The Thomasville actress who played three women simultaneously in her first major film, won the Oscar at twenty-seven, and then spent fifty years making the most durable creative and personal partnership in Hollywood history with Paul Newman — directing, producing, raising children, and finding roles that the industry frequently failed to provide and she found anyway.
Portrait · Joanne Woodward
Born Joanne Gignilliat Trimmier Woodward on February 27, 1930, in Thomasville, Georgia — the daughter of a publishing company vice-president and a mother who took her to films from infancy. She studied drama at Louisiana State University, enrolled at New York's Neighborhood Playhouse and studied with Sanford Meisner, and made her Broadway debut in 1955. She met Paul Newman in 1953 when they were both understudies in the Broadway production of Picnic; he was married; they began an affair; he divorced and they married in 1958, the same year she won the Academy Award. They remained married for fifty years until his death in 2008.
Nunnally Johnson's The Three Faces of Eve (1957) required her to play a woman with three distinct personalities — the timid housewife Eve White, the reckless Eve Black, and the integrated Jane — each differentiated not by costume or makeup but by posture, vocal register, and the quality of attention the character brings to the same face and body. She was twenty-seven. The Oscar was the first ever awarded for a performance based on a multiple-personality case, and it was awarded to the right person.
Martin Ritt's Rachel, Rachel (1968) — directed by Newman — gave her Rachel Cameron, the thirty-five-year-old schoolteacher in a small Connecticut town whose entire life has been organised around the avoidance of experience, who begins a tentative movement toward it in a single summer. The second Oscar nomination and the most complete statement of the quality that made her distinctive: the psychological precision with which she inhabited a character whose interior life was larger than her exterior circumstances.
She continued to work in film and extensively in television and theatre through the 1970s, 1980s, and 1990s — collaborating repeatedly with Newman in films including The Long Hot Summer, From the Terrace, Paris Blues, WUSA, The Drowning Pool, and Mr. and Mrs. Bridge (1990), for which she received her fourth Oscar nomination. She produced, directed, and served as artistic director of the Westport Country Playhouse in Connecticut. She has largely withdrawn from public life since Newman's death in 2008.
The three Eves are not varieties of the same character but fully realised separate people — Eve White's constricted physicality, Eve Black's physical ease, Jane's integration of both — and the transitions between them require Woodward to perform in real time the psychological process the film is describing. The case on which the film was based involved a real woman whose actual name was kept secret until 1977 when she identified herself as Chris Costner Sizemore; she later said Woodward's performance was accurate in ways that had seemed impossible without having known her personally.
Rachel's immobility — the life organised around not-happening, the fear that has made the avoidance of experience into a system — is played by Woodward as a fully inhabited psychological reality rather than a condition to be overcome. The film's compassion is that it doesn't treat Rachel's situation as a problem requiring solution but as a life requiring understanding. Newman said directing Woodward was the easiest and most frightening professional experience of his life — easy because she brought everything required; frightening because he could see exactly how complete it was.
India Bridge's tragedy is the tragedy of a sensibility for which no vocabulary has been provided — a woman who feels everything and has been formed by a world that requires her to show nothing, whose love for her husband is real and her frustration with his limitations equally real, and who has no way of expressing either that the era would sanction. Woodward and Newman made the film together at sixty and sixty-five respectively, and it is the most complete expression of what fifty years of shared work had produced between them.
Clara's intelligence — the woman who sees through every performance the men around her are giving, who has no illusions about her father or the drifter, who chooses the drifter anyway because she has correctly identified the quality beneath the performance — is played by Woodward with the precision she brought to every role: the character's understanding always slightly ahead of the audience's, which creates the specific pleasure of watching a genuinely intelligent performance. The film was made while Newman was still legally married to his first wife; the off-screen situation informed and complicated everything on it.
Sexiness wears thin after a while and beauty fades, but to be married to a man who makes you laugh every day — ah, now that's a real treat.
Joanne Woodward's legacy is the psychological precision — the capacity to inhabit an interior state so completely that the character's feelings are present before they are expressed — that produced Eve White, Eve Black, and Jane simultaneously in her first major film, and Rachel Cameron, India Bridge, and a dozen others across the following four decades. Four Oscar nominations across thirty-three years confirm a range that the scarcity of great roles for women of her generation consistently underexposed.
The fifty-year marriage and the Westport Playhouse are the legacy's other dimensions: the conviction that the work of sustaining partnerships and institutions matters as much as the work of inhabiting roles. Newman said he had simply never seen anyone better. The marriage lasted fifty years. Both assessments were correct and neither was sufficient.