During the winter of 1987, I was sent a script by the writer/producer/director Larry Cohen, titled The Wicked Stepmother. There was something very familiar about this script that made me feel I had read it before. My agent told me I had, and that I had turned it down. How I wish I had turned it down the second time! I had a meeting with Mr. Cohen, who seemed to be a very pleasant gentleman. Again, how wrong I was. Special effects were very popular in films at the time, and The Wicked Stepmother was full of them. Partly for this reason and partly because Mr. Cohen suggested that Kathryn be the associate producer on the film, I accepted the part. I was thrilled for Kathryn. Certainly by now she was very knowledgeable about the industry and capable of doing the job.
We started the film on my eightieth birthday. I felt the timing was one of Mr. Cohen’s friendlier gestures. But as to Kathryn’s being made an associate producer, it was a complete farce. Mr. Cohen would not listen to any of her ideas. Kathryn and I both fought to make this a good, quality picture. But it was not to be.
Mr. Cohen’s direction of me in the role of Miranda was even more of a farce. I was not allowed to express any opinion about my performance. I believe this was the first time in my career that a director refused to listen to anything I suggested. I had met my waterloo. Every step we took in a scene was planned for where he wanted the camera to go.
After four days of shooting, I had to go to my dentist so Kathryn and I went to New York, supposedly just for the weekend. Before we left we saw all the film that had been shot that first week, both with and without me. Kathryn and I were in a state of shock. The film without me was full of tasteless, vulgar moments that had nothing to do with the original script at all. The photography was appalling. At my age, it could have been very damaging to any future offers for a film if these scenes were shown. The more I thought about it, the more I realized there was no way I could return to finish the film without causing serious damage to my career. As each day went by, the dread of finishing the film became worse and worse, until I finally realized I had to have the courage to walk. And I did.
After many dental appointments and some dental surgery, my dentist informed me that he had done all he could, so Kath and I returned to California. The producer was informed that I was not finishing the picture, nor was Kathryn. We later heard that Mr. Cohen was going to finish the film without me.
Over a year later, Kath and I saw the finished product. If ever I had any doubt about my decision to walk from the film it was put to rest. I felt my decision was justified, and I was glad that Kathryn, as always, had been a terrific backup, telling me to stick to my guns. I always felt I owed my audience honesty, and I didn’t want to make a film unless I believed in it.
Prior to leaving The Wicked Stepmother I had been invited to receive yet another award, this time from the Italians. The Campoine d’Italia Merit of Achievement Award was presented to seven other recipients: Gene Kelly, Robert Mitchum, Joseph Cotten, Ali MacGraw, June Allyson, Samantha Eggar, and Glenn Ford. Now with The Wicked Stepmother out of the way Kathryn and I were free to go. We all stayed at the beautiful Villa d’Este Hotel at Lake Como, where we laughed with relief that we were not on the set.
In 1987, I received yet another award, which was one of the most exciting events in these years. The Kennedy Center Award is given each year to artists in many different fields. I had wanted for so long to win this prestigious award, and finally I had. Each year when the Kennedy Center Committee in Washington sent out a brochure asking for suggestions as to who should receive the award for that year, I would write in large letters ME! It often crossed my mind that perhaps I had never been chosen because I was a Democrat and the White House was Republican.
Ronald Reagan being the president the year I won made it a double joy, because we had both been contract players at Warner Bros. It was interesting to see him in the capacity of president. He was a most charming host and most flattering in his remarks about all of us. In the East Room of the White House, prior to the main ceremony in the theatre, President Reagan said in his speech, “Bette Davis, if I’d gotten roles as good as yours and been able to do them as good as you, I might never have left Hollywood.”
Kathryn, sitting in the President’s anteroom adjacent to his box, was most impressed and proud of me when he told her the story of our working together on the film Dark Victory. He said that my constant fighting for the best of everything in the films I made inspired him to fight for some of the best decisions he had made.
I was thrilled to hear Angela Lansbury’s speech about me and my career. Her brilliant delivery was inspiring to watch and listen to. Walter Cronkite, Hume Cronyn, Jessica Tandy and Jimmy Stewart also honored me by appearing on stage. I was overcome by the praise from one and all.
The other winners included another Davis—Sammy by name—as well as Perry Como, Alwin Nikolais, and Nathan Milstein. I always like being the only woman surrounded by a group of men and in this case, such talented men.
A dinner for the honorees was given by the Secretary of State and Mrs. George Shultz. Dining in the elegant State Department room was like dining in a king’s palace.
Standing in the receiving line along with the Secretary of State and Mrs. Shultz was Senator Edward Kennedy. I was thrilled to see him once again, and even more thrilled when he gave a speech that evening at the dinner, especially since it was, I am told, the first time in seven years that he had spoken from a podium. In his speech he talked about the founding of the Kennedy Center and thanked me for my loyalty and friendship to the Kennedys throughout the years.
I was also honored by a most incredible speech by David Hartman, a man I so enormously had admired for so many years. It was wonderful to see so many talented people from so many different professions all in one room. The Kennedy Center Award now holds a very prominent place in my home.
The Film Society of Lincoln Center also gives a most coveted and prestigious award each year to one person from the arts, featuring a tribute evening in the recipient’s honor at Lincoln Center in New York City. Year after year I was disappointed not to be chosen, but finally in 1988 I was.
Kathryn had moved back from Paris and was very instrumental in planning the publicity for my evening at Lincoln Center. There was not a day that went by in the week preceding the award ceremony that I did not do some major newspaper interview or talk show.
It is hard to describe the enormity of the fantastic event that took place in my honor. There was not an empty seat in the 2,700-seat Avery Fisher Hall. I was told this was the only time they had a sold-out house for The Film Society’s awards ceremony. The film footage shown covered my sixty-year career in films, starting with scenes from my first film, Bad Sister, and extending to my most recent, The Whales of August. It truly was a work of art in both the editing and the choice of films.
Jimmy Stewart, Ann-Margret, Geraldine Fitzgerald, and Joseph Mankiewicz all made speeches about me. What they said and the sincerity with which they said it made me burst with pride.
The members of the audience were from many countries, and the love and admiration I felt in the theatre that night was overwhelming. The cheers and applause as I rose to make my acceptance speech were overpowering. I felt very chic in my Patrick Kelly evening dress, designed especially for this occasion. I had been given a beautiful set of pearl earrings and a bracelet for my birthday, and I wore them along with my black mink hoop headdress—a most attractive finishing touch to Patrick’s dress.
All those I loved the most were at Lincoln Center that night to help me celebrate. Kathryn, Harold Schiff, my escort, my longtime friend Robert Osborne, and my son, Michael, and his wife, Chou. The festivities ended with a charming buffet dinner at Tavern on the Green.