1957 in Film: The Three Faces of Eve

Multiple Personality Disorder is nothing to be scoffed at. Not these days, not way back in 1957, not ever. Mental illness and all the strands of human condition ailments that fall under that heavy umbrella, are more often than not tougher to cope with than to express.

Cinema is one such mode of transportation in tackling such issues. Of course, film is a form of entertainment, escapism, whatever you want to call it, not necessarily an official cure. You can trawl through the history of cinema and attempt to determine the accurate depictions of mental health. With the fluctuating views on these portrayals, not many of those films, no matter how exceptional, are without criticism.

The 1957 drama, The Three Faces of Eve, may seem dated now in the modes of hypnosis in a couple of scenes. But the sensitive handling of multiple personality disorder – and the discovery of it – is both respectful to the true life struggles, and also somehow fitting with the melodrama era of the fifties.

Also in keeping with the lights and darks of the nifty fifties photography, in an opening scene when Eve White (Joanne Woodward) and her husband Ralph (David Wayne) head to the specialist Dr. Luther (Lee J. Cobb), she naturally appears from the shade of the room and her shadow is visible on the far wall. Those silhouettes reappear throughout the picture. Subtle, but meaningful for sure.

Related: 1957 at the Oscars

Eve herself is pretty much in the dark. Not knowing what is happening to her, leaving uncharacteristic and dangerous behaviours in her wake. With no memory or explanation of them. Spending big dollars on fancy outfits, or later she is even pulled from her own young daughter, Bonnie, while attempting to strangle her.

When Eve opens up about hearing her own, but unfamiliar, voices in her head, the psychiatrist soon configures a greater issue than the firstly assumed amnesia. Eve White is a timid, gentle soul, and the evolving mess her life has become is clearly the acts of someone other than herself. And not in malice perhaps.

With the sudden emergence of a far more confident, brash Eve, right before his eyes, the doc takes a few moments to process the complete alteration of character. Even though the exact same woman is sitting in front of him. She is flirtatious, sassy and claims to be Eve Black, as if it were the most obvious thing in the whole world.

So well established is the personality switch, or the coming to terms with spotting a fake, is one of the film’s most charming virtues. Even we know the meek Eve White would not shake her toosh to funky jazz in the presence of a stranger. At least not without five belts of liquor in her system. By the time the third personality appears, Jane, we’re beyond sold and on the journey to fascination.

While the supporting cast provide more than enough gusto to keep The Three Faces of Eve a captivating film, it is the magnificent Joanne Woodward in the central role to whom the lioness share of the credit belongs. A performance so exhibited in a kind of effortless wonder, channeling every inch of anxiety that one might expect from someone in Eve’s position.

Related: 1957 in Film – Until They Sail

We all have mood swings, but to see Woodward alter posture, facial expressions, her voice and emotions in the blink of an eye is a true marvel to behold. The Best Actress Oscar in 1957 was a done deal with this kind of form, excelling in playing three different characters enveloped into one poor woman.

As fun and charismatic as Eve Black is, her very presence is still a reminder of how serious these kind of mental health problems have to be taken. The Three Faces of Eve maps themes of abandonment, suicide, repression into the human heart through all three women. Never is multiple personality a joke or something to pass by. And how much awareness do you suppose there were of such illnesses by 1957? And how do you explain the components of the condition to, say, her husband?

Director and screenwriter, Nunnally Johnson, adapted The Three Faces of Eve from the book by Corbett H. Thigpen and Hervey M. Cleckley – both psychiatrists themselves. Both consulted on the script with Johnson, layering the sensitive material across the screen in such accessible manner. And grooming some thought-provoking, magnetic character dynamics along the way.

Shot with sparse art direction and distinctive use of costume design, The Three Faces of Eve invites us readily into a world of an ordinary woman, struggling to find and embrace the causes of her down-slide. Joanne Woodward is incredible, and a heartbreaker alright.