertone of lesbianism in the relationship between Margo and Eve. Although the film is feminist in subtle ways, Eve’s unhealthy obsessions stem more from a lack of self-esteem than sexual desire.
Writing is the virtue of All about Eve, so it’s quite ironic that it is precisely the screenplay that makes it not quite a great film. Though fueled with crisp wit, the film lags in stretches and becomes rather droopy in the center. All about Eve seems reluctant to admit that it is a psychological study. The screenplay is too full of itself (not unjustifiably so) to be, as the title promises, all about eve and her path of destruction. Instead it cramps the midsection with too many uninteresting figures and theatrical discourse.
What we have are many individual great moments. When the flabby dialogue and padded attractions clear the way for Margo and Eve, it becomes a brilliant drama of obsession. Eve begins to emerge as someone who may have initially had a genuine admiration for Margo Channing but became so dangerously obsesses with being her that she drove her to ruin.
Strangely, the best moment in the film does not involve Eve directly, but focuses on getting to know Margo. After being manipulated from Eve, Margo’s best friend (Celeste Holm) plays a prank which results in Margo being stranded in a car and missing an important audition. It is a touching scene because we are seeing the real Margo for the first time, without rehearsed lines or press agents. We finally see a woman who knows her prime is passing but holds on to it because the only life she knows is the life of celebrity.
When she becomes engaged to Bill, Margo forgoes a coveted part in a play that she now realizes she is too old for. The void she was filling by fighting for such roles is now fulfilled by reality, represented by her engagement. At its best, All about Eve is a morality tale about finding happiness in our own reality and the dangers that come when we confuse our delusions for reality.