As far as I’m concerned, my writing has reflected a deep and undying devotion to the work of the ruthlessly talented Ruth Gordon, an artist I’ve admired since my earliest days of watching movies. Her impact on the film industry is clear and indelible – but what is often not discussed is The Actress, the adaptation of her play Years Ago, which she also wrote the screenplay for, and which was helmed by one of her regular collaborators, the equally iconic George Cukor, who took Gordon’s semi-autobiographical play and turned it into one of the most unexpectedly charming comedies of the 1950s. Touching in the way any strong-willed family-centric comedy should be, and filled to the brim with the kind of heart and soul that propelled many of Gordon’s finest works, The Actress is a genuinely charming work of partially-true filmmaking, and a wonderful voyage into the early life of one of stage and screen’s most enigmatic but incredibly captivating stars. Less about a single narrative thread, and more an episodic account of some of the experiences Gordon and her family faced while she was growing up in Boston in the early 20th century, The Actress is a quiet but resilient work of layered storytelling that gradually uncovers some interesting details about her teenage years, presented with the kind of candour and inherent sweetness that defined most of Gordon’s life and career, all tied together by the masterful, effervescent charm that we’ve come to expect from Cukor, a versatile and prolific director who rarely (if ever) made a film that wasn’t worth watching in some capacity, especially at this stage of his career, where he seemed capable to do anything, even if it was a poignant exploration of the younger years of one of his most interesting collaborators.

She may have been a fabulous actress that left an indelible impression on the film industry with performances such as those in Rosemary’s Baby, or her truly impressive work in Harold and Maude, quite possibly the greatest American comedy ever made – but Gordon’s career as a writer was just as impressive, with her ferocious intelligence and ability to use words in creative ways propelling her into a long professional and romantic partnership with Garson Kanin, the pair working on many great films together. On the surface, The Actress doesn’t seem like the kind of story that would lend itself to a particular captivating film – Gordon had a fascinating career on both stage and screen, but her early life was seemingly uneventful and not all that interesting, at least from what we know about it. However, the original play and this adaptation aren’t all that focused on repurposing her life as something entirely fascinating, refusing to take many artistic liberties in order to make her teenage years appear more interesting than they actually were. Gordon writes with tenderness and honesty, and isn’t afraid to show the fact that her upbringing was relatively happy – she may not have had everything a young, ambitious girl with aspirations of glamour may have wanted, but a good set of parents, a home and a few luxuries were enough for her, even if a major part of this story is all about showing how the younger Gordon was never fully content with what she had, a quality that is clearly the subject of a moral lesson in cherishing everything one has. Only Gordon, with her first-hand experiences of what it would be like for a young woman growing up in this particular socio-economic position, would be able to weave together something as unexpectedly captivating as The Actress, a film that uses the smallest and most insignificant moments in a way that represents their deep importance.

Based on the premise, any logical person would assume The Actress is about Gordon herself, especially since the story seems to focus on her early years where she aspired to become an actress. However, the film is much more than just a vanity-fueled visual memoir, and becomes something quite different as it goes on. Jean Simmons is not normally someone we’d expect to play Gordon, with her refined, delicate persona seemingly standing in stark contrast to Gordon’s more rambunctious, eccentric personality – but somehow it works, since the film draws attention to the protagonist as someone still developing, a young and impressionable woman who is trying to find her place in the world, and Simmons was the perfect person to play the role, with her soft-spoken charm and joyful attitude allowing her to beautifully interpret this version of Gordon. However, The Actress isn’t actually really entirely about Gordon – she’s the main character, but she’s not what drives the film forward, but rather her dreams and aspirations, and how they relate to the rest of her family. In this regard, the film is really about her parents, played by the lovely Theresa Wright and the absolutely formidable Spencer Tracy, both of whom are doing some of their finest work. Tracy in particular is a standout – gruff but good-hearted seems to be one of his primary tools as an actor, and he constantly drew on this side of his personality in many of his film roles, which set him apart from many of his contemporaries, who were just as talented, but didn’t have the depth and gritty naturalism that he possessed. The film starts with him as nothing but a grouchy reactionary to his daughter’s exuberant youth, but as it progresses, we see that the film eventually orbits around him, and his role in developing his daughter into the woman and artist she would become as a result of both his intentional and accidental actions.

One of the most surprising aspects of The Actress is how Gordon seems to detach herself from the story, while not hiding the fact that this narrative is based on her own life. This isn’t solely about a young woman aspiring to reach monumental levels of fame, but rather a charming love letter to her family, the very people that made her eventual career possible, even if they weren’t initially all that supportive. The film functions as one of the most insightful and funny explorations of a family dynamic – as said about, it doesn’t follow a single line of narrative though, and instead jumps around across roughly a year of her life, from the end of her high school career until she makes the enormous move to New York City to start what she hopes (and we know) will become a massively successful career. Gordon has always had a tendency towards warmth, whether it was in her acting or writing, and The Actress is not any different, working as a wonderfully endearing story of an audacious young woman going against her family that are stubborn, but still genuinely care about her – and while it is very much dated to a particular moment in time, but virtue of the setting, there are certain components of this film that still resonate, which shows what a gifted writer Gordon was, since she was able to put something together that actually remained relevant outside of the specific story it told. Cukor didn’t have too much work to do – everything already came pre-packaged through the writer’s stunning screenplay, so all he had to do what shepherd the cast into giving great performances, and ensure that the camera captured every single detail with the same vivacity and humour that Gordon used when constructing the story.

The Actress is unsurprisingly not a very well-known work by contemporary standards, veering dangerously close to being forgotten overall. The reasons for these are exactly what we’d expect – it doesn’t hit the heights of George Cukor’s other work, and it isn’t a particularly riveting story on a cursory glance, most likely appealing more to those who adore Ruth Gordon more than anyone else, which is understandable since she’s not always an artist who receives the acclaim she deserves. It’s also not a peak in the careers of any of the actors, who turn in solid and reliable performances, but nothing that redefines them as screen presences. However, what this film does do (and very well) is establish a distinct tone. situating itself somewhere between comedy and drama, and gradually working within these boundaries, drawing inspiration from both in how it tells this funny, touching and heartfelt story of a young woman dreaming of aspirations that she knows are possibly out of her reach, but which she refuses to give up on, doing whatever she can to turn her dreams into realities, regardless of how much her parents attempt to dissuade her away from such thoughts. It’s wonderfully insightful and extremely honest, with Gordon making sure that every note is absolutely perfectly in-tune with her style, and brought to life with such heartfulness by Cukor, a director whose career was built mainly on offering warm, soulful stories about ordinary people. The Actress is a delight, and a worthwhile glimpse into the early life of one of our great actresses and writers – but even if one doesn’t have the same level of respect for Gordon, the film is still exuberant and uplifting, which is more than enough for it to be considered a minor but essential piece of 1950s comedy.