If you peruse the winners of the Motion Picture Academy’s Honorary Oscars for Career Achievement or the American Film Institute’s Lifetime Achievement Awards, you’ll notice something. Where the actors are concerned, they’re all leads, all stars. Jimmy Stewart, Barbara Stanwyck, Peter O’Toole, Bette Davis, Sidney Poitier, Elizabeth Taylor, Gene Kelly, Jack Nicholson, Meryl Streep, Barbra Streisand, and Jane Fonda have all won one or the other or both. Supporting players don’t seem to have a lifetime of achievement in the movies, at least according to the powers that be. I happen to feel the exact opposite way.
The first name that immediately comes to mind is Thelma Ritter. It’s appalling that Ritter never took home a competitive Oscar, despite multiple nominations for Best Supporting Actress, but even more distressing that the Academy never felt they needed to give her an Honorary Oscar either. When an actor as good as Ritter doesn’t win a competitive Oscar by 1960, it’s time to honor her another way and let her know she’s at least appreciated as the great performer she is. Maybe if she had lived longer (she passed in 1969) she would have become one of the few supporting players honored. Well, either way, here’s my list of the Lifetime Achievement Awards I would hand out to the actors who never got them, either because they were character actors (i.e. supporting) or only allowed to be leads in the B movies of their day. I’ll call this the Thelma Ritter Honorary Award for Lifetime Achievement by Supporting Players, or the “Ritter” for short.
Edward Everett Horton is one of the first winners of a Ritter in my book. His performances have so buoyed the movies they were in that I feel if Horton is in a movie, any movie, it automatically gets bumped up a star for that reason alone. His hugely entertaining turns are so legion that it’s difficult to select just one or two as favorites but, for me, the two I love the most are The Gay Divorcee, specifically his magnificent number with Betty Grable, “Let’s Knock Knees,” and Lost Horizon, specifically his interactions with Thomas Mitchell. Speaking of which…
How is it possible that Thomas Mitchell never got a Lifetime Award? And talk about too many performances to choose from. With Mitchell, it’s not difficult, it’s damn near impossible. So, rather than pick (although Uncle Billy in It’s a Wonderful Life would be high on the list) let me highlight his most amazing year, instead, 1939. While 1939 has been called Hollywood’s greatest year of the Golden Era, it stands even more strongly as Thomas Mitchell’s greatest year. He appeared in The Hunchback of Notre Dame, Only Angels Have Wings, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, Gone with the Wind, and, in an Oscar winning role for Best Supporting Actor, Stagecoach. Allow me a moment to type out a single word to express my feelings here: Wow. And even though he didn’t win the Oscar for it, it’s his great performance in Only Angels Have Wings that ranks as my favorite. But get this: Not only is their no Lifetime Achievement Oscar for Mitchell, the man was only nominated twice – Twice! - for The Hurricane and Stagecoach. That’s it! Well, Mr. Mitchell, now you have a Ritter, and you deserve it.
Glenda Farrell is next. She had a few leads, like the great Torchy Blane character in the series of the same name, which I’ve covered here before. No, they’re not brilliantly made works of cinema, they’re low budget serials but Farrell shines in them as she did in everything in which she appeared. One of her earliest movies is still one of my favorites, The Mystery of the Wax Museum. In earlier efforts, like Little Caesar and I am a Fugitive from a Chain Gang, she was too subdued. The real Glenda hadn’t come out yet, but with The Mystery of the Wax Museum, the fast talking Glenda was born. And for a decades long career of giving one moxie-filled performance after another, Glenda gets a Ritter.
And speaking of moxie, Hattie McDaniel had it in every movie she ever made. Hattie was asked to play the same role again and again due to racism in Hollywood in the thirties and forties that didn’t offer many roles for a black actress outside of those as servants and mammies. Hattie not only took the roles (“I’d rather play a maid than be one,” she reportedly said) but played them with relish. It was a foregone conclusion that she’d win the Oscar for Gone with the Wind, no one could top her energy and power, but not a foregone conclusion that she would ever have a career beyond that. Nonetheless, her career, as limited as it was by types of roles, was incredible. My favorite performance of hers is Alice Adams, with Katherine Hepburn but there are too many to count. She gets a Ritter to cover them all.
Another great actor held back by racist attitudes of the time, Eddie “Rochester” Anderson, still managed to do great, great things with what he was given. From You Can’t Take it With You and You Can’t Cheat an Honest Man to Topper Returns and Cabin in the Sky, Eddie was a great talent, who became known more for his partnership with Jack Benny than anything else. But his performances in the movies are as good as anything he did with Benny, and that’s saying something. Mr. Anderson, please accept this Ritter.
Say, did someone just mention the Topper movies? Because I can’t think of Topper without thinking of Billie Burke and when I think of Billie Burke, well, I just smile. Billie Burke, known the world over as Glinda, the Good Witch, was so much better in roles like those in Topper where her manic befuddlement at every situation provided comic icing on the cake to Dinner at Eight, where she managed both comic relief and genuine emotion when she discovers her husband is in grave health. She was a great performer, much better than she gets credit for because of The Wizard of Oz. And she’s great in that, too, it’s just such a small part of the picture. Hopefully, the Ritter will take care of that.
From Thelma Ritter to Billie Burke, that’s seven right there. I’ve stuck with actors from the thirties, mainly (despite Ritter being a performer of the late forties onward), because I think it might be easier to do follow up posts covering Ritter Awards for the forties, fifties, sixties and seventies, rather than try and jam everyone in here all at once (look for them coming soon). Even so, just covering the thirties, I’ve left off dozens that could be included. Perhaps in the comments, several more Ritters can be awarded. For now, I’ll settle for this inaugural seven, a lucky seven. Lucky for us, that is. Lucky that we get to enjoy their talents again and again, as long as the cinema survives.