Barbara O'Neil Movies

Audrey Hepburn stars in The Nun's Story as Sister Luke, postulant of a Belgian order of nuns. Though frequently disillusioned in her efforts to spread good will -- at one point she is nearly killed by a mental patient (Colleen Dewhurst) -- Sister Luke perseveres. Sent as a nurse to the Belgian Congo, an assignment she'd been hoping for, Sister Luke is disappointed to learn that she will not be ministering to the natives but to European patients. Through the example of no-nonsense chief surgeon Peter Finch, the nun sheds her idealism and becomes a diligent worker -- so much so that she contracts tuberculosis. Upon the outbreak of World War II, Sister Luke tries to honor the edicts of her order and not take sides, but this becomes impossible when her father (Dean Jagger) is killed by the Nazis. Realizing that she cannot remain true to her vows, Sister Luke leaves the order and returns to "civilian" life. The Nun's Story ends with a long, silent sequence in which Sister Luke divests herself of her religious robes, dons street garb, and walks out to an uncertain future. There is no background music: director Fred Zinnemann decided that "triumphant" music would indicate that Sister Luke's decision was the right one, while "tragic" music would suggest that she is doing wrong. Rather than make an editorial comment, the director decided against music, allowing the audience members to fill in the blanks themselves. The Nun's Story is based on the book by Kathryn Hulme, whose depiction of convent life was a lot harsher and more judgmental than anything seen in the film. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

Jean Simmons' fascinating interpretation of an uncharacteristic role is the main drawing card of Otto Preminger's Angel Face. The daughter of Charles Treymayne (Herbert Marshall), who remarried a wealthy woman (Barbara O'Neil), Diane Treymayne's (Simmons) angelic countenance masks an unbridled psychotic who'll let nothing stand in the way of her happiness. Diane arranges for Catherine's death, making it look like an auto accident. Coveting family chauffeur Frank Jessup (Robert Mitchum), Diane steals Frank away from his sweetheart Mary (Mona Freeman) and forces him to become her spiritual accomplice in her stepmother's murder. And when Diane finally realizes that she'll never, ever, be able to hold Frank, she... well, enough said. If Angel Face doesn't look like a typical early-1950s RKO Radio film, it may be because its director was borrowed from 20th Century-Fox, and its cinematographer (Harry Stradling) was a loan-out from Sam Goldwyn. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Even star Joan Bennett and director Fritz Lang regarded The Secret Beyond the Door as the weakest of their collaborative efforts. Bennett plays spoiled socialite Celia, who falls recklessly in love with the handsome but emotionally complex Mark Lamphere (Michael Redgrave, in his first American film). After their wedding, Celia becomes uncomfortably aware that Mark's mild distrust of women is actually a deep-set, and potentially dangerous, hatred. Even when facing the possibility that she'll be murdered in her sleep, Celia remains loyal to her unbalanced husband. The slowly mounting tension is enhanced by the mood-drenched cinematography of Stanley Cortez and the feverish musical score by Miklos Rozsa. But when it's all over, The Secret Beyond the Door fails to linger in the memory in the manner of such earlier Lang-Bennett efforts as The Woman in the Window and Scarlet Street. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

In this melodrama, a loyal research psychologist escapes from Budapest after the nature of his work is discovered. He resettles in Scotland and soon resumes his work. His benefactors provide him a female assistant, and at first the stubborn scientist is not pleased. Eventually the two fall in love. Not long after the research is finished, they marry and for a time the two are happy. But then a terrible fire erupts and the assistant/wife dies trying to protect the researcher's valuable notes. The distraught doctor dedicates the rest of his work to her memory and then heads to China to work as a medical missionary. ~ Sandra Brennan, Rovi

Gone With the Wind boils down to a story about a spoiled Southern girl's hopeless love for a married man. Producer David O. Selznick managed to expand this concept, and Margaret Mitchell's best-selling novel, into nearly four hours' worth of screen time, on a then-astronomical 3.7-million-dollar budget, creating what would become one of the most beloved movies of all time. Gone With the Wind opens in April of 1861, at the palatial Southern estate of Tara, where Scarlett O'Hara (Vivien Leigh) hears that her casual beau Ashley Wilkes (Leslie Howard) plans to marry "mealy mouthed" Melanie Hamilton (Olivia de Havilland). Despite warnings from her father (Thomas Mitchell) and her faithful servant Mammy (Hattie McDaniel), Scarlett intends to throw herself at Ashley at an upcoming barbecue at Twelve Oaks. Alone with Ashley, she goes into a fit of histrionics, all of which is witnessed by roguish Rhett Butler (Clark Gable), the black sheep of a wealthy Charleston family, who is instantly fascinated by the feisty, thoroughly self-centered Scarlett: "We're bad lots, both of us." The movie's famous action continues from the burning of Atlanta (actually the destruction of a huge wall left over from King Kong) through the now-classic closing line, "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn." Holding its own against stiff competition (many consider 1939 to be the greatest year of the classical Hollywood studios), Gone With the Wind won ten Academy Awards, including Best Picture, Best Director, Best Screenplay, Best Actress (Vivien Leigh), and Best Supporting Actress (Hattie McDaniel, the first African-American to win an Oscar). The film grossed nearly 192 million dollars, assuring that, just as he predicted, Selznick's epitaph would be "The Man Who Made Gone With the Wind." ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

In this patriotic British adventure, two courageous brothers try to keep war from erupting in Africa and stop a megalomaniacal arms baron from ruling the world. ~ Sandra Brennan, Rovi

Directed by Richard Thorpe, this costume drama stars Luise Rainer as 16-year-old southern belle Gilberta, who, upon her return to Louisiana after a brief stay in France, discovers her sister Louise Barbara O'Neil) has recently gotten engaged. Gilberta (Rainer) quickly finds herself attracted to her sister's fiance George (Melvyn Douglas), and eventually steals him for herself. Though they marry and have a son together, Gilberta is unable to to cope with the stress and responsibility involved in running a plantation and raising a child at the same time. At Gilberta's request, Louise (O'Neill) agrees to take over the duties of the plantation. Meanwhile, Gilberta begins an affair with a former suitor of hers, Andre Vallane (Robert Young), and agrees to go to New York with him. Upon their return, George (ouglas and Andre (oung) have a duel, which proves fatal for Andre. Shortly after, Gilberta catches a fatal disease. Though much strife had been created due to her sordid affairs, Gilberta comes to terms with her behavior and makes peace with her family shortly before she died. ~ Tracie Cooper, Rovi

I Am the Law is arguably the best of the late-1930s films inspired by the racket-busting career of New York district attorney Thomas E. Dewey. Edward G. Robinson switches to the right side of the law as the Dewey counterpart, here named John Lindsay (!) A feisty, no-nonsense law professor, Lindsay is approached by a group of concerned citizens to act as special prosecutor to rid up their (unnamed) state of big-time lawbreakers. He wastes no time taking charge, storming into the prosecutor's office and firing anyone whom he suspects of being "on the take." With the help of his dedicated law students, who work alongside him for free, Lindsay purges the local government of such corrupt influences as Eugene Ferguson (Otto Kruger), the outwardly respectable "brains" behind the rackets. Among the minor pleasures in I Am the Law is watching Robinson dancing the Big Apple with gun moll Wendy Barrie in an early scene, and his firing of suspicious-looking Charles Halton with a brusque "Don't like your face! Never have! You've got shifty eyes and a weak chin!" (which, indeed, were Halton's screen trademarks). Barbara O'Neil, who the following year played Scarlet O'Hara's mother in Gone with the Wind, is quietly effective as Robinson's supportive wife. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi