Joan Fontaine Movies

Based on a novel by Francoise Sagan, A Certain Smile was a vehicle for Darryl F. Zanuck's latest protegee, Christine Carere. Parisian student Carere spats with her boyfriend Bradford Dillman, then impulsively agrees to accompany Dillman's worldly uncle Rossano Brazzi to the Riviera. At first thrilled at the prospect of an affair with the dashing Brazzi, Carere is disillusioned to discover that she is the latest in a long line of "diversions" for the old charmer. After a heart-to-heart with Brazzi's patient wife (Joan Fontaine), Christine returns to her boyfriend. The title song for A Certain Smile became a hit for Johnny Mathis, who sings the tune over the film's opening credits. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Puritan Pictures seldom turned out a film that looked most expensive than it really was. The studio's Million to One appears to have been made on a budget of eight dollars and a box lunch, but that doesn't lessen its entertainment value one bit. Herman Brix (later known as Bruce Bennett) stars as Johnny Kent, a hot-shot Olympic athlete who lets success go to his head. After a dizzying cycle of wine, women and song, Johnny is no good to anyone, least of all himself. He wises up in time to qualify for a decathlon competition with his arch-rival Hale (Reed Howes). Oldtimers Monte Blue and Kenneth Harlan play key supporting roles, while the ingenue is a pretty but antiseptic newcomer named Joan Burfield. By the time Million to One made it to New York (nearly three years after it was made), Ms. Burfield was billing herself as Joan Fontaine. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

In this romantic comedy a millionaire must somehow dissuade his daughter from marrying a money-grubbing social-climber. In desperation he offers to back the show of a beautiful starlet--provided she break his daughter's heart. Things don't go exactly as planned, but a lot of fun is had along the way. ~ Sandra Brennan, Rovi

Bob Hope tries to capture the comic magic of his 1946 costume farce Monsieur Beaucaire with the splashy Technicolor romp Casanova's Big Night (filmed in 1952, released in 1954). Set in 18th century Venice, the film casts Hope as Pippo, the humble tailor of notorious ladies' man Casanova (an unbilled Vincent Price). When Casanova skips town without paying his debts, the local tradesman's guild, led by Casanova's butler Lucio (Basil Rathbone), conspire to pass off one of their number as the great lover and arrange a profitable marriage. Selected to impersonate Casanova is the hapless Pippo, who soon afterward is hired by the imperious Duchess of Castelbello (Hope Emerson) to test the fidelity of the duchess' future daughter-in-law Elena (Audrey Dalton). Along the way, Pippo is given lessons in etiquette and swordsmanship by both Lucio and tradeswoman Francesca (Joan Fontaine). Eventually, Pippo finds himself up to his neck in court intrigue, courtesy of the scheming Doge of Venice (Arnold Moss). Further complications include a couple of hilarious swashbuckling scenes, an interlude in a dungeon with addlepated prisoner Emo (Lon Chaney), and the obligatory disguise scene. The Pirandellian ending of Casanova's Big Night was later imitated by such films as The Maltese Bippy (1969) and Wayne's World (1992). Bob Hope is in fine form, the production is sumptuous and the supporting cast superb, but somehow there's a little something missing in Casanova's Big Night. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Loretta Young was originally to have starred in made-for-TV Dark Mansions, but she didn't like the script and passed up the project; her role was quickly filled by another Hollywood veteran, Joan Fontaine. Aaron Spelling and Douglas Cramer, the guys who brought you Love Boat, "go gothic" in this Seattle-based tale of the supernatural. While writing the history of a shipbuilding family, Linda Purl learns a little too much for her own wellbeing. Per the film's title, most of the story takes place in a haunted house-and it's a lulu. Michael York, Philip Drake and Melissa Sue Anderson costar. Dark Mansions was first telecast August 23, 1986. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Director Hugo Fregonese and writer George Oppenheimer do the unthinkable: they manage to transform Giovanni Boccaccio's bawdy -- and downright raunchy -- medieval tales of martial discontent and infidelity into harmless white-bread treacle. Louis Jourdan plays Boccaccio in a framing story set in a villa in the Florentine hills. With a widowed woman and her sex-starved female wards hungrily hunched over listening to his every word, Boccaccio spins three tales of illicit romance involving a trio of medieval husbands and wives. All three tales feature Jourdan as the romantic male lead and Joan Fontaine -- spruced up in a collection of bright costumes -- as the misunderstood and mistreated women of the tales. The first story concerns the bored housewife, of a middle-aged husband, who willingly jumps into the arms of a roustabout. The second tale tells the story of a husband who is highly suspicious of his wife's fidelity and the wife's circumspect way of proving her virtue to her husband. The third story is an ineffectual lark about a wife who fools her indifferent husband into demonstrating his proper marital role. Boccaccio had to wait for Pier Pasolini in order to get the spirit of his Decameron right. ~ Paul Brenner, Rovi

Daphne du Maurier's novel formed the basis for this romantic adventure saga. Lady Dona St. Columb (Joan Fontaine), an English noblewoman, is unhappily married to the weak-willed Harry St. Columb (Ralph Forbes), while Harry's sinister best friend Lord Rockingham (Basil Rathbone) makes no secret of his desire for her. When she discovers the ship of a French pirate, Jean Benoit Aubrey (Arturo DeCordova), docked near her estate, she makes the acquaintance of the dashing buccaneer, and she soon finds herself infatuated with him. Dona impulsively joins Jean as he stages a raid against wealthy landowner Lord Godolphin (Nigel Bruce); when Dona learns that Harry and Rockingham plan to capture the pirate, she stages a dinner party to distract them and then sends word to Jean that he is in danger. Jean soon appears at the St. Columb estate, putting Harry and Rockingham behind bars and urging Dona to run away with him. She declines, choosing not to follow her heart but to instead stay home to raise her children; however, Rockingham overhears this conversation and uses it to blackmail Dona into having his way with her. Frenchman's Creek earned an Academy Award for Sam V. Comer's set decoration and design. ~ Mark Deming, Rovi

Though Rudyard Kipling's poem Gunga Din makes a swell recital piece, it cannot be said to have much of a plot. It's simply a crude cockney soldier's tribute to a native Indian water boy who remains at his job even after being mortally wounded. Hardly the sort of material upon which to build 118 minutes' worth of screen time-at least, it wasn't until RKO producer Pandro S. Berman decided to convert Gunga Din into an A-budgeted feature film. Now it became the tale of three eternally brawling British sergeants stationed in colonial India: Cutter (Cary Grant), McChesney (Victor McLaglen) and Ballantine (Douglas Fairbanks Jr.). Ballantine intends to break up the threesome by marrying lovely Emmy Stebbins (Joan Fontaine), while Cutter and McChesney begin hatching diabolical schemes to keep Ballantine in the army (if this plot element sounds a lot like something from the Ben Hecht and Charles MacArthur play The Front Page, bear in mind that Hecht and McArthur shared writing credit on Gunga Din with Joel Sayre and Fred Guiol; also contributing to the screenplay, uncredited, was William Faulkner). All three sergeants are kept occupied with a native revolt fomented by the Thuggees, a fanatical religious cult headed by a Napoleonic Guru (Eduardo Ciannelli). Unexpectedly coming to the rescue of our three heroes-not to mention every white man, woman and child in the region-is humble water carrier Gunga Din (Sam Jaffe), who aspires to become the regimental trumpeter. Originally slated to be directed by Howard Hawks, Gunga Din was taken out of Hawks' hands when the director proved to be too slow during the filming of Bringing Up Baby. His replacement was George Stevens, who proved to be slower and more exacting than Hawks had ever been! ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Produced by MGM's British facilities, the Technicolor Ivanhoe starred Robert Taylor in the title role. Returning to England from the Third Crusades, Ivanhoe is given a cool but cordial reception by his estranged father Cedric (Finlay Currie), a Saxon who despises the Norman king Richard the Lionhearted. Cedric introduces Ivanhoe's fellow knights De Bois-Guilbert (George Sanders) and Sir Hugh de Bracy (Robert Douglas) to Cedric's lovely ward Rowena (Joan Fontaine), who was in love with Ivanhoe until he cast his lot with Richard. Leaving his father's castle, Ivanhoe rescues Isaac (Felix Aylmer), a wealthy Jew, from a band of anti-Semitic Normans. In gratitude, Isaac's beautiful daughter Rebecca (Elizabeth Taylor) finances Ivanhoe's entry into an upcoming tournament; he'd been denied backing by his father because he'd planned to use the prize money to ransom the captured King Richard. At the tournament, the disguised Ivanhoe vanquishes all comers, dedicating his victory to Rebecca, which causes a gust of bigoted gossip from the crowd. Behind the scenes, Richard's wicked brother Prince John (Guy Rolfe) plots to discredit Ivanhoe so that the ransom can never be paid. Joining John in this conspiracy is De Bois-Guilbert, who covets Rebecca, and Sir Hugh, who wants to make Rowena his own. After several thrilling adventures and villainous double-crosses, Rebecca is kidnapped and tried as a witch, the better to bring Ivanhoe out in the open and dispose of him once and for all. But the deux-ex-machina appearance by King Richard (Norman Wooland) and the assistance of loyal "outlaw" Robin Hood (Harold Warrender) brings the bad guys to heel and clears the path for a happy ending. Lensed on an epic scale, this adaptation of the Sir Walter Scott classic remains one of MGM's most solid swashbucklers. The property was remade for television in 1982, with Anthony Andrews in the title role. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Director Robert Stevenson collaborated with novelist Aldous Huxley and theatrical-producer John Houseman on the screenplay for this 1944 adaptation of Charlotte Bronte's gothic romance Jane Eyre. After several harrowing years in an orphanage, where she was placed by a supercilious relative for exhibiting the forbidden trait of "willfulness," Jane Eyre (Joan Fontaine) secures work as a governess. Her little charge, French-accented Adele (Margaret O'Brien), is pleasant enough. But Jane's employer, the brooding, tormented Edward Rochester (Orson Welles), terrifies the prim young governess. Under Jane's gentle influence, Rochester drops his forbidding veneer, going so far as to propose marriage to Jane. But they are forbidden connubial happiness when it is revealed that Rochester is still married to a gibbering lunatic whom he is forced to keep locked in his attic. Rochester reluctantly sends Jane away, but she returns, only to find that the insane wife has burned down the mansion and rendered Rochester sightless. In the tradition of Victorian romances, this purges Rochester of any previous sins, making him a worthy mate for the loving Jane. The presence of Orson Welles in the cast (he receives top billing), coupled with the dark, Germanic style of the direction and photography, has led some impressionable cineasts to conclude that Welles, and not Stevenson, was the director. To be sure, Welles contributed ideas throughout the filming; also, the script was heavily influenced by the Mercury Theater on the Air radio version of Jane Eyre, on which Welles, John Houseman and musical director Bernard Herrmann all collaborated. But Jane Eyre was made at 20th Century-Fox, a studio disinclined to promote the auteur theory; like most Fox productions, this is a work by committee rather than the product of one man. This in no way detracts from the overall excellence of the film; of all adaptations of Jane Eyre (it had previously been filmed in 1913, 1915 and 1921, and has been remade several times since), this 1943 version is one of the best. Keep an eye out for an uncredited Elizabeth Taylor as the consumptive orphanage friend of young Jane Eyre (played as child by Peggy Ann Gardner). ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Perhaps the finest American film from the famed European director Max Ophüls, the film stars Joan Fontaine as a young woman who falls in love with a concert pianist. Set in Vienna in 1900, the story is told in a complex flashback structure as the pianist, Stefan Brand (Louis Jourdan), comes upon a letter written to him by Lisa Berndl (Fontaine), a girl who has been in love with him for years. Stefan is in the process of fleeing Vienna on the eve of fighting a duel. As he prepares himself for the nocturnal journey, the letter arrives. It begins, "By the time you read this letter, I may be dead." As Stefan sits back in his study to read this letter, it turns out to be a confession of unrequited love from Lisa. The story flashes backs to when Lisa was 14 years old and Stefan was her neighbor. After following Stefan with a girlish obsession, the romance gets much more serious, and they have a brief encounter. Stefan promises to come back to her after a concert tour, but he never does. Meanwhile, Lisa marries another man when she discovers that she is pregnant with Stefan's child. When she runs into Stefan years later, he doesn't remember her and tries to seduce her. After Stefan reads the letter, he wants to rush to her side, but now poor Lisa is dying from typhus. ~ Paul Brenner, Rovi

The "suspense" in the RKO Radio musical comedy Music for Madame lies in whether or not golden-voiced Operatic tenor Nino Martini will be permitted to sing. En route to Hollywood, Tonio (Martini) is hoodwinked into serenading a wedding party while a gang of jewel thieves clean out the place. The crooks head for the hills, but not before threatening to murder Tonio if he ever sings again (his voice, you see, is the only clue the police have to go by). While pondering the future of his career, our hero falls in love with beautiful Jean (Joan Fontaine) and is sorely tempted to express his ardor in song. Music for Madame was Jesse L. Lasky's first RKO production -- and very nearly his last when the picture lost $375,000 for the studio. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi