The Star

It isn't the theme of The Star which lacks luster, for similar stories of a fading actress were presented sharply and adroitly in All About Eve and Sunset Boulevard. Nor is Bette Davis disappointing: she shrieks, she bellows, she rolls her prodigious eyes. But this time the script is as aged as its heroine, and The Star, with a lack of biting satire, can only gum its way through a dim Hollywood adventure.

As Margaret Elliott, a falling movie star, Miss Davis alternates between rational evaluations of her life and the erratic misdeeds of a psychotic. The former are to make Miss Davis appealing, the latter to provide continual opportunity for dramatics. The result is a few good scenes but a confused characterization.

When Miss Davis scornfully berates her predatory relatives or falteringly comforts her daughter, the picture is carried along by her skill. To watch her clerking in a department store or collapsing at a filming is not sympathetic however, only ludicrous. Her problems seem unimportant because Margaret is never abandoned or alone. Vacuous Sterling Hayden is always standing by, ready to accept her debts, her neuroses, and her teen-age daughter. When Margaret finally makes the obvious choice between a healthy suitor and a sickly career, it is not because she has grown or gained insight during the picture. Rather, the film ends because Miss Davis has trotted through the emotional gamut and there is nothing more for her to try.