Misery loves family – and you’ll find few families whose entire existence is more propelled by sheer conflict than the Giddens, who spend their days bickering about the future, genuinely believing it is their birthright to be the embodiment of wealth and affluence, to the point of causing a range of crises within the family for the sake of their ambitions. When it came time to tell this story, it isn’t clear whether Lillian Hellman knew she was writing one of the most important works of 20th-century theatre, a haunting but bitterly funny Southern gothic drama that engages in a kind of spiritual and moral anarchy, the likes of which we have not seen from even the most subversive of filmmakers. The play was brought from stage to screen by the master of the form, William Wyler, who worked closely with Hellman (who wrote the script in collaboration with Arthur Kober, Alan Campbell and Dorothy Parker, all of whom offered their services in terms of adding a few scenes and helping refine the events and dialogue to the cinematic form) to tell the story of this dysfunctional family, assembling an incredible cast and proving to be one of the most poignant and affecting films of the 1940s, a work of irreverent but compelling melodrama, the likes of which we have not seen for decades, and which is so captivating to watch, even from a modern perspective. We are passive observers invited into this colonial manor and given the chance to peer voyeuristically into the trials and tribulations of this twisted family who would gleefully sacrifice their kin for an opportunity to make a fortune, coalescing in a film that is deeply remarkable, wickedly funny and consistently daring at every turn.

The Little Foxes is the kind of film that was done best during the Golden Age of Hollywood – there has certainly never been a lack of tense familial melodramas at any point in the history of the medium, but there was something so deliciously complex about how it was done during this era. It most likely is related to the fact that emotions always seemed more grandiose during this time – there wasn’t any need to justify behaviour, and people were able to be despicable without any kind of reasoning. It is an exceptionally faithful adaptation of the original play (especially considering it was adapted with participation by the playwright herself), and Wyler ensures that every sordid detail of this deceptively fascinating melodrama was reflected in vivid detail on screen. Wyler was a notoriously prolific director – few filmmakers were able to be so omnipresent throughout the first few decades of Hollywood, and with a career that spanned from the outset of the classical era, all the way to the threshold of New Hollywood, he certainly made a profound impact, directing films that were not always as mentally challenging or provocative as those being made by his more daring contemporaries, but often had their methods of subversion that were extraordinarily captivating in their way. The Little Foxes sees him at his peak, directing a film that was based on existing material, but still finding a way to make it distinctly his own – both a tremendous storyteller and brilliant visual stylist, Wyler had a real knack for such material, assimilating complex commentary into what is essentially nothing more than a series of arguments between members of a family – and it all feels so deeply compelling, every scene becoming more tense and terrifying as we venture further into the daily routine of this family, realizing that they may be bonded by blood, but certainly have very little else in common, especially when it comes to trying to gain power and influence over the other.

As arguably one of the few actresses we can all universally agree is amongst the greatest performers in the history of the English language, Bette Davis rarely gave a performance that was anything less than totally dedicated, and she frequently gave performances that were daring and compelling, even when she was not the embodiment of forthright morality or strong virtues. She could play a villain just as fast as she could a valiant hero, and few films demonstrate this more than The Little Foxes, which many of her devotees consider to be amongst the esteemed actors’ greatest achievements. The role of Regina Giddens is considered one of the finest in the history of American theatre – she is a maniacal and self-centred anti-hero at a time when women on stage were expected to embody stoicism and the most carefully-mediated etiquette, and thus such a role was immediately going to stand out, whether as a source of controversy or a radical shift from the kinds of female roles produced at the time. As excellent as the entire cast may be (with special mention to Theresa Wright and Herbert Marshall), this film belongs entirely to Davis, who is doing incredible work, standing toe-to-toe with the male characters, often outsmarting them and taking advantage of their supposed ignorance to fuel her depraved desire for power. Gender plays a powerful role in the development of this story, and Davis finds a way to humanize Regina without ever making her out to be the victim – it is one of the rare instances of a truly compelling villain that doesn’t draw on our sympathy, but whose journey we are fervently invested in, which is a credit to Hellman’s exceptional writing, Wyler’s extraordinary directing and, more than anyone else, Davis’ committed performance that feels like a revelatory moment in a career filled to the brim with such scenarios.

Despite originally being produced for the stage in the late 1930s, and adapted to the screen in 1941, The Little Foxes remains surprisingly resonant, even in terms of the period in which it is set. The writing is simply too impeccable to ever be considered dated, and Wyler’s careful direction of the material is simply electrifying. More than anything else, it’s the subject matter that draws us in and keeps us engaged, which is the reason behind this story remaining so oddly relevant by contemporary standards. The film may be set at the turn of the 20th century, and focus on issues that are distant memories in terms of social history – but there are certain concepts that quite simply cannot be restricted to a particular time, primarily because they are intrinsically related to the human condition as a whole. Greed, deception and jealousy are all profoundly complex ideas that are rooted in every society, and considering how the entire story hinges on these three themes, it’s not surprising that The Little Foxes has so brilliantly withstood the test of time. These are concepts that aren’t limited to a specific time or place, and while a lot of the impact of the film comes in the form of the commentary surrounding the social circumstances (and who of us doesn’t enjoy luxuriating in the glorious excess of the Southern setting at this specific moment in the past – there’s something so sumptuous and captivating about this period), it could easily be applied to a modern context, which is precisely why The Little Foxes feels so refreshingly honest and profoundly compelling since these are matters we still endure today – we just don’t have the (mis)fortune of Regina and her clan of equally-minded manipulators to help us realize our darkest ambitions.

The Little Foxes is not a film with any interest in adhering to conventions in the traditional sense – it is a bitter and caustic film that uses humour not as a tool to soften the harsh blows of social commentary, nor as a means to add a lighthearted touch to an otherwise very dark film. Instead, it takes us on a journey into the heart of a deeply despicable family, one that is driven by lust, whether it be carnal cravings of desire or the quest for fortune and influence. In a time when status was the most powerful currency one could have, and wealth was merely a means to support claims of influence in a social setting, The Little Foxes feels like both a captivating snapshot of the past, and a cautionary tale for the present moment – these arguments may not be taking place in grand manors as much as in the past, but these themes are still very much relevant, and should resonate with any viewer who has encountered the needless greed and profound discomfort that comes from those seeking fame and fortune, witnessing the extent to which they are willing to go to achieve a strong standing in a certain community. Whether material or intangible, society is driven by the craving for wealth, and The Little Foxes exposes the darker side of the human condition, quietly making its way through some bleak subject matter as we discover the sordid secrets lurking beneath the idyllic settings – and in the process, it manages to be so thoroughly entertaining and enduring as a work of complex satire, constantly provoking deeper ideas while giving us the pleasure of seeing some of the finest actors of the classical era sparring in a gorgeous setting. The Little Foxes is just as thought-provoking as it was several decades ago and remains one of the most pointed social dramas that Hollywood ever produced, and one that has never been more relevant than it is today.