This weekend marks what would have been the 100th birthdays of two great twentieth-century film actors, James Mason (May 15) and Margaret Sullavan (May 16).  Though beloved by devout film fans, both stars are not as well remembered as they deserve to be, particularly Sullavan, who didn’t make nearly as many films as Mason.  She committed suicide in 1960 at the age of 50; Mason died at 75 in 1984.

After receiving worldwide acclaim as the star of Carol Reed’s British thriller ODD MAN OUT (1947), Mason arrived in Hollywood and promptly became one of the more versatile male stars of the 1950s.  His three greatest performances–and they are indisputably great–are in 5 FINGERS (1952), A STAR IS BORN (1954), and LOLITA (1962).  If you haven’t seen this trio, you must do so immediately.  Mason was one of those actors who was always getting better, always challenging himself (despite the many clinkers that litter his filmography).  For an example of great late-career Mason, check him out in Sidney Lumet’s fine courtroom drama THE VERDICT (1982), in which he plays what first appears to be a stock character, the evil lawyer.  Known as “the Prince of Darkness,” his character is the masterful defense attorney up against underdog Paul Newman, an ambulance-chaser seeking redemption.  Mason goes beneath the stereotype, giving a fascinating and subtle portrayal of smugly controlled arrogance and cold-blooded surety, while still allowing for glimmers of vulnerability visible to us though not to the other characters.  His best moment comes in the courtroom, when he suddenly realizes that he may lose the case.  In a few seconds he is shaken, momentarily unraveling, but then he recovers just as swiftly, again imperceptibly to those around him.  This is superb on-screen thinking, the kind of acting it takes decades to perfect.

Margaret Sullavan is best remembered for appearing opposite James Stewart (a four-time co-star) in the Ernst Lubitsch comic treasure THE SHOP AROUND THE CORNER (1940), but my favorite Sullavan performance is in the William Wyler romantic comedy THE GOOD FAIRY (1935), a radiantly winning film whose magic derives primarily from Sullavan’s abundant charm, comic know-how, and her delicately husky voice.  It is one of the great 1930s comedies, yet it’s still far too underappreciated.  Another one to watch for is Sullavan’s final film, NO SAD SONGS FOR ME (1950), very much an old-style “woman’s picture.”  Without an actress as restrained and intelligent in the lead role, the movie could easily have become maudlin and laughable.  Sullavan plays an upper-middle-class housewife who learns that she has terminal cancer but keeps it secret, even from her husband (Wendell Corey).  (Like any great star, she doesn’t let her diagnosis interfere with her smoking like a chimney.)  She is adored by everyone, including daughter Natalie Wood, and decides to tie up all her loose ends in the months she has left, even setting about securing her replacement for Corey in the form of Viveca Lindfors.  Everyone is so well-behaved, and Sullavan is so brave, with even her illness never appearing to be anything more than just plain tiring.  Within the soapy world in which the plot exists, Sullavan avoids the crushing weight of martyrdom and nobility, turning in a graceful and dignified performance more moving than the material deserves.  Sullavan expired in most of her dramatic pictures, and this film, a genuine multi-hankie affair, stands as a final tribute to her rare and beautiful artistry.