Worldwide Women Project: January: Ida Lupino and The Bigamist
For the first time in my memory, January has flown by. So as the first month of 2021 quickly comes to a close, I will be sharing my thoughts on the first film of my Worldwide Women Project: The Bigamist (1953), dir. Ida Lupino.
It is sad that women in the U.S. continue to have to work through so many obstacles in order to become directors; perhaps it is even more upsetting that in spite of this, the U.S. has fairly indisputably produced the most acclaimed or “well-known” female directors. However, I did not choose America as the first country to highlight just because it is my homeland but more so because of the history of female directors in this country. Before Greta Gerwig, Sofia Coppola, and Kathryn Bigelow were critically acclaimed and groundbreaking female filmmakers, there was Ida Lupino, a woman who made her own films in a time when that seemed impossible. Lupino is a name that is too often left out of the female director conversation, and I am regretful to admit that I was unaware of her until a few months ago. I was incredibly excited to view her film The Bigamist and share my thoughts about it and about Lupino, as it is the first American feature that is directed by a woman who also stars in the film, something actors have done with great success (Robert Redford, Warren Beatty, Ben Affleck, etc.)
The Bigamist, a 1953 drama/noir starring Edmond O’Brien (The Barefoot Contessa, White Heat), Joan Fontaine (Rebecca, Suspicion), Edmund Gwenn (Miracle on 34th Street), and Lupino herself, centers around a man (O’Brien) who while in the process of adopting a baby with his wife (Fontaine) is discovered by the adoption agent (Gwenn) to have another secret wife (Lupino). Shot in black-and-white and told mostly in a flashback with narration, The Bigamist was a classic 50s noir-ish delight. At 120 minutes, it moved quickly and was chalk full of dramatic twists. In the genre of noir, it is definitely not the top of its class, but I had a great time watching it.
One thing that is certain about The Bigamist, an independent film made on a tiny budget, is Lupino’s talent as a filmmaker. The film, while centering on a man and not as distinctly “female” as say one of Sofia Coppola’s pastel paradises, clearly has the eye and compassion of a woman, that helps make the film interesting and slightly less generic than other noirs of this era. I think that master filmmaker Martin Scorsese summed up Lupino’s directorial gifts in a 1995 New York Times piece: “[w]hat is at stake in Lupino's films is the psyche of the victim. They addressed the wounded soul and traced the slow, painful process of women trying to wrestle with despair and reclaim their lives. Her work is resilient, with a remarkable empathy for the fragile and the heart-broken. It is essential.”
Lupino did not reinvent the wheel with her films; as literally the only working female director in 1950s Hollywood, she played by the rules. It was most certainly a man’s industry, and Lupino knew that, accepted that, and worked around it to make her own films. Most of them starred men at the center, including The Bigamist and perhaps her most notable directorial effort, The Hitchhiker (also from 1953); however, unlike many directors, Lupino has a sense of empathy for all of her characters, man or woman, that most other directors of her time severely lacked. Her films are not “man versus woman” or “woman versus woman,” nor do they side with one gender; every character, no matter their sex, is treated fairly and portrayed as a whole person.
The main character, Harry (O’Brien), is a man who cheats on his wife (Fontaine) after he learns she is incapable of having a baby, and then impregnates his mistress (Lupino). In most scenarios, it would be easy to either portray Harry as a villain, or choose one of the women to be his “true love” and the other woman a thorn in his side. Lupino takes neither of these routes and instead elevates what could be a very cookie-cutter concept into a highly intriguing and sophisticated story.
That sophistication is all in Lupino’s direction; the sympathy she gives to all three main characters makes not only the characterization stronger but the plot, as the complexity of all the relationships only adds to the suspense of the drama. Harry is a man who knows he is making mistakes by being unfaithful; he is not an abusive husband nor a neglectful one, and when he learns Lupino is pregnant with his child, he vows to not only support her but also ensure that his wife gets the baby she has longed for.
Aside from Harry, both of his leading ladies are also much more complicated and well-rounded than the typical love interest of a Hollywood noir, and that is fully attributable to Lupino’s female perspective and sensibility. Fontaine is not a wife who endlessly dotes on her husband; she loves him and respects him, but their marriage is not all-consuming for her. She has her own complex struggles, not only with infertility but also balancing her relationship with Harry and being devoted to business. The two are constantly at odds not only because of the time work takes up but also because of the fact that Fontaine’s character, Eve, is much better at business than Harry, which is not only recognized by Eve herself but also their colleagues. And Lupino’s character, Phyllis, is far from a conniving temptress. She stumbles into a relationship with Harry without knowing he is married but also in a very natural and human way. Despite the audience sympathizing with Eve, Phyllis is not a villain. There is no villain in The Bigamist, which may be its greatest achievement as all the elements of the story would lead to audiences thinking otherwise.
The Bigamist is not “capital G” great in the way noirs like The Maltese Falcon or The Lady from Shanghai are, but it is has well developed characters, an interesting plot line (that I personally think is largely held back by censorship of the 50s), and of course impressive directing by the unique storytelling voice of her generation, a trailblazing filmmaker and also highly talented actress, Ida Lupino. Her name should be said louder and more often in the industry, and many women in American cinema have been beneficiaries of her barrelling down doors to get her stories told for microscopic budgets. Hollywood should be immensely proud to call Ida Lupino one of their own, and probably wish they had given her more to do when they had the chance.
To see more insight into Ida Lupino, I highly recommend the YouTube video linked by the incomparable film analysis channel Be Kind Rewind. The video looks into Lupino’s career as well as the directorial efforts of one of American entertainment’s great talents, Barbra Streisand.
Video: Actresses Who Direct: Barbra Streisand and Ida Lupino