The Packard Kentucky actress who won the Oscar for Hud in 1963, suffered three massive strokes and a coma in 1965 at the age of thirty-nine, was told she might never walk or speak again, rehabilitated herself through sheer determination, returned to the screen, and received her second Oscar nomination for The Subject Was Roses — a demonstration of will so complete it makes the acting seem like the lesser achievement.
Portrait · Patricia NealBorn Patsy Louise Neal on January 20, 1926, in Packard, Kentucky — the daughter of a coal company bookkeeper and a homemaker, raised in Knoxville Tennessee, educated at Northwestern University and the Actors Studio in New York. She made her Broadway debut in 1945 and her film debut in 1949, establishing herself quickly as one of the most intelligent and technically commanding actresses of the postwar generation.
An affair with Gary Cooper during the filming of The Fountainhead (1949) — Cooper was married; the affair ended; she had an abortion — produced a grief she has written about honestly in her memoir and that inflected the performances of the following decade. King Vidor's The Fountainhead, adapted from Ayn Rand's novel, cast her as the woman who loves Howard Roark; the film is remarkable primarily for what she did with a role the source material had not written with much psychological depth.
Martin Ritt's Hud (1963) — Neal as Alma, the housekeeper at a Texas ranch who is the film's moral anchor and the target of the title character's unwanted attention — gave her the Academy Award at thirty-seven. The performance is the most complete statement of her specific quality: the intelligence that sees everything, the pragmatism that endures it, the moment where the endurance fails and the departure is absolute.
On February 17, 1965, she suffered three massive strokes in succession at the age of thirty-nine — while pregnant with her fifth child — and fell into a coma. Her husband Roald Dahl organised her rehabilitation with a ferocity that medical professionals have credited as the primary reason she recovered. She relearned to walk, to speak, to act. Jack Gold's The Subject Was Roses (1968) — her return to the screen three years after the strokes — earned her second Oscar nomination. The nomination is the industry's acknowledgment of the most extraordinary return in American cinema.
Alma's quality — the woman who has seen enough of the world to be under no illusions about it and who maintains a specific self-respect within the constraints of her employment — is played by Neal with the specific groundedness that Ritt required: the moral centre that is not prim but earned, the pragmatism that is not cynicism. The scene where Hud forces himself on her and she escapes is the film's most concentrated demonstration of her intelligence — she had seen the attempt coming, had positioned herself to resist it, and departs without the sentimentality of a victim.
Nettie's quality — the woman whose marriage has produced everything she did not want and who is trying to reconstruct something from the wreckage — is played by Neal three years after her strokes, with a speech and physical coordination she had relearned from scratch. The performance does not announce the biography; the biography is simply present in the instrument, informing the role's exhaustion with the specific exhaustion of a woman who has survived something and continues.
Helen's quality — the reasonable person in an unreasonable situation, whose reasonableness is not naivety but the application of intelligence to circumstances that exceed ordinary experience — is played by Neal with the specific groundedness that makes science fiction credible. "Klaatu barada nikto" — the phrase she must remember to prevent global catastrophe — is delivered as the act of a person who understands the stakes and has decided to trust, which is harder than any heroism the film's genre would normally require.
Marcia's quality — the woman who understood what she was creating and continued, and who makes the decision that ends the film from a position of full responsibility — is played by Neal with the specific moral seriousness that Kazan's best films require. Her relationship to Griffith's Lonesome Rhodes is the film's central irony: she sees him clearly, creates him deliberately, and destroys him with the same clarity she brought to his construction — a complete arc, played without self-pity or exculpation.
A strong positive mental attitude will create more miracles than any wonder drug.
Patricia Neal's legacy is the return — the instrument rebuilt from components the strokes had disassembled, returned to the screen three years later, nominated for the Oscar a second time at forty-two. The acting is the lesser achievement: the Oscar for Hud is the career's most recognised moment, but the second nomination for The Subject Was Roses is its most extraordinary, because of everything that had to be rebuilt to receive it.
Alma's departure from the Bannon ranch — the woman who has decided what she will and won't endure, walking out in full possession of herself — is the career's defining image. She played Alma a year and a half before the strokes tried to take from her exactly what Alma had insisted on keeping: the sovereignty of a person who knows what she's worth and acts accordingly. She got it back. The second nomination is the proof.